#tasm fic
Text
SPIDER-BOY
Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader
Summary - Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man.
friendly reminder - the best way to support writers on Tumblr is to reblog their work or comment <3:)
// masterlist // send me your thoughts //
Two months.
That was how long it had been since Peter first indulged in his ridiculous idea of talking to you under the guise of Spider-Man. Of course he hadn’t meant for it to last this long, promising himself that it was just to help him build his confidence–maybe even learn a bit about what kind of things you liked–so that he could actually ask you out as himself. Unfortunately, though, things hadn’t gone quite as he had planned.
Spider-Man offered him a type of courage that he just wasn’t able to muster as Peter Parker. Under the cover of his mask he was able to come across as easy-going and flirtatious, never failing to leave your cheeks a deep crimson from the playful banter. Yet, when he did manage to speak to you as plain ole’ Peter, all of that was suddenly lost on him, leaving him a complete and total bumbling mess. As far as he was concerned, Peter Parker had no chance to be what any girl wanted, especially you. But Spider-Man was a different story.
And so he continued to exploit Spider-Man, using the masked hero as a means to continue getting closer to you, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his secret identity forever. To be fair, he would rationalize to himself, Spider-Man had taken a lot from him, it was only fair that he got something in return.
Plus, the interactions had been mostly innocent. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself, opting to ignore the many times that coy attitudes began to border on actual sexual attraction. He tried not to think about those times (though there had been many nights where he purposely let those interactions slip into his mind, reliving them from the privacy of his bedroom), instead just promising himself that he wouldn’t let his romantic escapades as Spidey go too far.
“So,” your voice filled his ears, his heart skipping a few beats at the sound, “at what point should I start to wonder if you’re stalking me?”
Peter chuckled at the question, his fingers gripping the railing of the balcony to your apartment, effortlessly hanging from it. “Do you feel like I’m stalking you?”
“Hm,” you placed a finger against your chin, pretending to be deep in thought, evoking even more laughter from the boy. “Maybe a bit.”
“Oh yeah? What did I do to give that impression?”
“Well, to be fair, you’re currently dangling a couple hundred feet in the air off the side of my balcony.” You told him matter-of-factly, gesturing to where he was still hanging from the railing.
His brows furrowed beneath his mask, an expression that was barely noticeable due to the fabric covering his face. “And that makes me a stalker? I thought you’d find it romantic, a sort of Romeo-and-Juliet moment.”
“Romeo threw pebbles at her window, he didn’t scale an entire apartment building dressed in spandex.” You reminded him, “But, actually, it’s more so that I don’t remember ever giving you my address.”
Peter froze for a moment, having not thought about the fact that your previous run-ins with Spider-Man had always been in public spaces–catching you after work or just happening to bump into you on the street while patrolling–never at your home. He only knew where you lived because you had told him, but as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, when the two of you were assigned to a project together last week. He mentally face-palmed at his own ignorance.
“Superheroes keep up with where all the pretty girls live. One of the lesser-known parts of the job.” He quipped, hoping that flattery would keep you from thinking too much into it. You only rolled your eyes at the comment, luckily not pressing any further.
“So what did I do to deserve a surprise Spidey visit this time?” You hummed, leaning back against the cold brick of your apartment building.
Peter hoisted himself over the edge of the balcony so that he was standing across from you, his arms finally beginning to ache from holding up his bodyweight for so long. “What, I’ve gotta have a reason to stop by and see my favorite civilian?”
“Civilian?” You snorted. “And here I was thinking you and I were friends.”
He dramatically placed his hands on either side of his face, feigning shock at your words, “Oh God no! You and me? Friends?” he let his hands fall to his waist, an exaggerated breath leaving his mouth, “No, not at all. I think that would be a conflict of interest.”
You cocked a brow at him, “How so?”
“I mean–I just think it would really interfere with our whole superhero slash damsel-in-distress routine, ya know?”
“Damsel-in-distress?” You gasped incredulously at the claim, though the corners of your mouth were still quirked up in a smile.
Peter nodded, “Uh, yeah. That’s literally our whole thing, isn’t it? You constantly running into trouble, me swinging in and saving your life.”
“You haven’t had to save my life once Spider-Boy.” Peter scoffed at the name, acting like he was insulted.
“Oh c’mon!” Peter dragged the word out, practically whining as he took a fraction of a step towards you, the movement enough to leave only a few inches between the both of you due to how small the balcony was. “You are literally always getting yourself into danger.”
“Okay,” You crossed your arms over your chest, craning your neck so that you could actually look up at him, the masked vigilante having several inches on you, “give me an example then.”
Peter rolled his eyes, a gesture only evident by the dramatic way his head moved along with them. He reached a gloved hand to your face, letting his fingertip gently brush against the semi-healed cut along your forehead. “You literally got this by tripping over your own shoes and banging your head against the counter at a coffee shop. Not to mention the fact that you spilled your entire coffee on yourself in the process.” He trailed away from the cut, moving to brush a stray hair behind your ear. He didn’t take his hand away, though, letting it rest against the side of your face. “You are always in danger because you are the danger.”
Your eyes widened for a moment, so quick that he didn’t even notice the reaction. He was right, you had done that, an unfortunate consequence of being the clumsiest person alive. But, still, his words left you confused; remaining silent for just a moment as you turned them over in your head. When you finally opened your mouth to speak you were cut off by the sound of distant sirens, a groan immediately coming from him, knowing that your interaction would now be cut short.
His thumb brushed against your cheek, acting as an unnecessary silent apology.
“Sounds like somebody needs Spider-Man.” You told him as he let his hand fall from your skin, forcing himself to the railing. If he didn’t go now, he wouldn’t leave at all. “You better hurry, it could be one of those pretty girls you keep tabs on.” You shot a teasing grin in his direction, referencing his earlier comment.
“Ugh, they just never give me a day off.” He joked, swinging his feet over the balcony railing before gripping onto it and allowing himself to once again hang from it. “Try not to trip into anything dangerous until I’m back.”
He turned his head and reached one hand out, likely to shoot a web at the building across from yours, but hesitated when he heard you speak again, a sudden panic filling his body at your words, “Be safe, Parker.”
The sirens continued blaring, growing closer with each second, but all he could hear was the sound of his own heart wildly thumping against his chest. “What?” He sounded completely dumbfounded, his head slowly turning back to look at you, only to find you standing with your own finger pointing to the cut he had traced on your forehead, a wide grin on your face.
“Spider-Man wasn’t there the day that I fell.” You shot a knowing glance in his direction, one that had his cheeks heating up. He had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask, aware that his face was likely beet red. “I asked Peter to meet me there so I could borrow his biology notes.”
Peter didn’t speak, too stunned by his own stupidity for slipping up and not thinking about how he was there that day as himself, not Spider-Man. This time you were the one to take a step forward and close the gap between you, having to lean down just a bit in order to be face-to-face as he dangled from the railing.
“You’re a lot more confident in the suit.” You mused, your hands finding the base of his mask, lightly tugging the material up to reveal his face. Even though it was dark out you could still see that he was blushing. “But I prefer you without it.”
His jaw fell slack, words getting caught in his throat as a million thoughts raced through his mind, though one thought in particular was a lot louder than the rest: I prefer you without it.
“You should definitely go.” The sirens were now close enough that you could actually see the faint red-and-blue lights a few streets over. He looked in the direction of them but still didn’t make a single move to leave. You seemed to recognize his hesitation, tugging the mask back down over his face. “If you ever remember how to talk then you can come back when you’re done. But ditch the mask.”
Peter nodded at your words, his eyes remaining glued to you as you straightened back up, turning your back to him to go back inside your apartment–leaving him to go off and be a hero. Once you were inside he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he forced himself to get into motion, swinging in the direction of the police lights.
Turns out Peter Parker did have a chance.
#peter parker imagine#peter parker blurb#peter parker headcanons#tasm peter parker imagine#tasm peter x reader#andrew!peter fanfiction#peter parker fluff#andrew!peter fluff#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#spiderman imagine#spiderman fanfiction#tasm fanfiction#tasm fic#spiderman fic#mcu imagine#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfiction
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Can I request just Peter and shy!reader cuddling and stuff after a long day (after r having a long day or after peters spidey stuff whichever) ❤️
thank you for your request! tasm!peter parker x fem!reader, 1k
It feels like Peter's been gone for a long, long time when he finally comes home. Hair whipped every which way from swinging, his cheeks kissed by cold, nose bitten and pink, he drops his keys by the door and sweeps you up into his impossibly strong arms.
You'd usually laugh at the sudden weightlessness, but his touch summons a lump in your throat, the thrumming feeling of missing him alive and in your hands. You work them around his shoulders.
"You had a bad day?" he asks. You don't know how he knows, but he does.
"I just needed to see you," you say, embarrassed by the strength of your feelings.
Peter walks you backwards and you do laugh, then, the rigidness of your emotion warmed into softness by his arms around you and his easy smile. Peter dunks you down onto your L-shaped couch so you're flat on your back with your legs propped up and isn't shy about laying on top of you, the firm muscle of his thigh slotting between your softer ones, his hands moving to frame your face.
He holds your cheeks for a second, decides he actually can't deal with the weight of his bag still on his shoulders or the jacket that haphazardly hides his suit and shrugs both off, and then holds your face again.
"You're warm," he says.
"You're cold," you say, turning your cheek into his hand, your head smushed up against the couch cushions.
You close your eyes as he gets comfortable, content to spend long, slow minutes in the sanctuary of his arms, knowing he'll let you stay here however long you need to. You think you could commit to the couch for the remainder of your life and Peter would spend the rest of his days bringing you trinkets and offering to give you sponge baths. It's a preposterous thought based on an absolute truth; Peter would do anything for you. You'd do anything for him.
You curl your arms around the broad, muscled stretch of his back, fingertips tripping over the wrinkles in his shirt, nose sniffing indulgently at his hair.
"I needed to see you, too," he says into your neck. He speaks quietly, but not for the sake of any concerns. There's no need for privacy, and no shame in the admission. "Day's perfect now."
It's such a him thing to say.
After another handful of quiet minutes, Peter works it around so he's the one being weighed down, squeezing between you and the couch armrest and easing you effortlessly onto his chest. You throw a leg over his thigh, curl an arm around his waist. He's not as cold anymore, but you rub his arm in a steadying back and forth until you've made your way to his fingers. They're still pretty cold —you pull his hand to your mouth and blow warm air at his fingertips until they're pink rather than blue.
Peter noses your hairline affectionately. "You're quiet today. More than usual," he says. "Should I be concerned?"
"No," you murmur, rubbing his knuckles against your forehead for no good reason. It feels nice. After less than half a second, he does it of his own accord.
Peter pushes your head back gently and starts to kiss you. Your forehead from end to end, the bridge of your nose, the tip. You shiver happily at the feeling and tilt your chin up for a proper kiss, though that happiness quickly melds to embarrassment when he laughs against your lips. I know what you want, his laugh says.
And even though he's right, even though it's obvious, it's raw to be caught wanting. He knows how much you want him in any and all capacity, and that's scary.
You'd pull away if you thought Peter didn't know how you felt; you trust him completely. He can kiss you sick, for all you care.
Peter doesn't kiss you for long, resting his forehead against your jaw, hand at the back of your neck to hold you where he wants you.
"Put your head back," he murmurs, faux-thoughtful, "I wanna give you a better kiss."
"You want to give me a bruise," you murmur back.
He dips in to kiss your neck softly. "Not true," he says, his bottom lip tickling you as he exhales.
You lean back and raise your shoulder to push him away. You trust him, you love him, but if he gives you a hickey tonight you won't be able to look at him without a hot flush. You're too tired for anything amorous.
Peter doesn't hold it against you. If anything, he does the opposite, rubbing your aching shoulders with a big, flat palm, like he's saying sorry. It's unnecessary.
"I love you," you say.
"I know," he says, giving you a short pat between shoulder blades. "Not as much as I love you, though, don't get it twisted."
"I'm not getting anything twisted."
"No?" Peter pulls you up his chest and turns his head so you can look at each other comfortably, no craned necks up or down. "Feels like you are. You think you love me more, which is scientifically improbable."
"I didn't say that."
"It felt like you said that."
"I didn't say that." You glare at one another. The glares don't last long.
You dive in for another hug, Peter tightening his grip around your waist, forearms up your back and locking you in. "This is nice," you say.
"For you. My arm is dead."
You giggle and shift further on top of him to alleviate the pressure on his arm. He groans like you're his very worst ailment, but when he kisses your head it's so tender you'd bet money that it left a mark, a physical actualisation of his affection.
"Better?" he asks.
You know what he's asking without further explanation. Do you feel better now?
You nod against his neck, thinking you might just fall asleep in his arms.
#peter parker#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter parker fluff#tasm!peter parker fanfiction#tasm!peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter fanfiction#tasm!peter x you#tasm fic#tasm!peter x reader#the amazing spider man 2#the amazing spider man#tasm peter parker#tasm#tasm peter parker x reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine#tasm!peter parker imagine
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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
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!
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.”
#aster writes spiderman#petermath#tasm!peter x y/n#tasm!peter x you#+ tasm!spiderman#tasm peter parker#tasm!peter x reader#tasm fic#tasm peter#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!peter fanfiction#tasm!spiderman x you#tasm!spiderman x reader#spiderman x reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker fic#peter parker x you#peter parker x fem#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter fluff#tasm!peter
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Hey!! Can I have Peter and his gf who's not rlly smart but catches a mistake Peter made in his hw and teases him but he doesn't mind? Thanks xx!
smarty pants | peter parker.
bf!peter parker x reader
this has been sitting in my inbox for a WHILEE i am sorry!
not proofread, no warnings
-
you had just bombed your math quiz and you could not feel any worse. math just wasn’t your thing, ela or history? sure, but math and you were never getting along. and that was a fact.
the only person who might’ve been able to raise your spirits was your one and only genius vigilante boyfriend, peter. which led to you vigorously knocking on his apartment door like you did many times, expecting to be greeted by a familiar peter, instead being met with his aunt may.
“hey, there sweet pea! peter won’t be home for a while, but would you like to come in and wait in his room for him?” you nodded while thanking her, being in his room would help remind you of him.
she walked you to his room, though being here so many times you know the place like the back of your hand.
when you walked into his room you were welcomed with messy algebra homework as well as half-done history homework scattered all over his desk.
you hopped down onto his undone bed and patiently waited for peter to come back to tell him all about how math was the worst subject known to man.
-
after what felt like forever you finally heard the bedroom door creek open, with the curly head following.
“hey, sunshine? how are you?” he said while placing a kiss on top of your forehead. you pouted before responding, and that’s when peter knew he was in for a doozy.
“terrible! peter, i failed my math quiz!” flapping your arms up and down for emphasis. peter patted your shoulder, his way of saying ‘i’m sorry’.
“c'mon, it can’t be that bad” peter was sorely mistaken. it was that bad.
“i got a 25%.” he made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth, as though it physically hurt him to hear that grade.
“i mean, whose bright idea was it to come up with trigonometric functions? when will i ever use that in my entire life?” you began to rant. the grade was irritating you considering you’ve never gotten lower than a c in math.
“okay, come show me what you need trouble with.” peter said while pulling you up from his bed and leading you to his untidy desk.
you told him what was confusing you and he thoroughly explained it, but you couldn't seem to focus with that history homework on his desk.
“it's italy.”
“what..?”
“which country did the renaissance begin in? you said germany but it's italy.” he quickly scanned over the question again, skimming over the small paragraph before it.
“you got me, good job smarty pants!” he wasn’t sour or bitter about it all. if anything, he was happy, he knew how much it would mean to you if you corrected the smartest person you knew.
“i am a bit of smarty pants aren’t i?” and with that both you and peter started to explode in a fit of giggles.
-
#LMFAO i remember when i got a 25 on my test#peter parker aka THE smarty pants#sam writes#peter parker#peter parker x reader#tasm fic#tasm!peter x reader#bf!peter#fluff#mcu#mcu x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker fic#spiderman x reader#spiderman x y/n#spiderman homecoming
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private #5 bent over a table while somethings baking in the oven. is it too much to ask for tasm peter parker bending reader over?
[location based smut prompts]
The To-Do List
[tasm peter x fem!reader]
(reader is described as having a ponytail that is long enough for Peter to wrap around his hand and use as leverage)
His birthday cake was nestled happily inside the heated oven.
She got up early to make it for his special day. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face while she had prepped and she was still in her pajamas from this morning. She had planned to have the cake in the oven, get her shower done, and place out his presents on the table all before he woke up.
Peter, of course, had other ideas.
He leaned against the kitchen doorway with a lopsided grin as he sleepily took in the sight of her. She paused when she saw him there, silent as ever, and crossed her arms.
“You are not supposed to be awake for another hour,” she chastised.
Thirty-five looked good on him. Every year he seemed to get more and more handsome.
His eye wrinkles grew as his smile widened. A strand of dark hair fell down his forehead and he absentmindedly brushed it away. He was shirtless with nothing but a pair of dark boxers to keep him decent.
She admired how defined his chest was. A hinting of his six pack was peeking out from just under the surface of his lean body.
“I smelled cake.” His voice was thick and scratchy with lingering sleep. Peter’s morning voice was one the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard.
She smiled as she rolled her eyes. It had hardly been in the oven for more than five minutes and it was already enough to get him out of bed.
“The kitchen is a mess. I was going to clean it all up and have your presents out and I was going to be all dressed up and looking extra cute. You ruined it all with your stupid nose.”
Peter laughed as he strode across the room to slip his arms around her waist. She looked up to admire him and wiped at a staining of toothpaste still clinging to the side of his lips. She caught it with her thumb and shoved it back into his mouth while he licked it off.
“You already look extra cute,” he mumbled around her thumb.
“I’m literally wearing your old, hole filled shirt and bright pink fluffy pants. This is not how I wanted you to see me this morning. It’s your birthday. I wanted it to be special.” She tugged her thumb back with a huff.
Peter stepped back to appreciate her outfit in the morning light. She had already been in bed by the time he crawled through their window last night.
“I like it,” he stated. “It’s hipster.”
She let out a laugh in response, “I don’t think you know what hipster means, babe.”
Peter shrugged, “It means you dress like a bum, right?”
“Oh my god, why don’t you go back to bed and try this again in an hour when everything is all set up, okay?”
“No,” he whined. He latched himself onto her back, snaking his arms tightly around her stomach to press her against him. “I’m up. It’s my birthday. Say happy birthday to me and tell me you love me.”
She grinned, snuggling back against his bare chest, “Happy birthday and I love you.”
“That sounded insincere but I will take it.” His hand slipped up under her loose shirt to cup a warm hand over her breast, lazily palming it while he nibbled at the edge of her ear. He always liked the feeling of her nipple coming to life and growing harder against his hand. He held onto her chest like one might cling to the safety of a favorite stuffed animal.
She groaned, “Your presents were supposed to be all set out nicely on the table. Instead you’re just greeted with a kitchen disaster of my cake baking. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep for another hour? I know you’re tired from last night. You were out late.”
Peter began to slowly waddle them back and forth towards the kitchen table, refusing to release his grip from around her waist or remove his hand from her breast, “I know of a present I can unwrap right here…”
She gasped under her breath, “Peter. This is no time. I’ve got a list of things to do.”
She felt him laugh quietly against her ear.
“Yeah and I’ve got a list of things to do, too. A whole list. Let’s see what the first thing to do is…” he pretended like he was reading off an imaginary piece of paper as he checked it over. “Ah, yes!”
He slipped his hands out from her shirt and placed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the kitchen table. With a quick swoop, he tugged down both her pants and underwear, leaving them hanging around her ankles. She let out a shocked cry.
“Unwrap presents…check!” He chuckled to himself, giving her bare ass a soft slap. “And what a beautiful present it is. Couldn’t have asked for anything better. Wow, you really know me, baby, I’m super impressed.”
“Peter,” she whined, pushing herself back up. “Not fair. I haven’t showered. I’ve got to get ready. I’ve-”
He cut her off with a kiss. His lips crashed against her and his tongue forced its way into her mouth to stop her from trying to protest further. She could taste the mint from his toothpaste still clinging to his tongue and she moaned as he pressed his hips into hers. He was growing harder by the second.
“Shut up,” he mumbled against her lips with a smile. “My birthday. My rules.”
“Okay,” she said with a dreamy sigh. It wasn’t hard to convince her. Her complaints were more for show than anything else. If Peter wanted her, he had her. “I love you, Pete.”
“If you love me so much then why don’t you take off that shirt so I can see my second present.”
She did as she was told, stripping it from her body, until she was standing naked before him. The bulge in his boxers twitched which made her smile. She loved the fact that she could make him so hard from sight alone.
Peter’s hand reached out to brush a calloused thumb across her hardened nipple, “Beautiful.”
He lifted her up onto the table so she was sitting closer to him and he moved between her legs. They wrapped around him so she could feel the heat of him soaking through his boxers and against her pussy. His eyes traveled down to her chest, taking in the sight, and sighing happily. His head dipped down so he could capture the waiting bud between his wet lips.
She let out a satisfied moan and ran her fingers through the back of his hair while suckled on her. His tongue bathed her breast, teeth nipping at her nipple, and soothing it over with quick kisses and light sucking motions. His mouth was magic. He didn’t even need to touch her pussy for her to already be soaking through his boxers as she ground against him.
“Feel that?” He groaned, bucking his hips. “Feel how hard I am?”
She whimpered.
“All for you,” he whispered, finding her lips once more to kiss her deeply.
All for her.
It was his birthday. She should probably be getting down on his knees for him and sucking him off or tending to him in some way but she was nothing but putty in his hands. Lost in the feeling of seduction he was casting over her.
Peter dragged her down off the table, smirking at the wet spot she had left behind, and spun her around. He folded her back in half over the table, scraping his nails down the length of her spine and over the swell of her ass.
“The next thing on my to-do list,” he breathed, his voice low and deep. “Is you.”
She heard him discarding his boxers and suddenly felt the wet, hot tip of cock slide up her open folds. She was more than ready for him. He never had to do much to have her begging for more. Her hips grinded against the air as if trying to draw him in closer but he only continued to tease her with the tip.
“Someone’s eager,” he commended, giving her ass another slap.
“Peter, please,” she gasped.
He kept up his tantalizing torture. Every time his cock bumped over her aching clit, her hips would jerk backwards, and she’d let out a quiet cry.
“Please what?” He asked with an air of innocence.
She groaned at his teasing, “Please fuck me! I want you to fuck me.”
“Aww,” he cooed. “Does my poor baby need my cock?”
She whined and nodded.
“You got up so early, didn’t you?” His nails dragged along her hips, making her squirm, as she humped frantically in an attempt to get at his cock. “You got up early to make my birthday so special. You baked me a cake. It smells amazing, doesn’t it? Smell it, baby.”
Her eyes widened in frustration, “Peter! Fuck me! Please, stop it.”
He ignored her pleas, getting off of them, as his cock twitched between her thighs, “Did you slip that cake into the oven just for me?”
She was nearly sobbing from her own arousal, ready to attack him if he didn’t shut up and fuck her soon. She arched her back to better entice him, wagging her ass and rubbing it against his hips. She pushed herself up with her arms so he could get a peeking view of her tits swaying in wait for him.
That seemed to do the trick because he had gone silent as he stared.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Happy birthday to me.”
“I want it hard, Peter. Use me,” she whispered in an effort to finally push him over the edge. “I’m yours.”
He lined up his cock to her entrance and eased himself inside. She nearly doubled over against the table at the delicious feeling that flooded through her body.
“Yes, yes, thank you, baby, thank you,” she cried.
“You really love this cock, don’t you?” He breathed. “Do you love this cock more than me?”
“No, baby, never. I could never-”
He pulled out and rammed the full, thick length back into her with a loud slap.
She shrieked, falling forward into a flurry of mumbled moans, “I do, I do, I do. I love it more than you. I love it more than anything.” Tears pricked in her eyes from the overwhelming sensations taking over.
Peter chuckled to himself, “That’s my girl.”
Her ass slapped against his body with each plunging drive of his cock as he took her. Fast and hard, just like she asked. Every thrust felt like it was reverberating through her, waking up all her senses, making her feel more alive than ever before. It was sheer bliss. Anticipation already began to build. He knew exactly how hard to take her. Peter could be rough but he never went past her limits. He knew her inside and out. He knew just where to push her before retreating back to safety. The sounds of her tumbling moans and each inhale of breath was all he needed to direct his path.
He was filling her body, stretching her, taking her, building her up to that beautiful place of divinity. Her nails clawed at the table, scratching at the wood, trying to find some kind of purchase to steady herself with.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Peter!” She cried.
“That’s it, baby,” he panted. “I got you. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and jerked her head upwards. She arched her back to accommodate the move as he held her against him. She could feel his ragged breaths against her cheek and listened to his erotic panting in her ear. The sound was enough to almost send her flying straight into an orgasm.
The hand not keeping a tight hold of her ponytail wrapped around her to grab at her chest. He molded her breast between strong hands.
She loved taking his cock. Loved it so deep. Thrusting. Hard. Stretching her. Forcing her to take him. Peter was thick. Thickest man she had ever been with. He pushed her walls to their max. His beautiful body and the sounds he made when he fucked her where like heaven to her ears.
That familiar, sensual pressure began to grow inside of her with shallow waves lapping at the edges of her mind. Soon they would turn into giant swells. Taking her over until it was all she could feel.
His hand slipped from her ponytail to wrap around her neck. He gave a gentle squeeze. Nothing too forceful but enough to send her flying even faster towards that tsunami of pleasure. She was so close. So ready.
“Harder, Peter,” she sobbed. “Hard. Please. I’m-I’m…close…need it hard. Take me.”
Peter was never to deny a request like that. He shoved her back over the table and tumbled on top of her, humping frantically with long, heavy strokes into her cunt. He could feel her walls tightening. He could feel her body changing.
“Come on, baby,” he urged her. “Cum on my cock. Cum for me. Let me feel you.”
The universe exploded into blinding light.
She didn’t care how loud she was. Didn’t care if the neighbors would hear. In fact, she wanted them to. She wanted them to know exactly how well Peter Parker could fuck his woman.
Her toes curled and her legs kicked up as the sensory overload rocketed through her with golden waves of pure dopamine.
Peter took her straight to the edge and held her there, spasming and sobbing, as he continued to fuck her through the orgasm. Even as the waves slowly receded, they still lingered in tiny aftershocks, due to his relentless pounding. He had gotten her where she needed to be and now it was his turn.
He reangled himself into her, getting a better grip as he held onto her hips, and switched up his rhythm to slow. Peter liked to feel everything. He wanted to drag it out and feel her body wrapped around him. From fast and hard to slow and steady. His change of pace caused a low, drawn out moan to escape from her throat.
“You like that, baby?” He panted. “You like feeling every inch of me?”
All she could do was whimper in response as her sex spasmed again around him. This was a man who knew how to lengthen an orgasm. She was completely helpless to him. Her body was his play thing.
“Let me hear how much you love me, baby,” he whispered down in her ear as his cock buried straight to the hilt inside of her. “Let me hear you.”
She struggled to make any noise besides sobbing whimpers and broken cries.
He moaned in response, “That’s it. Those are those sounds that I love so much. My poor baby, all ravaged on my cock. Can’t even speak.”
He gave a small shudder and she knew he was close. She did her best to work her hips to meet his thrusts, squeezing him with her walls, sucking him in, clenching down.
“That’s good, baby, that’s good.” He moaned, his voice slowly losing itself as he got closer to the edge. “Ooh, fuck, keep that up. ‘M gon’na cum inside ya’kay?”
She loved it when he filled her. She loved feeling him drip down her leg as she carried him around with her. She would bathe in his semen if he wished it. It was his birthday, after all. The birthday boy could come wherever he pleased.
His long, slow strokes worked her up as another, tiny orgasm rippled through her. That seemed to be all he needed to follow.
Peter let out a low groan, his thrusts become more unrestrained with each passing second, and she took him. All of him.
With the sweetest of cries, he emptied himself inside of her. She could feel him swell and pulse until she was impossibly full. That tiny orgasm grew into something much bigger, taking over her body along with him, as she felt him collapse on top of her, both shaking, as he bit at her shoulders with soft, love bites until he finally calmed down.
He stayed like that, laid against her back and squishing her into the table, until he cock began to soften and he sadly slid back out. She tumbled back into his arms as they both fell to the spooning position against the kitchen floor. Naked, wet, and breathing heavily.
Peter’s hand found the comfort of her breast once more.
“Mmm,” he hummed. “Best present I could ask for. Thank you, baby. You’re too good to me.”
She grunted in response, still finding words to fail her. Instead, she rolled over in his arms, hooking her leg through his, and leaving a trail of kisses across his face to show much she adored him.
His eyes closed as he smiled happily at the feeling.
Eventually she would have to get up. Eventually she would have to shower and get dressed and clean the kitchen and set up his presents and frost the cake…but for now…
For now she was happy to just lay here on the floor in his arms.
#andrew garfield#the amazing spiderman#tasm#peter parker#tasm peter parker#tasm peter#tasm x reader#tasm smut#peter parker x reader#peter parker smut#tasm peter x reader#tasm peter smut#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker smut#tasm fic#tasm smut fic#peter parker fic#peter parker smut fic#andrew garfield fic#andrew garfield smut fic#location smut prompts#the to do list#blooming violets fic#blooming violets
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heyy!! ik u already wrote smth similar but could u write peter parker x reader with anxiety and he notices that they like fidget and wrong their hands and stuff when there’s feeling anxious or overwhelmed and he like lets them fidget with his hands (inspired by that one scene from The Bear) and/or comforts her and asks if she’s ok?? sorry that’s rlly specific lol, no pressure & i love ur work!!🫶
welcome to my 300 celebration!
"Hello?" you called out into the seemingly empty apartment, looking for your boyfriend. You slipped off your shoes and slung your bag on the chair closest to you. "Pete, baby, you there?"
There was a pause, a shuffle, and then a, "Hi, sweetheart," as Peter made his way into the living room.
"There you are," you murmured as he gave you a hug. "Missed you today," you said, voice slightly muffled by his sweater.
He smiled, chin propped up on your head, and then he pulled away slightly to give you a short kiss. "I missed you, too. How was your day?"
He pulled you down to the sofa with him, arm wrapped around your shoulders. You leaned into him, and started to fidget with your hands as you thought about how to respond to that question. "It was okay," you decided, after a long pause.
Peter wasn't sure you were telling the truth for many reasons. The first, and most obvious sign, was that he could tell you were anxious. Your hands were a dead giveaway.
He took your hands in his, warmth seeping from his palms to yours as he drew soothing circles on the back of your hands. "How was it actually?" he asked softly, forcing your eyes to meet his.
You sighed, leaning back into the sofa as you began to fidget with his hands instead, playing with his slender fingers. "Tiring," you finally admitted. "I have a lot to do," you murmured.
His face softened, taking one of his hands out of your vice-like hold to cup your cheek. "I know you do," he whispered. "And I'm always here to help. Whenever you need me." He paused, then joked, "Even if that means I have to loan you my hands for a while."
You giggled, and wrapped your arms around him this time. "Thank you."
#peter parker#comfort#fluff#drabble#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#peter parker imagine#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#spider man#tasm peter parker#tasm!peter imagine#tasm peter x reader#tasm fic#tasm#tasm!peter x you#tasm!peter x reader#tasm spiderman#300 celebration#300 followers#follower milestone
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3 is the Magic Number
For @wicked-blathers' Kink or Treat event! Yes I'm several days late, shhh, it's fine..
Summary: you and Peter decide it's time to start trying to expand your family
Warnings: strong breeding kink, soft dom Peter, overstimulation, creampies, daddy kink, choking, did I mention breeding kink? Also Peter having baby fever.
It all started when your cousin brought over her infant at Thanksgiving.
You couldn't help but coo over the baby, with his bright eyes and gummy smile and little fingers. When your cousin asked if you wanted to hold him, you immediately said yes and brought him over to Peter.
"Look at him! Isn't he cute?" You gushed to your husband.
"Yeah, he's quite the charmer already," Peter commented. But his eyes weren't on the baby, they were on you.
"You look like a natural holding him," He whispered as his arm wrapped around your waist.
You didn't think much of his comment at the time.
That night, your legs shook as he held them over his shoulders, thrusting into you deeply.
"Gonna fill ya up," Peter whispered, his eyes never leaving the sight of his cock entering you, "Ya want that?"
"P-please," you choked out. At the time, you were so focused on how he was hitting that sweet spot that you didn't realize this was the first time he talked about coming inside you.
In hindsight, you couldn't blame yourself for not picking up on the signs. It was difficult when his calloused fingers were rubbing tight circles on your clit.
You did notice how the following month, when your family had gathered together, Peter couldn't take his eyes off of your cousin's baby.
"I think Peter wants one too," Your cousin motioned over to the table.
You looked to find Peter was kneeling down at the table, causing him to be at eye level with Reid, who was currently lying down in the baby lounger.
It was a sweet sight, Peter offering one of his fingers to Reid, his honeyed eyes never leaving the baby. A soft smile stretched onto his face as Reid attempted to wrap his tiny fingers around Peter's.
Other relatives mentioned their theories on Peter's desire to have children to you that night. You knew he wanted kids, it was one of the first things you two discussed on your first date.
You had been married for several years, taking the steps towards having children: paying off student debt, finding stable jobs, buying a townhouse.
It came to a head when you received a reminder from your OBGYN one night.
"Fuck, I gotta make an appointment," you said out loud.
Peter looked up from the exams he had been grading, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, "For what?"
"My IUD. It's been five years and I need to get it replaced," you explained as you pulled the app up on your phone to look at the availability of appointments.
"Or," Peter started, his fingers toying with the pen, "you could…..not replace it."
You nearly dropped your phone at the comment, "What do you mean not replace it?"
The tips of Peter's ears were turning red, which was funny considering he was the one who brought it up.
"You could just… have it taken out," He mumbled, his long fingers fidgeting with the pen he had been using to grade.
"If you want to start trying for a kid, I need you to actually say it instead of beating around the-"
"I want to start trying for a kid. I've wanted to start trying since I saw you holding Reid at Thanksgiving."
There was silence after his statement as you processed your husband's words.
"I….I've wanted to start trying since I saw you sitting with Reid when we went to my family's for Hanukkah." You admitted.
His eyes widened. Peter knew you wanted kids just like him, but he honestly wasn't sure what to expect when he brought this up. He had prepared himself for "we're not ready" or "not yet".
"So….we should start trying for a kid," He stated.
You couldn't help but giggle, "Well, first I have to get my IUD taken out."
Peter joined you in laughter, "That is kinda important."
You wiggled your eyebrows, "Kinda?"
"Yeah, just a little." Your giggles erupted into full on laughter, filling the bedroom.
"So when can you get it taken out?" Peter asked as his laughter subsided.
"Eager, are we?" You grinned.
"I've been waiting for this since our first date, forgive me," Peter deadpanned. Despite his tone, the comment still brought heat to your face.
Trying to play it off, you looked at your phone, pulling up the app your doctor's office used.
"The soonest appointment is next Wednesday at two-thirty."
"Take it."
—---------------------------------------
To say Peter was excited was an understatement.
"Apparently taking prenatal vitamins before you get pregnant helps," He said as he held up the bottle.
"Who told you that?" You asked before taking a bite of your apple.
"May."
You nearly choked on the piece of fruit, "Did you tell your aunt we're trying to conceive?!"
Peter shrugged, "She outwardly expressed that she wanted to be a grandparent when I turned eighteen. I figured if anyone has any tips, it's the person who works in a hospital."
"Who else have you told? The latest villain you've been fighting?"
"We should also stop drinking now. And stop eating fish high in Mercury. Those things lower your fertility," Peter said as he read over the article on his laptop, ignoring your comment.
"You do realize that this won't happen overnight, right?" You were excited but didn't want Peter to be disappointed.
"I know. But you can also get pregnant as soon as you get your IUD taken out. So we might as well increase our chances."
"I also can experience cramps and slight bleeding when I get my IUD taken out. So it's unlikely we'll be able to start on Wednesday," you explained.
"Oh," Peter said, clearly having not thought about that, "Well, that gives us more time for the vitamins to take effect and to get all the alcohol and mercury out of ya."
—------------
The removal was far less painful than the insertion.
As you entered your apartment, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you into a broad chest.
"How ya feeling?" Peter murmured into your hair.
"Sore. I'm also bleeding."
Peter squeezed the flesh of your waist, "I'm sorry bug."
"I feel bad for you. You seemed pretty excited to start," you giggled. You couldn't help it; the slight pout on Peter's face was adorable.
Peter shrugged, "I've waited six years. What's a few more days gonna do?"
You couldn't help but lean your head into his chest, his arms wrapped around you. His lips pressed against your forehead, his beard creating a soft friction.
"I love you bug," he whispered against your skin.
"I love you too Tiger," you looked up, your chin against his chest, "you've really waited six years for this?"
Peter's cheeks became flushed, "Yeah."
"Pete, we've been together for six years."
Now the tips of Peter's ears were bright red, "I….I figured you were the one early."
A giggle escapes your lips, the one that always brought a smile to Peter's face because it was sweeter than any love song he had ever heard, "How early Pete?"
"First date," you heard your husband mumble.
—----------------------
Usually on Saturdays, you and Peter were up and running errands.
But today, you two opted to sleep in. It was nice to wake up and find that he had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him.
"Hi bug," He whispered into your shoulder, his voice deeper than usual.
"Hi Tiger," you whispered back, your fingers brushing the hair away from his forehead.
"How ya feeling?" His nose brushed against yours. You couldn't help but admire the way his eye crinkles had become more pronounced over the years, along with the smattering of gray hairs throughout his beard and hair.
"Pretty good. Think my body has adjusted to not having something inserted up my vagina."
Peter grimaced, "When you say it like that, it sounds like some form of torture."
"Can't most of the things those with a uterus have to do, be classified as torture? Waxing, shaving our arms and legs, growing a human?"
"Growing a human isn't torture if you want it," He countered.
"I know, but it's not gonna be easy."
"I know," he pressed his lips against your temple, "and I'll be there for you every step of the way."
"Even if it's two in the morning and I'm craving pretzels and mint chocolate chip ice cream?" You asked.
"The bodega is just a few swings away," Peter assured you, bringing a smile to your face.
"What about when I cry over otters due to my emotions being heightened?" You asked, a light tease lacing your voice.
Peter rolled his eyes, "you already cry at otters."
"They're so cute! And they hold hands so-"
"So they don't get separated when they sleep," Peter finished for you.
"Have I cried over Otters before?" You asked, confused.
Peter chuckled as he stroked your hair, "when you're quite drunk. So I'd say I'm pretty prepared."
You rested your head on his chest, breathing to the rhyming of his heartbeat.
"I've also helped deliver several babies in the back of a taxi," Peter added, "So I have you covered there."
You shuddered at the thought, "I'd rather you swing me through the city than deliver our kid in the back of a taxi."
"Perhaps we should get you pregnant first before we decide on delivery options," Peter suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.
"I'm honestly surprised you didn't jump on me when I said I felt fine," you admitted.
"I wanted to be polite and say good morning first," Peter said, sheepishly. It was hard not to jump on you, but you were his wife after all, not some animal.
Your laughter was silenced by Peter's lips, his body now pressing against yours.
A whimper escaped your lips as you felt Peter's hips roll against yours. His large hands snaked underneath your Tshirt, squeezing your breasts.
Your hands tangled themselves into Peter's hair, tugging on the messy locks in an attempt to pull his lips away from your neck and back up to yours.
The removal of your clothes wasn't sexy or smooth. At one point, Peter had to get off you to pull down his sweats, huffing as he did so.
"Wanna be close to you," He mumbled as he got back on top of you. You continued to chuckle.
"I'd say you're about to be very close to me," Your chuckle turned into a gasp as Peter pulled down your shorts, your core now exposed to the cool air.
Peter's body shimmied down the bed, placing his head in between your thighs.
"That's n-not- oh- h-how babies a-are made," you gasped as his tongue began lapping up and down your slit.
"Gotta warm ya up," was all he explained before attaching his lips to your clit. In hindsight, it wasn't a bad idea. It had been close to a week since you two were last intimate.
The gaze of his honey-clouded eyes burned into your bare skin. He watched your face as his fingers filled you. You were beautiful as always, with your slightly parted lips and knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets.
But today was different. It wasn't that he didn't desire you all the time, wished to be consumed by you and make a home amists tangled bedsheets.
He just didn't think it was possible to desire you any more than he already did.
But then he saw you look at that baby, your big eyes filled with love, adoration, and care. And then you agreed to have his child.
He wanted to bury himself in you.
You were teetering over the edge when he pulled himself up and away from your thighs. A whine left your lips, your hips desperately bucking up as a desperate attempt to chase some friction, some type of relief.
"I-I know but, but if I keep going…." He shook his head as he chuckled at himself. Ironic that he was now slightly embarrassed at how close he already was to coming, considering he originally didn't want to go on a blind date with you.
Funny how things change.
Moans trailed past your lips, down your chin at the sensation of his hard cock slipping through your wetness. Fuck, you could hear yourself, hear how wet you were. The tip of his cock repeatedly brushed over your throbbing clit.
"I won't last much longer," Peter finished his sentence as he pushed himself into you.
He didn't mind the sensation of your fingernails digging into his broad shoulders. Your touch always grounded him. It was what he craved at the end of a long day, at the end of a strenuous night of patrolling.
Peter entered you slowly, bottoming out. For several moments, the bedroom was silent, apart from your panting. Your eyes couldn't leave his. It felt like your first time again, how neither one of you seemed to want to make the first move. But not out of hesitation, not out of fear of making a mistake.
You wanted to savor the moment. But you also wanted him to consume you.
So, you reached a hand up to push several strands of hair out his eyes, allowing him to see your reassuring nod. He pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back in.
The bedroom began to be filled with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours, your moans blending with his heavy panting.
Fuck you were gorgeous with your head thrown back against the pillow, back arched. It wasn't the first time he had seen such a sight. He had even taken a picture of it before, the polaroid tucked away in his wallet.
It was the fact that Peter was going to come inside you, without anything to prevent himself from filling you up. Chances were low you'd get pregnant right away, unless there was something new he was about to learn regarding the effects of a radioactive spider bite.
But it could happen, the fact that you two would continue trying to make it happen, drove him absolutely wild.
"Gonna fill you up real good, 'kay?" You nodded, the corners of your vision beginning to blur from the intense pleasure.
"Yeah? Is that what you want? To be full of me?"
The edge was getting closer and closer, making it difficult for you to form a coherent response.
"You wanna what?" Peter asked as one of his hands snaked down to where your two bodies met.
"W-wanna….I wanna…." His thrusts were getting harder, more purposeful. The circles he was tracing on your clit added to the pleasure he was submerging you in.
"Use your words pretty girl," He cooed, "C'mon, you can do it."
"W-wanna make you a Daddy." It was now Peter's turn to widen his eyes at your words. For a brief moment, his hips stilled.
Then they picked back up again, this time with a determined force.
"Come. Now. Come right fucking now," He grunted.
Peter was a lot of things, and sometimes that was dominant in the bedroom. But he had never ordered you like that.
"You heard me. Want you to make a mess on my cock before I fill ya up." He lifted up your legs, pinning them to his hips. The new position allowed him to fuck you even deeper, pushing you over.
You were incoherent as you came, only whines mixed with slurred chants of his name leaving your mouth. Peter followed quickly behind you; it had been tortured not having sex with you or masturbating for nearly a week, but he knew it would be worth it.
When your eyes opened, your knees were now pressed to your chest, Peter thrusting into you.
Fuck, had he not come yet? No, that was impossible. He had. You remember the feeling of warmth spreading through you, his hips stuttering, the raspy goans he let out- the telltale sign of him coming.
He had come, and by how full you felt, quite a bit.
Fuck.
Peter felt your eyes boring into his skin. Part of him felt guilty for not feeling guilty about continuing to fuck you.
But you just felt so good coming around his cock. And even though it was far from the first time he came inside you, it felt so much better now, now that he knew you wanted him to fill you up, you wanted his cum to take.
Peter needed it to take, it was an overwhelming desire he now had. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, stomach round and your tits full. Thoughts of you holding a baby that had his eyes and your hair. Thoughts of a little one running around the place.
Your lips were engulfed in a sloppy kiss, jolts of pleasure lighting up your body with each thrust. His body pressed your hips further into the pillow he had placed underneath.
"Gotta make sure n-nothin comes out," he explained in between kisses, his voice breathless.
All you could do was nod and cling onto him. You were entirely at his mercy and it thrilled you. Maybe in hindsight you should be concerned about how your husband seemed downright feral for you. Maybe you should reflect upon how much you enjoyed it in your next therapy session.
Lots of maybes. But for once, you weren't concerned about them. They weren't creeping into your brain, slowly but surely taking over your thoughts until it consumed you.
You were in a good place. You had a steady job that you enjoyed at least half of the time, depending on the day. You had a roof over your head. You were with someone who loved you, all parts of you.
This was what safety felt like. This was security.
"I love you," you whispered so softly, you were surprised he was able to hear it.
"Love you too," He pressed another kiss ro your lips, "You're gonna look s'pretty, full of me."
That mouth of his was going to be the death of you.
"Y'gonna be such a good mama too," the sweet words were a stark contrast to his sharp thrusts.
You wanted to praise him, to give him words of encouragement. But all you could was just nod your head as he continued to thrust into you. The only sounds that came out of you were pathetic whines as he continued thrusting into you.
Peter loved how your whines increased in pitch as his cock brushed against that sweet spot over and over. A near scowl formed as he saw you bury your head into the pillow.
"What's the matter? Don't want the neighbors to hear how badly you want me to put a baby in ya?"
You clenched at his words, eliciting a groan from Peter that was so guttural, your legs began to shake.
Every little reaction your body had to him only pushed Peter forward. The coil in your stomach was tightening. Peter knew you were close, your teeth always dug into your bottom lip, your hands desperately clinging onto any part of him you could reach.
"C'mon bug, n-need ya to make a mess on Daddy's cock," He said before sinking his teeth into your neck.
His words, combined with the sudden pain of his teeth digging into your, drove you over that sweet edge. He was the ocean, pushing and pulling you under. Just when you thought you had reached the surface, you were pulled back in by his long fingers stroking your clit, prolonging your pleasure.
Peter only lasted a few more thrusts before he came inside you again. You felt spent, unable to move.
He acted quickly, pulling out of you and quickly replacing his cock with his fingers.
Peter's name came out as a strangled moan when you felt his fingers curl inside you.
"I know, it's sensitive," He moved his body down until he was in-between your legs, "But I'd hate for any drop to go to waste."
Your hands latched onto his hair as he closed his mouth around your clit. It was too much: your previous orgasms, Peter's current goal of keeping you full of him.
Overstimulation was kicking in, causing you to throw your head back. Your thighs wrapped around his head, your body going against what your brain was saying.
He fucked his cum back into you with his fingers, his tongue lapping at your swollen bundle of nerves. Peter grinded his hips into the mattress. He couldn't help it, you sounded so pretty when you chanted his name like that.
"Just one more, give me one more, 'kay Bug?" He said in response to your desperate whines.
Your next orgasm was intense, your walls squeezing Peter's fingers so tightly that you were surprised they were still able to move.
Your head rested against the pillow, the room filled with nothing but heavy panting. The bed creaked as Peter's body moved.
Suddenly, your back was no longer touching the mattress. Instead, you felt the cool air touching your skin, your head spinning from the sudden movement.
Peter's hands gripped your hips, holding you above his. A gasp escaped your lips upon feeling his cock slip through your folds.
The ache you felt as his cock entered you was familiar and warm. When you looked up, it was the first time you noticed that his eyes had darkened, almost black.
He looked hungry.
"I got ya, just hold onto me." Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as he thrusted into you.
Pleasure quickly overtook the pain. Peter was memorizing with his head thrown back, kiss swollen lips parted. His hands gripped your hips, driving you down on his cock.
God, you could stare at him for hours.
"H-how do y-you still have anything left?" You asked, breathless.
Peter let out a low chuckle, "Didn't jack off for a week. Been savin' up for ya."
Fuck. He had been planning this, planning to fuck you until you were reduced to nothing but broken whines and grabby hands.
And his plan was working.
You slouched over, your head hovering above his broad chest. The room felt hazy. It took everything in you to focus on Peter's chest, the smattering of hairs, freckles, and moles. His skin grounded you, having physical proof that he was safe and here with you, that he wasn't still out on patrol and you were just imagining scenarios to calm yourself.
You rocked your hips forward, grinding against his. The movement earned a lewd groan from your husband, one of his hands trailing up from your hips to clutch at your chest.
Peter was trying to hold out, was trying to be respectful and a considerate husband. But when your lips attached themselves to his neck, your teeth sinking into his flesh, he knew he couldn't hold out much longer.
He bent his knees, allowing him to thrust into you while his other hand snaked up to your throat.
"Touch yourself," he groaned, looking up at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world. Like he was looking up at a piece of artwork in The Louvre, and not you.
But that was one of Peter's habits that you fell in love with. He made you feel special, made you feel worthy enough. Made all the self doubt you held wash away in moments like these.
So you listened to him, a hand reaching down to where your two bodies met.
The pleasure ebbed and flowed into and out of sensitivity. Your walls clenched around his cock, pushing him closer.
Peter tried, he really did. But you felt so divine, so transcendent, he couldn't help it. He threw his head back as he came, slamming your hips down against his as he emptied inside of you.
The sensation of feeling him come inside, combined with how full you felt, pushed you over. You slumped forward, your head resting on his chest.
Peter's hands remained on your hips, pinning them to his.
"Just stay there baby. Soak me up." You nodded your head weakly at his words. It wasn't like you could move, given the grip he had on your body.
The two of you laid there in bed, your hearts racing. Once he realized you wouldn't move (you were far too spent), Peter's hands trailed up to your back, drawing comforting circles.
After a while, he wrapped his arms around you and gently switched positions, your back now against the mattress. You hissed as he pulled out.
"B-break," you mumbled.
"I got ya," He whispered in between pressing feather-like kisses across your forehead and temple.
"You think it took?" Peter asked after a few moments of silence.
You couldn't help but giggle, "Can't your Spidey sense tell?"
Peter moved down, pressing his ear against your stomach as if it were a shell from the ocean.
"Can't hear anything, guess we gotta try again," he smirked.
"You seem really broken up about it," you deadpanned. Peter's face broke out onto a grin.
"Darn," His voice was dripping with sarcasm and he even snapped his fingers for added effect.
"What happened to wanting it to take the first time?"
Peter shrugged, "I mean, I still want to put a baby in you sooner rather than later, but…figured it would be fun to try for a little bit."
Your fingers ran through Peter's hair, trailing down to his bearded cheek, "Peter Benjamin Parker, you're insatiable."
Peter's lips formed a mischievous smirk before they began nipping at your neck, making its way up to your jawline.
"Maybe you can help me?" He asked, his breath hot on your ear.
"I need a break, I don't have a super short recovery time due to a radioactive spider bite." You looked into his eyes, hoping your pout would be intimidating, or show your annoyance.
Instead, Peter laughed at your adorable expression. His eyes looked over your features as his fingers brushed against your cheek.
"I hope they get your nose," He said before placing a kiss to it. The comment brought warmth to your face and body.
"I hope they get your hair. And eyes."
Peter shook his head, "You have way better eyes."
"You have kind eyes. I want our kids to be kind," you admitted, your fingers gently threading through his hair.
"They will be," Peter pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, "Because you're their Mom, the kindest person I know."
"They also have you as their dad."
Peter didn't respond, focusing on tracing your features with his long fingers.
"I still want them to have your eyes," He admitted, a sheepish smile overtaking his face.
You rolled your eyes, "Can you use your Spidey sense to tell them that?"
Peter laughed, nuzzling his nose against yours, "Guess I'll have to wait until they can hear noises and recognize voices."
And he did. When you showed him the positive pregnancy test six months later, he talked to your growing bump every night. Sometimes he told stories, sometimes he whispered dreams and hopes. But always, he managed to make a reference about how your child needed to ensure that they had your eyes.
In true Parker fashion, Benjamin Richard Parker was born with honey-casted eyes, just like his father.
#my writing#peter parker smut#peter parker imagine#peter parker oneshot#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker x reader smut#peter parker x y/n#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm peter x you#tasm peter x reader#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x you#tasm!spiderman x you#tasm!peter x reader#tasm fic#andrew garfield x reader#spiderman x reader#spiderman x you#spiderman x y/n#spiderman smut
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It's Better On Top
i relate cause this was me a few months ago.
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 5.3K
Warnings: small smut scene, overprotective brothers and a small spiral of panic
Summary: you've always wanted to sleep on the top bunk of a bunk bed, it was sacrier than you thought and you need your boyfriend to help you get down
There was a child-like wonder to Peter’s room.
The wall’s were a muted tone, chosen by whichever maintenance man who hated the idea of color. To make up for the lack of personality he’s added his own. Posters from being a tween till now, you could make out the older ones by the wrinkles in the edges. Pictures from all ages bounced around the room, ones with May, Ned and you. You always liked to fawn over his childhood ones, he looked so small and loving. He’d gladly follow you in the back of the van to see your new puppy, a favorite is one where he’s perched on May’s shoulders so happy to be up high.
Awards and certificates of his genius covered any empty spots, only small peeks of the bland wall poked through. He had trinkets all around, figurines and collectables. He kept his prized ones on a shelf where he dusted once a week, the others floated on shelves, windowsills, or his desk. And the legos, he had sets everywhere, he hated breaking them apart after. It wasn’t about maintaining a pretty thing, it was about appreciating his frustration, concentration, and pride.
He can do hard things because they turn out beautiful in the end.
You caught the loose pieces, tucked in a plastic tub under his bed.
His bed. Your favorite part of his room, he had something you’ve always wanted before. You begged your parents for years but they never delivered, you never had friends with one either. They just looked so fun, a permanent sleepover. Something to open the room, more space to play. When you first came over to his house you stood in awe, he had one. It was too soon to ask, and you waited until the moment striked.
Tonight was the night you would finally fulfill your childhood dreams and sleep on the top bunk of a bunk bed.
“Question.”
Peter looked up from his desk for a moment, his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth slunk back in. He answered your words with a raised eyebrow, he grunted looking at his suit sewing up the shoulder.
“Can I sleep on the top bunk tonight?”
His eyes flickered up to the top, then back to his suit.
“Why do you wanna do that? I sleep on the bottom bunk, you know.” He tugged the thread tightly.
You do know, you’ve never been on top though. It felt like a summer camp, as you imagine. You’ve never been to one, you wonder if Peter has. To sleep in the same room as Peter, arm lengths away, to have him softly snoring underneath you as you count the stress fractures on his ceiling sounded blissful.
“I’ve never slept on a bunk bed.”
Peter looks at you and grins, “You sleep on it with me.”
You roll your eyes, “Yeah but I’ve never had the sleepover bunk bed experience.”
He drops his hands for a moment, “You never told me that, we could’ve done that ages ago baby.”
You perk up, “So tonight?”
Peter smiles softly, “I don’t know the last time the sheets were washed, I’ll set it up for you and I promise next time you can.”
You bounce up and down on his bed, you can’t help yourself. You’re just so excited, you leap up to cross the room to press kisses to his face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He laughed as he lightly pushed you off him, “If I had known it would make you this happy I would’ve had you up there a million times by now.”
You squeeze at him before clasping your hands, “It’s gonna be so fun, Petey. It’ll be like summer camp!”
He raised an eyebrow, “Does that make me your counselor?”
You ran your index finger down his chest and lowered your voice, “Shit sexy, you could be my camp director.”
He matched your energy, “I’ll direct your camp.”
You tried to bite back a smile, right before you broke it he sucked a breath through his teeth.
“That was bad.”
“It was.”
“Swing and a miss.”
“If you’re on my mound you won’t be missing.”
Peter fake gagged, “You’re just as bad as me, get away you’re radiating bad flirting vibes and it’s affecting me.”
You gasp and smack his shoulder, “Take it back! I’m not a bad flirt!”
He nods and puts on a dumb voice, “Okay.”
You cross your arms and narrow your eyes, Peter takes in your movements and gasps.
“Don’t you dare.”
“I will if you don’t take it back.”
“It’s not my fault you’re radiating bad flirting vibes.”
“That’s it, you have two seconds or the legislation is being enacted.”
Peter holds his breath and winces, he’s not breaking. Neither are you.
“I tried being reasonable, Parker. You’ve lost kissing privileges until you repent for your sins against hot, excellent flirter girlfriends.”
He holds a fist in the air and cries out, “Noooooo!”
“That doesn’t sound like an apology to me, me and my lonely lips are going back to your bed, where they will stay until I get a heartfelt apology.”
Peter pulled at the thread on his needle with his teeth snapping it. He tossed his suit on his desk and pulled at your arm as you walked away from him, spinning you around he pulled you into his lap and kissed you repeatedly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Each apology wrapped with a kiss. You giggled and kicked your feet and you pushed at his jaw but he insisted on kissing your jaw and neck.
“Okay, okay! Sins repented!”
“Did I do enough hail mary’s, my priest?” A wet kiss placed at your jawline.
“What kind of roleplay is this?” Peter jumped slightly, May was leaning in the doorway.
“I had to repent for my sins, May. I was just making sure I was in the clear.”
“He said I had bad flirting vibes, May. The boy had to be punished.”
May ran one index finger over the over in a ‘shame’ motion, “Shame.”
Peter groaned, “I repented! The priest gives me the pass, go back to Jeopardy, May.”
May raised her hands, “Alright, children of god. Dinner in an hour.”
She turned slowly as she walked away, “No more sinning under my roof, Peter. You’re on thin ice as is.”
He turned to whisper to you, “Did she just tell me I was going to hell?”
You nodded quickly and matched his tone, “Yeah baby, she did.”
Peter scoffed and looked at his suit with a sigh, “And just when a guy thinks he’s won enough good karma he’s tossed back in the hole.”
“I bet it's lonely down there.”
“And cold.”
“I picture rain.”
“Yeah, but it’s only on me so I can’t escape it.”
“Like one of those cartoons with the clouds above their head?”
“Exactly.”
“Damn. Well, I’ll send a postcard from heaven.”
“That is literally so toxic, get off of me.”
You threw your head back laughing as Peter lightly pushed at your thighs.
—----------------------
You couldn’t help the wicked grin that crossed your face, Peter Parker was many things but number one on the list is best boyfriend ever.
He had sent you a picture of the top bunk, it was taken from the ladder. A new set of sheets and your favorite throw blanket you kept on the couch was tucked in the corners of the bed. His childhood teddy bear was tucked in the railing against the wall, a small paper he wrote on was taped to the wall, you couldn’t read it over the phone.
‘Guess who’s gonna have the best sleepover of their life.’ Was the text sent with it, you couldn’t help but send one back of your cheesy grin. ‘Did I ever mention how much I love you?’
‘Once or twice, it doesn't hurt to hear it again.’
‘I love my handsome, thoughtful boyfriend.’
He sent a questioning emoji, ‘You have another boyfriend?’
‘It’s amazing how you can be lovely and toxic at the same time.’
‘Like a fuckin mirror babe.’
You grunted at the phone with narrowed eyes.
‘Be safe tonight, don’t die pls.’
‘I have a very important sleepover and my girlfriend is losing her bunk bed virginity, (twice) so I can’t die, the gods have spoken it into existence.’
‘Just for that comment, I lied. I wasn’t a virgin.’
‘Trust me, you were.’
You sent a grumpy face, ‘I’ll see you tonight, I love you.’
‘Love you too, baby.’
You could hardly count the minutes down until Peter got back from patrol and sent you the come over text, as silly as it was it felt like it was healing your inner childhood. Not to mention, unknown to you, Peter totally leaned into it and was committed to give you the best sleepover ever, snacks and drinks and take out and movies and everything you could want at a sleepover was carefully planned.
Staring at your dresser you contemplated showing up in pajamas or bringing a bag, you figured you should bring some real clothes just in case but you were committed to wearing one of his shirts with some pajama shorts, ones he would say were delicious on you. They were too short for you to bravely wear them on the bus so you begged your brother to take you, it only cost you twenty bucks, he let you off easy.
You knew he was busy swinging and you always hated the idea of sending him a text while he was possibly in the middle of kicking someone's ass and throwing him off, however, this was life or death.
‘Are we eating at yours or should I eat here?’
‘I planned on chinese, I should be home in an hour or two.’
"Sounds yummy, let me know when you’re on the way home, it only cost me a twenty to get a ride.’
‘Highway robbery, man up and strap some webshooters to those wrists.’
‘I’d die and you would be happy.’
‘Cash in on that life insurance.’
‘I knew you were with me for my money.’
‘And dat ass.’
‘I’m taking a shower.’
“Ooh, take a picture.’
—--------------------------------
You resorted to painting your toenails and watch a quick murder mystery video on youtube while you waited for Peter to call, the waiting was always the hardest part, you were selfish and wanted him when you wanted him, you just had to remind yourself it’s just like he has a normal job but with better flexibility.
It didn’t make it easier, you still wanted Peter more than the city deserved Spider-Man. You would never tell him that.
You steady your hand as you applied the second coat, you took the shower first and wouldn’t be able to wash away the color that went out of line.
Your phone lit up with a picture of Peter, he was rubbing at his eye with a soft grin, caught before a yawn. It was the morning of a sleepover and you caught him before he made you breakfast and smothered you in kisses between May’s wandering eyes.
“Hello lover.” You drawled out the words like you weren’t waiting for his call.
“Hey trouble.” His voice was as smooth as aged scotch on the rocks
You heard him breathe in quickly as the air wooshed by him, he was heading home you assume.
“I’m gonna stop and get us dinner, head over in ten, okay baby?”
“Get me soup too, please!”
“Got it. Wait, should I get your brother something?”
“Are you trying to wine and dine my sibling?” You giggle into the phone.
“I’m trying to make him like me.”
“Crab rangoons are a start.”
“He’s gonna be my bitch in five years, just you wait.”
“Playing the long game are you?”
“You know, if you want to slip how good of a boyfriend I am for fulfilling your childhood dream on that car ride I wouldn’t object.”
“Petey, honey. He doesn’t give a shit about my childhood dreams.”
“Siblings are brutal. Thank god I’m an only child.”
“I’ll get him to come inside, you can bro hug or whatever and give him his rangoons and he’s guaranteed gonna tell me you’re cool later in private.”
“You’re the bestest, see you soon, trouble.”
“Love youuuuu.”
The second you hung up you nearly kicked the door in at your brother's room and told him he had five minutes before he had to tote you across town, per agreement.
Minutes later you were riding in silence as he blasted a new playlist, you would never admit it but you found some good songs from him. At a red light he rested his hand on his gear shift, picking at his bottom lip he tried subtle conversation.
“Are you gonna need a ride home tomorrow or will the kid take care of it?”
“If you don’t feel like picking me up then Peter, my boyfriend, will take me home.” Then follow up with, “Or maybe stay another night.”
He shakes his head quickly, “I’ll pick you up, just text me when.”
“He’s coming on the trip this year, you have to be nice. He’s nice, he’s good to me.” You say his name softly, he’s told you before that it’s just him fearing for your heartbreak, something Peter could cause and he would have to watch you heal from that. He knows how true heartbreak feels and he would never want you to feel that too, he thought he was dying.
He accelerated at the green light.
“I don’t hate the kid, I just don’t like him.”
You sigh, “You can call him by his name, you won’t summon him I promise.”
“He’s nice, I’ll throw you that bone.”
“Just nice?”
“He seems to treat you alright, rare to have a freakishly chivalrous guy this day in age.”
“I’m telling Peter you said that, he’s so anxious about you hating him. He is so desperate for your approval it’s kinda sad.”
“Don’t! Intimidation is the only thing I have over him.”
You know he jokes about messing Peter up if he dares dump you but you know it’s all talk.
“You really think Peter’s gonna dump me?”
“Between the two of you? Yeah. You could never do it.”
You snort, “He said the exact same about himself.”
Your brother just hums and turns the music back up, there was no need to ask for directions, he’s been on this route hundreds of times in the past almost year.
When he pulled to the curb you made a puppy dog face, “will you please come up? I have something you need to bring home and I don’t want to have to go up and down twice.”
He pulled his eyebrows in, “You can’t bring it home tomorrow?”
Shit.
“No, mom needs it now. I forgot to ask Peter to bring it over earlier.”
“What is it?”
“C’mon, please! It’ll take five minutes.”
He stared at you before groaning and throwing his seat belt off, ripping the key from the ignition. Without waiting on you he opened his door and started walking to the entrance making you scramble to escape the seat and power walking to catch up.
You walked in on him mass spamming the elevator button as if it would make it come faster, “what floor is the kid on again?”
“Peter.” you enunciated, “Lives on floor seven.”
“Right.”
He knocked, no, pounded on the door. Peter swung the door open fast, half worried you were desperate to get in but rather met with your brother's face. He quickly reset himself and smiled before opening the door for you to enter, Peter held out his hand for a shake with a nod of his name.
Your brother shook his hand firmly, “Pecker.”
“Peter!” you corrected, loudly.
Peter waved it off, “close enough.” Then made his way to you leaning in for a quick kiss, “Hi, trouble.” You couldn’t help the smile. “Hi, handsome.” He gave you a squeezing hug and mumbled in your ear as he softly swayed you, “I missed you,”
Your brother let out a gag, “alright what did you need me to bring home, this place reeks of Parker.”
“Ah! I got you these,” he hopped into the kitchen to grab the small take away box. “Crab rangoons.” Peter nodded at the container as he handed it out, your brother took it wearily, “I don’t normally accept bribes but this one slides, that’s-“ he made eye contact with you, “very nice of you.”
You nodded your head and couldn’t help the growing grin, then he realized your game and gave a nod at Peter then turned to leave he pointed at you, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”
“Oh you don’t have to, I can bring her home.”
Your brother looked over his shoulder at him, then repeated himself “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”
When the door shut loudly Peter looked at you with an excited face, “that went well, right? He only referred to me as a penis once!” You smiled before grabbing at his shoulders moving him to the couch and straddling him, Peter rested his palms on your thighs lightly tapping them, his eyebrows raised waiting for you to talk.
“He didn’t want me to tell you this but because I love you, and I’m starting to feel extreme pity for you-“
“Thanks, baby.” A squeeze.
“-Welcome, he told me in the car that he thinks you’re nice and you treat me freakishly well, so in his words, “I don’t hate the kid, I just don’t like him.””
“At this rate he may even tolerate me by the time we go on vacation.”
You squeeze his shoulders and place a chaste kiss to his mouth, “The rangoons just put you at not complaining if you come over for dinner level.”
Peter threw his head back, “Let’s goooooo.”
You let out a small sigh, he tried so hard. “It’s not personal Pete, he just doesn’t want you to hurt me and not that he would admit it, I think a part of him doesn’t want to like you because if we were to ever split he would miss you too.”
He pulls a dumb face, “okay but has he considered we won’t break up, like ever?”
You shrug, “Yeah, about that..”
Peter rolls his eyes and flips you to pin you to the couch, “you stop it, woman. I am going to wine, dine and bed you before banishing you from mine tonight.”
“Don’t wanna make the bed rock from up top?”
“And have my head whack the ceiling a million times? No.”
“I could be on top.”
“And have you whack your head on the ceiling? Absolutely not.”
“You’re such a gentleman, do you have any objections to making the couch rock?”
Peter dropped his jaw and scoffed, he looked over your face looking for your bluff, you weren’t kidding. He supported himself with one hand as the other slipped under his— your shirt, “You know May uses this couch.”
You nod as you wrap your legs around his waist pulling him in, “I know.”
He groans when you grind against him, “It would be dirty of us, we shouldn’t.”
You look in his eyes as he watches you pull up slightly pulling your shirt off, he glances at your chest before looking back at you. “We shouldn’t,” you agree with him as you shuffle your pajama shorts down your thighs, Peter lets out a room quieting gasp when you pull him from his pants.
“Fuck you’re eager.”
You lean up to place a kiss below his ear, “I’m just showing how much I missed you.”
He let out another curse when you rolled your hips into his, “You’re dirty, so so dirty.” ————————-
Peter had woken you up from the couch around one in the morning, he had let you sleep through the last half of the movie you had started. And you were sleepy until he woke you up and started to push you towards his room and seeing his bedside lamp light up the room woke you up more.
Rubbing at your eye you speak through a yawn, Peter still understands.
“Course you can still sleep up top.”
He pulls down his own sheet and shakes his own yawn, you start to climb up the ladder and notice the higher you got the shakier your knees became, then you slightly duck because you’re closer to the ceiling than you estimated.
With a slight turn over your shoulder your tongue melts in your mouth, it’s higher up than what you thought. And sure, you’re not a kid and it’s just a bunk bed but it feels like all rational thinking went out the window, it was high up and you can’t help but think about the fall down.
“Help?”
Peter looked at you with a tilted head and his hands on his hips, he was about to ask ‘help with what?’ but rather used his detective skills and nodded his head. He crossed the room and followed you up the ladder, as he followed up you were able to comfortably sit on the top bunk.
You crossed your legs with a small smile, like you didn’t just panic and ask for him to follow you up in case you somehow fell backwards. Peter’s eyebrows rise to ask if everything's okay, you open your arms for him to follow you down on the bed, you close him in with a tight hug.
“I love you.”
He laughs and places a kiss on your neck, “I love you too baby.”
“Okay, I’m ready. Tuck me in and call it a night, dad.”
Peter watched you shuffle under your blanket with a grunt at the title, he leaned over you to tuck in the sides so you were snuggled in. He pushed some hair out of your face and pressed a soft, longing kiss to your mouth.
“Goodnight, trouble.”
You bit your lip to suppress a grin, only a whisper left your mouth, “night.”
Only lasting five minutes of silence in the dark room, which was your preference by the way, Peter didn’t mind if a light was on but you claimed you couldn’t sleep in the light.
“It makes my eyelids see through, Peter.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
You called out to Peter.
“Pst, Peter.”
He has a stage whisper, “yeah?”
“Have you ever been to summer camp?”
He shuffles in bed, you think he’s pulling the blanket up.
“I’m poor.”
“I’ve never been either.”
“Notice you didn’t say you’re poor too?”
“Money is a mindset, Peter.”
“Sounds like you’re poor.”
A sigh, “I am.”
You hear him roll over, your own bed shakes with his jostle, you grip your sheets. Your slight edge sparked Peter’s senses.
“You okay up there?”
You wouldn’t object if he begged you to come sleep with him, but you were going to see out this childhood dream.
“Yeah. I miss you.”
He snorts, “Reach your hand down.”
You follow his instructions and wiggle your arm through the side bars, his hand encases your own. For a moment everything settles and you almost ask for him to come join you, but you’re terrified of the bed shaking.
“Couldn’t be further from you if I tried.”
“Will you do this all night?”
“And risk a frozen shoulder for you?” He shoots out, then adds, “Of course I would.”
“Aw, you’re such a good friend!”
His hand squeezes yours, “what kind of a friend?”
You giggle, “the bestest!”
“Wrong B word, dear.”
You gasp, “ I don’t think you’re a bitch, Peter!”
He groans, “That’s it, fend for yourself. Goodnight, traitor.”
Peter’s hand drops from yours and he turns towards the wall, you whine when he pulls away from you. “Fine then, goodnight, Parker.”
You hear him mumble to himself and grin while you let sleep take over.
——————————
Your phone said it was four twenty three in the morning.
You wonder when Peter will wake up, if he would rise when the sun did or, more likely, sleep until you wake him up when you get too bored of entertaining yourself like you usually do.
You have to pee, bad.
You got as far as one step on the ladder then felt yourself slightly sway, you tried to find the next step but were too scared to extend your foot all the way to reach it.
You tried looking back and cursed yourself for sleeping in the pitch black tonight, you were in limbo between sending it and hopping down and crawling back up and waving a white flag.
Deciding you were a grown badass you forced yourself to take the next step and nearly slipped, Peter’s foot was resting right between the steps and his blanket made the step slick. You nearly fell backwards, in a rush you climbed back up and checked the time to see if you could wait it out.
You were able to wait for ten minutes, then a cramp hit and all you can think about is the toilet ten steps away.
Calling quits you realize your only hope was Peter, and he was dead asleep judging by his snores. Nevertheless, you start to plead.
“Peter?” A whisper.
“Peter.” A little louder.
He snores loudly at that one.
“Peter!” A whisper shout.
He’s not answering.
He’s not answering, and he’s not awake, and you can’t get down, and you have to pee and you were the one that wanted this.
You blink back tears, why do you want to cry?
“Peter!” You spoke in a regular but quiet voice.
He stays silent, you start to chant his name over and over, he doesn’t respond.
On the fourth call your tears break through, you sigh heavily. Tears dripped down your chin into your hands, you called out one more time, begging.
“Peter, please.”
You sniffle, then let out a breath of fresh air.
“Baby?” It’s raspy and spoken through a sharp inhale, he feels like cold water has been dumped on him.
He stares at the slats above him like he has x-ray vision to see through them to you.
“Peter! I can’t- I don’t know how- I have to-“ You start to breath heavy, your eyes flooding with panic and embarrassment, and you really fucking have to pee.
Peter untangled himself to stand up, he pulled down a leg of his boxer briefs that had risen with his tossing and turning.
“What’s wrong?”
You gasp for air, you feel the bed shake when he pulls at the ladder to pull himself up. You wrap your hands around your head, “I wanna get down, I wanna get down!”
You repeat the words over and over until you feel hands over your own, the bed dips where Peter has his knees on either side of you. He wraps you tight in his arms, “It’s okay, you’re okay. We can get you down, it’s okay.” You wind your arms around his, tucking yourself in your neck to start to cry.
Peter’s heart hurts, you’re scared.
“You’re safe. I’m here, okay?”
He feels your warm breath wash over his chest, you try and calm yourself down, it’s not as scary when Peter has you surrounded.
“I couldn’t get down and you wouldn’t wake up.”
Peter frowns between your studders, he hates that you were calling out for him and he didn’t hear it.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m here now, okay? Wanna get down?”
You nod into his neck, “I have to pee so bad.”
Peter breathed through a smile and kissed the top of your head, “okay, let’s go pee.” He pulled himself away and started to go down the ladder, you watched him with wide eyes trying to memorize his steps so you could match.
You looked up and noticed how close you were to the ceiling, your throat felt like it closed up. You could feel how shaky your knees were even looking at the space to go down, you figured you would wet the bed tonight.
“I’m right here, trouble. I won’t let you fall, I promise.”
You shake your head, “I can’t. I tried and I can’t.”
Peter hums and looks around the room, he can’t carry you down. The physics wouldn’t allow him too, his only option was catching you.
“Can you sit on the railing for me, baby?”
You reached out a hand to wiggle it, it seemed sturdy.
“Okay.”
You white knuckled the banister when it creaked under your weight, “Peter, get me down, please get me down. I’m gonna freak out.”
“I need you to trust me, sweetheart. Just drop.”
You hold on tighter, your voice squeaks. “Drop?!”
“I gotta catch you, I can’t carry you down, baby.”
You look over to the window, the moon was lighting up one side of the room, you can barely make out his figure on the side of the bed.
“Can you see me?”
He lets out a small laugh, “Yes, baby, I can see you.”
You buffer and hold up a hand, “How many fingers am I holding up?” The other hand has a vice grip to steady you.
“Four.”
You whine, “I’m scared.”
Peter’s heart hurts again.
“I know you are, I promise I’ll catch you, okay?”
“Okay.” You don’t sound very confident.
“I’m gonna let go.”
“I’m ready.”
You loosen your grip then immediately double down.
“Okay, I’m gonna drop now.”
“Got it.”
You stay there for another second.
“Baby, you gotta let go.”
“Be honest, will you be mad if I wet the bed?”
“No, but how are you gonna get down after that?”
You breathe in deeply, “I’m gonna actually do it, you promise you’ll catch me?”
“I promise.”
You loosen your hold to push off, “I’m about to let go.”
“I’m right here.”
You hold your breath and push off as hard as you could, your hair breezes and your body feels weightless for just a moment. Then you’re caught, hands wrap around your back and thighs, you feel yourself bounce in his hold then level out.
“Caught you.” Peter’s voice is a whisper in your ear, you kick your legs to be let down. You immediately turn to wrap him in a hug, “thank you, I love you.” Then push him back to sprint to the bathroom.
When you come back in he’s back in bed, his blanket open for you to join. You couldn’t help but feel like a little kid, but it was dark and high up and to be fair you couldn’t see where you were going.
Sliding next to him his eyes open, “the first time I was on top bunk I was like, seven and I had a nightmare and I couldn’t get down and was screaming so loud May woke up and had to come rescue me.”
“I didn’t realize I'd feel so trapped up there.”
He hums, “It does feel like that, huh?”
“You were my hero tonight, you’re good at that. Maybe you should look into a job doing that.”
“I may have to look into it, I’m tired of being New York City’s Spider-Menace.” Then decides to add, “I’m sorry you were scared and needed me and I wasn’t waking up. You must’ve been petrified.”
“I don’t think I’m ever gonna go up there again.”
He laughs, “that’s okay.”
You roll over to stick your face against his arm. “Sorry I woke you up.”
“Your tears were coming through the slats, it was chinese water torture.” You open your mouth to bite at him, he grunts. “I’ll let you get away with that, you had a scary night.”
“Remember earlier when we were talking about B words?”
Peter hums, he’s falling back asleep. He never used to fall asleep so fast until he met you, having you tucked into his side always made him sleep soundly.
“You’re the best boyfriend ever.”
He opens his arm to pull you into him, “you make it easy.”
#peter parker x reader#peter parker angst#peter parker blurb#peter parker fluff#tasm!peter one shot#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter x you#tasm fic#peter parker fic#my writing
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boyfriend! peter thoughts bc i need to talk about it like now
-always sitting on his lap. always. whenever you’re in his room and he’s at his desk doing work he pats his knee and you trot over and sit on his knee and he bounces it slightly while he explains his work while you just listen and nod
- takes photos of you 24/7 and sticks them up all over his room. he also has a polaroid camera where he takes dirty photos of you and looks at them while he jerks off
-builds lego sets with you and keeps the extra pieces at the end of the build to make something else for you out of the spares
-whenever you get anxious or overwhelmed he shields you from the world, answering questions for you, calming you down, ordering for you etc
- he is always playing with your hair or jewelry or some part of you he can reach and admire. also a reason to smell your perfume
-im getting a weird feeling about gummy worms. like he always has some? just on him to randomly pull out and munch on? his fav are the yellow and red
-you often stand on his toes to kiss him bc hes reallyyy tall
-he always guides you through sex. always. coaxing you through things, checking in on you. i have a feeling he cooes at you a lot, that faux pity voice that drives me wild.
-when he drives you places he has a hand on your thigh, on your headrest when hes backing up and he always has an old radio station that no one cares about but he does for some reason
-really into bondage. or that whole helplessness thing. knowing youre so fragile and vulnerable with him drives him wild bc he feels like he can corrupt you
-so supportive. even if its kinda from a distance, like maybe hes not the loudest one clapping bc he is kinda introverted, he always shows up to your events and supports you/ gives you so many pep talks about how awesome you are
- likes head scratches and when you nibble on his fingers
- teaches you video games without mansplaining things and then lets you teach him your interests
#claire writes#peter parker#tasm andrew garfield#tasm peter parker#tasm smut#peter parker smut#andrew!peter parker#andrew!peter fanfiction#andrew!peter smut#andrew!peter fluff#tasm!peter fluff#tasm!peter fanfiction#spiderman#spiderman smut#spiderman x reader#spiderman fanfiction#tasm fic#tasm!peter parker#andrew garfield#Andrew!Spiderman
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The Way We Feel When We Dance
Tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader
Word count-3.9k
Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), reader dances, protective!Peter, harassment, Spiderman picks up reader (he has super strength but still I wanted to add this here), reader is hinted to be more curvy but it open to interpretation, fluff, feelings, Peter and reader are both adults and are at a dance club in the beginning, no use of y/n
Notes- This is a very late part 2 of my 5k follower thank you gift fics (I did one Pedro character and one non Pedro character lol). Thank you all who have been following and supporting me and my works here! While this reader is not physically described at all other than body parts, I pictured and heavily implied that she is Latina here. But it can absolutely still be read by anyone. Enjoy!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that as well and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!
~
The pulse of the upbeat Latin music reverberated through the room as the lights danced in harmony with the beat. Sweaty bodies filled the dance floor that all moved to the rhythm. Feet stepped in time with the beat as hips swayed from side to side and arms shimmied with purpose. Smiles and laughter filled the air between each dancer as everyone had a fun time dancing the night away.
From the edge of the room, Peter sat at the bar. Even though the crowd, his gaze stayed solely on you. You captivated him with the way you danced to the music, carefree and beautiful. Your outfit accentuated your hips perfectly, and Peter couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.
Feeling his eyes on your figure, you opened your own from when you closed them from getting lost in the music. When your gaze met his, a bright smile lit up your face, which Peter mirrored. He raised his glass up in cheers as he watched you melodically make your way across the dance floor. A tinge of heat rose across Peter’s face as you stared at him with intent as you closed the gap between your bodies.
“Why don’t you join me, Peter?” you asked in a sultry tone as you swayed your body against his.
Peter’s cheeks reddened, “You know I have two left feet, sweetheart,” he giggled, feeling like a schoolboy around you.
You smirked as you leaned in closer to murmur in his ear, “You can swing from building to building hundreds of feet in the air,” you teased, “And you’re afraid to dance in public?”
“It’s not the same,” he retorted playfully as he nudged your side. Peter’s gaze dropped down to where your hips still swayed from side to side in a slow, lazy rhythm, “Besides, I’m enjoying my view right now.”
“Oh come on, Pete,” you pleaded as you slid your hand in his, “Here I’ll start off with an easy one. It’s three steps, I think you can handle it.”
“But…”
“Come on, babe!” Your instance was firm yet light-hearted. You knew if he truly didn’t want to dance, he would stop you, and you wouldn’t force it. Sometimes, your boyfriend just needed a little encouragement. And besides, you really wanted to feel his arms around you and the two of you danced together to the beat of the music, letting the rest of the world fade away…
Peter’s nervous giggle got drowned out by the music as he allowed you to guide him back to the dance floor. With all his strengths as Spiderman, Peter knew that you were his ultimate weakness, and he couldn’t deny you anything even if he wanted to. So, he could put his insecurities aside for the night and dance with you. Besides, holding you close as you lost yourselves in the music wasn’t a terrible thought…
“Put your arms on my waist,” you instructed once you found a spot on the dance floor with some space to move.
“Gladly,” Peter grinned widely as he did so.
You rolled your eyes for a moment, but let out a soft gasp when you felt his tight grip on your body. It made your heart pound more than the dancing did as the warmth and security of his embrace engulfed you, and you lost yourself for a moment. It was only your name in Peter’s voice that brought you back, “Right,” you met his eyes as you placed your hands on his shoulders, “Ok, watch me and do what I do in reverse.”
Peter swallowed hard and nodded as his gaze slowly ran down your body. He took the opportunity to study your outfit and how good it looked on you up close, and he memorized every inch of your figure.
“Like this,” you started slowly, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you stepped to the rhythm in a simple motion, “One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three,” you stepped back and first, side to side as your hips shimmied to the music.
Peter tried his best to keep up, but under your lead, he found he quickly fell into the rhythm.
“That’s it!” you exclaimed as you started to pick up your pace to better match the beat that played around you.
Laughter erupted from Peter as he felt himself get lost in the music too. The Latin beat that played highlighted your movements as the two of you danced together, wrapped in each other’s arms. A grin of your own lit up your face as your lips parted in a wide smile and you started to add more flair to your movements.
Peter was captivated. He almost forgot to move as he watched you lose yourself in the music. You looked so beautiful like this, and Peter counted himself the luckiest man in the world to get to have you, to get to be with you. A stupid smile lit up his face as he lost the rhythm on the song that played from being too enthralled with you.
Until…
“Ow!” you exclaimed as you suddenly stopped dancing.
“Sorry!” Peter realized what the problem was: he was so focused on you that he accidentally stepped on your foot, “Sorry, sweetheart,” he repeated as he caressed your shoulders, “You alright?”
“I”m fine,” you waved it off with a laugh. Feeling his grip on you, suddenly the music faded away and your world became just Peter. The way he held you and the way he looked at you made your heart flip in your chest, and you found that you didn’t care about your night out of dancing anymore.
Sending the change in your demeanor, and knowing that look on your face, he leaned in close and murmured, “Wanna get out of here?” Peter’s tone was low, rumbling against your ear and sending a chill down your spine. He placed a light, playful kiss on the tip of your nose while he was so close to you.
“Yes,” you breathed, knowing exactly what he meant and wanting that exact same thing.
This time, it was Peter who slid his hand in yours and led you away. You followed willingly and eagerly as you couldn’t help but giggle. No one had ever made you feel the way Peter did, and finding him was the best thing that ever happened to you.
And Peter felt the exact same way about you.
The cool air made you dizzy for a moment as the door to the outside opened. You let out a sigh as you adjusted to the feeling of the New York night air on your skin, and it became a welcome relief from the heat inside.
“You alright?” Peter asked.
“Great,” you answered, “Let’s go home.”
Peter smiled as he led you away from the club and into the busy night streets. New York truly never slept, and even late into the night, it was full of life and hustle and bustle. It was just as crowded outside as it was inside as you and Peter made your way down the long streets of the city. You felt safe, though, with your hand firmly in Peter’s.
But, you didn’t make it far before a group of men sneered at you as you passed by them. You felt their pointed gazes before Peter noticed them and you shuffled yourself closer to him. As the two of you walked by, they blew kisses at you and yelled obscene nicknames.
“Hey baby!” one of them shouted, “Why don’t you drop that little shrimpy boy and I’ll show you what a real man can do?”
The other man laughed as they all started to follow close behind.
Peter frowned as he pulled you in closer, tightening his grip on you, “I’ve got you,” he whispered to you, “Come on,” he turned down another street, hoping to lose the men in the crowd and avoid the situation escalating.
You let out a whine as you put your trust in him. Easily, you figured out that Peter wanted to use the crowd as a cover, but you stayed glued to his side still. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw that the men weren’t deterred and still tailed close behind you.
“Peter…”
“I know, I…”
He was cut off when a drunk couple bumped into the two of you, knocking you out of Peter’s grasp. You yelped as you found yourself separated from him, and over the noise of the crowd, you heard him call out your name.
“Peter!” you shouted back, trying to find him.
It was no use, though, and before you could blink, you found yourself alone. Not completely alone, though, as the group of men somehow found you after you got pushed away. “Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you turned and ran in the opposite direction. You could find Peter later, right now your first priority was losing these guys.
You made turn after turn trying to shake them, but it was no use. No matter where you went, the men were close behind, and they were catching up to you. And they continued to taunt you while they did so.
“Come on, sweet girl,” one leered, “We won’t hurt you.”
“Too badly,” another cackled darkly.
“Just give us a chance, pretty girl,” another pleaded in an insincere voice.
You whimpered as you tried to look for Peter in the crowd again, but to no avail, “Peter…” you hissed, “Dammit.” Lost in your panic, you didn’t notice that you turned into a dead end alley until you were face to face with a brick wall. “Shit,” your hands trembled as you turned around and saw that the men followed you, trapping you in the alley.
“It’s ok sweetheart,” one of them said in a voice that sent a chill down your spine, “We’ll take good care of you.”
Looking down at the ground, you saw a loose brick that fell out of the wall. You picked it up and threw it in the men’s direction, “Stay back!” you warned as the men easily ducked out of the way of the flying brick.
The men just laughed as they reached out for you. Having no other options, you closed your eyes and held your breath, anticipating the feeling of their rough hands on your body. But, it never came.
A twip from above whirled through the air, and the ball of webbing hit the hand of the man closest to you. He was knocked back, and his hand was pinned to the wall, stuck with the webbing.
“Didn’t anyone teach you boys that when a woman says “no” that you leave her alone?” a voice rang from above.
You opened your eyes and looked up, breathing a huge sigh of relief, “Spiderman!” you exhaled as he flipped down from his perch and stood in front of you, blocking the men.
“Spiderman!?” the other men clamored, “We weren’t doing nothing, we just…”
“It didn’t look like nothing to me,” he replied as he flicked his wrist, sending more webbing to the other men.
They all clamored as they tried to fight back, throwing punches that missed the webslinger over and over again. Spiderman easily avoided their punches and with just a few more flicks of his wrist, was able to catch all of them in his net. The men grunted and cursed as they found themselves stuck to either the wall or the ground, unable to move.
“Damn, you Spiderman!” one cried out.
“Fucking cockblock!” shouted another angrily.
Spiderman ignored them and turned to you, “You alright?” he asked in a softer tone.
“I am now,” you replied breathlessly as your heart pounded in your chest.
“Want a lift out of here?” he asked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.
Feeling more at ease, a smile grace your face, “I’d love one.”
“I’m gonna pick you up now,” his voice was soothing to you as he extended his arms out.
You nodded.
Spiderman stepped forward and wrapped his arm around you, lifting you off the ground with his superhuman strength. He paused and turned to the men who pursued you and said, “This is how you ask a lady out,” he sniped, “You should try asking nicely next time.” he added before he flicked his wrist and launched himself and you up and away.
Normally, you were too scared whenever Peter carried you through the city like this. But, after what almost happened, you were too preoccupied to notice more than the cool air in your face and the tight grip around your body. You buried yourself in the crook of his neck as you tightened your own grip on Peter as he flung you between the tall buildings of New York and towards the tiny apartment you both shared.
In no time, Peter made it to your window, opening it from the outside and setting you down carefully and gently. He hurriedly closed it before turning back around to face you, ripping his mask off in one swift motion as he closed the gap between your bodies.
“Are you ok?” he asked in a panic, “Did they hurt you?” Peter’s hand landed on your shoulders as he looked you over for any cuts or marks as he finally allowed himself to feel scared for you.
“I’m ok, Peter,” you replied back, your own voice sounding distant, “You found me just in time.”
Peter’s eyes locked with your for a moment before he dropped to the ground on his knees before you. He started to sob as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in cose, burying his face in your midsection, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he choked out between cries.
Tears of your own filled your eyes as your heart pounded in your chest. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and leaned over, covering him as you both held each other, “Don’t be sorry, Peter,” you whispered, “You saved me. I know you’ll always save me.”
He couldn’t help but cry harder at your words as he tightened his grip on you, “When we got separated,” he started, pausing to catch his breath, “I was so scared,” Peter confessed, “I was so scared something would happen to you… And I wouldn’t find you in time…”
“Hey,” you wiggled your way down to join him on the floor, “Look at me, Peter,” you cupped his face, and more tears fell down your cheeks as you looked into his red eyes, “You will always save me, Peter Parker. I know you will. I trust you with everything I am.”
Truthfully, you were just as scared as Peter was. The moment you were separated, you lost your security, your safe place. And while you had faith in him- you always did- that fear was still there. But right now, you had to be there for him, since he was already there for you.
Another tear rolled down Peter’s cheek, and you used your thumb to wipe it away. He whispered your name as he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of your touch under his skin. It was a comfort, and anchor, and Peter knew he had to trust you just as much as you trusted him. He saved you tonight. And he would always save you. That was his promise to you.
“Peter…” you breathed his name as you closed the gap between your faces, pressing your lips to his.
It felt like an explosion of fireworks between your bodies as you connected as one. Passions quickly arose as Peter clung to you and deepened the kiss, tasting you. You moaned into his mouth as you kissed him back just as passionately and tightened your grip on him.
Heat rose in the room as suddenly you both had one thing on your minds. The need to feel each other, to get tangled together and lost in the other, was overwhelming. With only breaking away for quick moments to undress each other, you and Peter clumsily made your way to the bed, stripping each other and kissing wherever you could reach along the way.
By the time your legs hit the edge of the bed, you and Peter were both bare for each other. He grabbed onto you in an attempt to land you underneath him as he leaned your bodies towards the mattress. But, you surprised him. You grabbed onto his torso and turned your bodies around so that by the time you hit the bed, you straddled overtop of Peter.
“Wow,” he murmured as his eyes trailed across your naked body on top of him. Peter’s hands caressed up and down your sides, feeling every dip and curve of your body, memorizing every inch of you with his hands.
“Wow yourself,” you snickered back as you bit your lip and enjoyed the sight of Peter, your Peter, in between your legs.
Leaning forward, you placed your hands on his pecs, giving them a soft squeeze as you rocked your hips along his. Both of you hissed and mewled as your folds ran along his hardening cock. Jolts of electricity ran up your spine with every movement, and you felt the way his cock twitched in anticipation underneath your hips.
Peter let out a curse as his hands dug into your hips. And he only groaned louder when you lifted yourself up to line up your entrance with his cock. Normally, Peter liked to take his time with you, kissing you all over and worshiping your body before he entered you. But today was different. Today, you were both too needy, too desperate to feel each other that neither of you could wait any longer.
You let out a gasp as the tip of his length pushed past your first ring of muscle and started to stretch you out. Slowly, you lowered yourself along his length, letting Peter fill you up inch by inch as your hips moved closer to his. Peter’s own groans harmonized with your moans as he felt your warmth engulf him.
“Fuck…” Peter whispered in awe when your hips met his and he felt your muscles clench around him. He moaned your name as he tightened his grip on your body and fought to keep his eyes open; Peter didn’t want to miss a second of how beautiful you looked.
A loud moan escaped your lips as you rolled your hips forward, feeling Peter’s cock inside you. You squeezed his pecs harder as you started to bounce up and down. Feeling bubbled over as you rode Peter’s cock so that they were almost physically palpable between the two of you.
Moving faster, you heard your skin slap against Peter’s as you felt every inch of him inside you. Heat rose in the room as you both clung to the other. Emotions drove you as your tights screamed at you the longer you lifted and lowered yourself onto him. But, Peter helped you. He used his strength to guide your hips along his cock, along his body. He never lessened his grip on you as he slid his hands to the soft mounds of your ass to help you and feel you more.
Peter lost the battle with his eyes, and they finally closed to allow himself to get lost in you. A louder groan echoed from deep with him as he felt your warmth and your tightness envelope him over and over again. And Peter knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept riding him like this.
In a flash, Peter’s eyes snapped open and he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around you. Before you could register his movements, you suddenly found yourself on your back as Peter flipped your bodies over so that he covered you.
“Peter…”
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he grunted as he leaned forward, driving his cock even deeper into you as his forehead touched yours.
All you could do was moan as a shiver ran up your spine. Peter’s cock hit that sweet spot inside you with precision, and you felt like your body was floating as he started drilling into you at a fast and desperate pace. “Fuck!” you cried out as your body began to tremble.
Peter snaked his hand up the sheet and took yours as he continued to rock into you over and over again. You took his hand, holding it tightly as you felt his breath against the skin on your face. Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks from the overwhelming emotions, and you could feel ones from Peter as well.
Peter groaned your name over and over again with every thrust of his hips as he held your hand as tightly as he possibly could.
“Peter… I’m gonna cum…” you gasped.
“Me too, sweetheart,” he words were strained from how breathless he was, “Cum with me, sweetheart. Let me feel you.”
“Pete!” you cried out as more tears fell down your cheeks as your entire body tingled. As you were about to let out a loud cry with your climax, Peter’s lips suddenly covered yours, muffling your screams.
His own groans and grunts were muffled as well as he felt his own peak hit at the same time as yours. Peter’s eyes shut tightly as he kissed you deeply while he spilled himself into you. He could feel every muscle in your body clench around him as you came hard on his cock, and your moans reverberated within him as he kept his lips on yours.
Peter kept up his pace as long as he could, riding out every ounce of both your climaxes until he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. With one final thrust of his hips, Peter finally broke the kiss as he pulled out of you and collapsed down next to you with a loud huff. You exhaled deeply as you caught your breath, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. Together, the two of you laid sprawled out next to each other on the bed, letting yourself recover from that whirlwind of passions.
Neither of you were sure who moved first, but you both instinctively reached out for each other, wrapping yourself up in a pretzel of limbs as you held each other close. You kissed his skin wherever you could, and Peter did the same to you, peppering feather light kisses on your body. As your heartbeats both came down to normal, a comfort washed over both of you. Feeling each other cose like this, knowing you were both here, made you know that everything was ok. You were ok. He was ok.
“I’m gonna do everything I can to protect you, sweetheart,” Peter broke the silence, “No matter what. Your safety always comes first,” he said as he squeezed you tightly.
“I know you will, Peter,” you whispered back as you kissed his skin, “I trust you. I know I’m safe with you.”
“You always will be,” he sounded more distant, as if sleep started to take him over.
“I love you, Peter Parker.”
He smiled, “I love you too, sweetheart.”
You were quiet for a few moments before you grinned against his chest, “Next time we go out dancing, let’s leave the action for the dance floor instead of the streets.”
Peter joined your laughter as he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, “I was thinking the same thing.”
#x reader#reader insert#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker x you#tasm peter parker#tasm peter x reader#tasm peter x you#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker x you#tasm!peter x you#andrew garfield peter parker#andrew garfield peter parker x reader#tasm andrew garfield#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter imagine#tasm peter imagines#tasm peter fluff#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#peter parker imagine#tasm peter parker fic#tasm peter parker imagine#the amazing spider man#tasm#tasm fanfiction#tasm fic
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heyy bambi i was wondering if i could request tasm!peter x reader where she’s grumpy and he’s sunshine with her getting jealous and not wanting to say anything so she just pouts and he thinks it’s so cute cause reader has nothing to worry about 🥹
hi friend loved this concept...however i can only bring myself to write frat tasm peter so that is incorporated into this plot because it's just fitting. hope you love it.
Love on the Brain
Frat!Peter x Reader
(in place of liking?hearting this post, pretty please, leave a reblog and/or a comment 🫶🏼)
This had been the flashiest frat party of the year by far. Even flashier than the one you and your friends had stumbled into six months ago, where you first met Peter Parker. Now Peter Parker had entangled himself in every sense of your life, like the spider he was. Everyone was dressed in some type of couples get up. Groups of friends having picked out group costumes, or couples having picked out iconic couple costumes. Which is what made you pissed off even more as the brunette dressed in a heart pink dress with a heart logo on it, grasped your boyfriend's arm. Peter’s eyes widened, very interested in her story not at all paying attention to the care-bear girl petting his bicep.
You two were very clearly dressed in a couples costume, both having walked down the stairs in a 1950’s get-up mocking that of Jack and Alice from Don’t Worry Darling. Besides that, everyone knew Peter Parker had a girlfriend, a girlfriend who was pretty territorial.
“He only has eyes for you.” M.J. approached you with two drinks in hand Harry in tow. The two dressed as Fred and Daphne from Scooby-Doo. She pushed the vodka sprite into your hand, eyes peering into you.
“I know. And I have eyes for her right now, just not the ones she wants.”
“He’s so oblivious.”
Harry laughed watching his friend, nodding his head answering the chemistry question thrown at him. “How’d you even get him to catch on that you liked him?”
“Didn’t have too he liked me first.” You shrugged sitting your drink down, leaning against the table of snacks where Peter had left you before being cornered.
“She’s not even one of the original care-bears.” M.J. shook her head. Peter finally pulled his eyes away from her, finding you in the crowd. Warmth and relief washed over you, but apparently not your face as Peter pointed your way talking to the girl. She huffed, dropping her hand shooting daggers at you. You bit back a smile, but your walls cracked as Peter walked over engulfing you in his arms.
“What’s the long face for mhm?” Peter teases.
“This is just my face.” You said dropping the smile again quickly.
“Mhm, is someone jealous? Mhm” Peter teased, rubbing his nose against your forehead, teasing you.
“No, of course not. You know where you’re taken care of.”
You whisper, fixing the tie, you’d put it around his neck earlier. You were insanely green on the inside, and it only filled more when you caught her and a girl in a blue dress pointing your way mumbling something about “bitch.” Your bottom lip pulled inward, biting down on it as you thought.
“You know it’s okay to get jealous. It’s healthy, good for a relationship. Shows we still got something, if you weren’t jealous..well baby I think I’d be a little offended.”
“Do you get jealous?” You deflected away from yourself, hands resting on his shoulders. Peter laughed and tilted his head.
“..’Course I get jealous baby. Why do you think I’m always hanging on you on these things? I gotta show we are both taken. These guys have wandering eyes and I don’t really like that.”
His words made you feel better, him bringing his lips down to your cheek and to the corner of your mouth. You smiled at him, locking your lips with him, hands squeezing his shoulders. “I love you.”
“I love you too baby, promise.” Peter says pecking your forehead. “Now let's go make fun of Harry and that dumbass ascot.” Peter says, taking a drink out of your cup, pointing at Harry who turned already anticipating the loving ridicule.
__________
taglist:
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HANDS
Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader
Summary - Peter is completely oblivious to just how horny you get while watching him work.
// masterlist // send me your thoughts //
Without a doubt, Peter was the smartest person you had ever met. Yet, somehow, he managed to simultaneously be the stupidest.
Prepping for college already kept both of you beyond busy, and the fact that all of his free time was spent clad in spandex swinging around New York didn’t leave the two of you with much time to spend together. Despite this, you two worked hard to make time for each other, with most of your hang-outs consisted of sitting in his room doing totally separate tasks, happy to just be in each other's presence.
Usually this didn’t bother you. Sure, a part of you missed doing all the normal couple things—like cute little dates or surprise movie nights, but the two of you were just too busy. So you savored the time spent in his company, enjoying stolen glances at one another and silly off-hand comments as the two of you tried to focus on your own work.
But tonight was different.
You had already finished all the work you needed to get done for the week and got a head start on next week's tasks, leaving you absolutely bored out of your mind. At first you managed to distract yourself, trying not to disturb Peter’s focus as he attempted to repair his web-shooters. You flipped through his comics, toyed with his camera, and even decided to fold the laundry he had carelessly left in the basket. After practically cleaning his room top-to-bottom, you were left sprawled out on his mattress, left with nothing else to do except sit around and watch him work.
It was interesting to watch Peter tinker with things, especially when they were related to his secret identity, and so you were content to watch him. For a while, at least. As you watched him you slowly noticed your boredom turning into something…else.
Peter’s hands were one of your favorite things about him—something he teased you relentlessly for—and they were on full display right now. You watched as his slender fingers moved along the web-shooters, muttering something under his breath about how he couldn’t figure out what he was doing wrong. If you were less distracted you might have offered to help him, just to give yourself something to do, but you were too lost in your own dirty thoughts to acknowledge his words.
He palmed at his desk, blindly reaching for a screwdriver. Your eyes drifted from his fingers to the top of his hand, watching as his blue veins protruded as he gripped the tool. A low groan escaped his lips, the sound only aiding in the fantasies beginning to swirl in your head, your jaw falling open just a bit. He was still struggling to fix whatever was wrong with them (you had long forgotten what the problem was at this point) and you barely noticed as he let the web-shooter fall roughly against his desk, leaning back in the chair and tangling his fingers in his hair.
Normally you would notice that he was getting frustrated, but you didn’t. You were absolutely gone at this point, thinking of how it felt to have his fingers tangled in your hair. The way it felt when he was feeling particularly cruel—just barely letting his fingertips trace against your skin, the sensation always leaving you desperate for more. He knew what it did to you, those featherlight touches as he moved along your hips, venturing dangerously close to your inner thigh. He liked the noises you’d make, the way you’d start to whimper as he pressed soft kisses to your neck, occasionally grazing his teeth against your flesh.
It was cruel enough that Peter loved to tease you so much, but it was even crueler that he was capable of doing it without even trying.
Here he was doing absolutely nothing and yet you could practically feel his skin against yours; the warmth of his palms against your waist or the feel of his nails digging into the thick flesh of your thighs. If your fantasies were real then you would’ve already been begging by now, practically on the verge of tears asking him to put his fingers inside of you.
The thought was enough to make you snap yourself out of your daydream, squeezing your legs together as you realized just how desperate you actually were for him. He was still leaning back in his chair, completely and totally unaware that his totally innocent actions had left you absolutely soaked. He didn’t pay any mind when you stood up from his bed, eyes still glued to his web-shooters as he racked his brain for better ways to fix them. It wasn’t until you were standing directly in front of him that he finally glanced up at you.
“You ok?” Concern was the first thing to flash across his features, always worried about you. But as you crawled into his lap, effectively straddling him in the chair, his concern faded to confusion. “Uh-whatcha doin?”
You rolled your eyes, realizing just how clueless your precious boyfriend was. “What do you think I’m doing?”
“Trying to get me to take a break?” Pete guessed, smiling when you nodded in response. “I guess I can spare a few minutes,” he teased, hands finally moving to rest on your hips, “wanna go get something to eat?”
You wondered how it was possible for someone to be so dumb, especially when said person had literal super-senses. In an effort to make your intentions even more clear, you leaned into his body and lightly rolled your hips against his, the tiny bit of friction eliciting a low noise from your lips.
That little moan seemed to be enough to at least kick his Spidey-senses into gear, his gaze darkening as he finally smelled the arousal building between your legs. You dragged your hips against his again, feeling the now growing bulge in his jeans. About time, you thought to yourself.
Peter didn’t waste any time upon realizing what you were actually after. He quickly lifted you as he stood from the chair, moving so he could lay you back down on his bed. “Fuck, why go out-” he sunk to his knees, caging his head between your legs, his fingers already toying with the waistband of your pajama shorts, “when I’ve got something to eat right here.”
You couldn’t hold in your laugh at the comment, though once he got your shorts off that laughter quickly faded into different sounds.
Oblivious as he may be, Peter Parker knows how to make a girl moan.
a/n - i had posted this on my other blog, but tumblr has decided to show my posts to absolutely no one and refuses to answer my emails asking for support so... new blog i guess? if you wanna read previous imagines for Peter that I've written check out spidey-stark, but I'll be posting on here from now on!
#peter parker imagine#peter parker blurb#peter parker headcanons#tasm peter parker imagine#tasm peter x reader#andrew!peter fanfiction#peter parker smut#andrew!peter smut#tasm smut#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#spiderman imagine#spiderman smut#spiderman fanfiction#tasm fanfiction#tasm fic#spiderman fic#mcu imagine
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reader pretending she (or they) doesn’t love peter back when he confesses because she is scared to lose him as a friend if they break up so after some angst and pining and avoiding feelings they end up together? ty!
main thing
(peter parker x reader)
summary : you're scared of losing peter as a friend by being more than friends with him.
contents : fluff, small angst ig, she they pronouns used!!! kind of short and rushed im so sorry but i love this concept a lot so thank you anon !!! 🫧🫧
a/n : im back!!!!! im really sorry if my writting is messy and stuff cuz i haven't been writing fics for months noww,, anyway i hope u like it 🫧☃️☁️ and a little rant here um i have this exact situation with a girl- i like her a lot and i knew she liked me back but i also happened to know that if we were to be together it will not last very long so we just ignore whatever is there between us. but don't worry lovelies r and peter's ending won't be like mine <3
. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
the hallway between classes were so full. crowded by students walking in eight cardinal directions. your head felt dizzy, it's like you're seeing everything underwater. your steps came to a halt when you were met with a row of lockers. palm against the cold metal as you gain back your stability.
peter must've seen you from the other side of the hall. frowning as he took in your state.
he walked over to you, cautiously. "you okay?"
you looked up to meet his eyes, immediately closing them back when the ceiling light hit your vision. "not feeling well."
peter placed his left palm over your cheek, rubbing them softly to soothe you. he didn't know if it helped but he smiled nevertheless when you nuzzled your face further into his hand.
you wanted peter to give you a hug, maybe his shoulder can be a good resting spot for your heavy head and his warmth can relax your muscles.
and of course. peter did. without you even asking.
"wanna go to the infirmary?" he asked softly, rubbing the side of your head as you completely lose all energy, so now he's the one that held you standing.
"mmh," you replied, not having the energy to form real words.
"alright then let's go," peter started to pull away but stopped midway when he felt you struggling.
"pete, i'm sorry i can't, i have to lay down," you whispered. so soft and low. if he weren't that close to you, he wouldn't hear it.
"that's alright, just slow steps," he encouraged.
he missed his class but he didn't care. he just wanted to be there with you. showing his affection because of his new slash old found love he has for you.
your migraine has not subsided at all the following day. you decided, for good, to skip class. there's no point in going to school when you're sick anyway right? you'll have ended up in a worse condition by the end of the day.
peter was searching for you left and right, he knew you were sick and he is worried sick about your whereabouts. he called you several times already but you never picked up.
when school finally finished, which for him was the longest six hours of his life, he immediately went to your house.
your mother was the one greeting him, saying that you're resting in the comfort of your bed. he went upstairs, after getting your mom's permission, and knocked on your door softly. "hey, it's me peter, can i come in?"
you gave him a very soft hum, thanks to his advanced hearing he can hear you just well.
you were lying on your bed, covered in tons of blankets. peter felt warmth rushing through his chest, seeing you like this. he approached you slowly and kneeled beside your bed.
"how are you feeling?" he asked ever so gently, hand on your shoulder with the blanket in between.
you peeked an eye open, your room was dimly lit, only your vanity lights were on. "better than yesterday," you answered, pushing yourself up slowly. "the migraine is not as bad as yesterday, my head is hurting- just a little."
"oh okay," peter replied. "do you need anything? i can bring you food or drink or water? do you need painkillers?"
you smiled, reaching for his hand, "i'm fine pete, just cold. can you turn up the ac please?"
peter did just that, jumping to his feet to take the remote.
after that you fell into a deep sleep again. peter was there the whole time. he was thinking about... stuff. stuff he wants to tell you.
he sat on your bed right beside your blanketed legs, his hands over them. he looked at you, your sleepy face, perfect hair, soft cheeks. you are his friend. best friend in the whole world. no one understands him like you did. just a few months ago he realised that his feelings may have grown.
it's not just a friendship kind of love but a lover kind of love.
he recalled the amount of time he had cried on your arms. laughed together with you. talk about embarrassing things he had done and had regretted. nobody knows him like you do. and peter would not let anybody know him like you do.
you're the only person that he can be vulnerable with. the only one that he can just be himself even if it's not the best. the only one he trusts.
"what are you thinking over there?" your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. he gave you a smile and you gave peter space for him to lie down.
"just thinking about thoughts... ?" peter answered but it's more like a question.
"thoughts about?"
"nothing."
"you know you can always tell me anything right? no matter what it is," you assured the boy.
"yeah..."
"so...?"
"you're sick right now, you should be resting," he said instead.
you sat up, stretching your muscles as you scrunched up your face. "i feel a whole lot better now... hey do you want some meal and we'll talk about whatever you are thinking about? cause by the look of your face, it's something that has been bothering you hm?."
peter thought about it for a while, but he really didn't have to. it was about time for him to tell you how he feels. he just hoped that you feel the same way.
your mom brought the two of you dinner to your room, you thanked her before she left and urged peter to eat. "pete?"
"yeah," he cleared his throat, "um i don't really know how to start this."
"it's okay, you can take as much time as you want, i'll be here," you said as you take a spoonful of the dinner.
that's also another thing about you that made his feelings even more clear. you never pushed him. always waiting for him to be ready.
"i like someone," he started. you stopped what you were doing and turn your focus fully on him. your heart felt like it has been crushed. "i know we never talk about y'know- this kind of stuff together but the thing is, i like her so much maybe i even love her, i don't know yet though cause i don't really know how love feels- but i sure do like her a lot."
"and does she know this?"
"no... but she knows now" peter answered, hoping that you'd get what he meant.
"what do you mean?"
peter sighed looking down at his lap, "well she's my best friend. my only friend actually. i really really want to be more than friends with them because she is everything to me. i smile every morning because i know i will see them later that day. i spent most of my time thinking about the two of us together. and you know just how worried i was when they didn't go to school because she was sick."
"peter-" you warned him.
"y/n, listen to me-"
"peter please don't," you whispered. you thought you would be jumping and giggling if peter ever confessed to you but instead it's the complete opposite. you don't want this. you can't have this no matter how much of you wanted him.
peter's eyes were brimming with emotion, shiny tears fighting their way not to roll down. "you don't feel the same do you?"
you wanted to say yes. yes you feel the same, you like him so much and that's what you're so worried about. "peter it's not that easy. we- we can't," you shook your head.
peter's brows knitted together, he was bitting the insides of his lower lip. "that's ok. i'll just go home now. i'm sorry for making things weird yeah? just forget everything i said. tomorrow is a new day." he forced a smile before he is out the door.
just like what peter has said 'tomorrow is a new day' so you acted like yesterday never happened. you walked into school, seeing peter by his locker. you smiled at him. "morning!"
"morning, y/n," peter said back, voice cracking.
"let's go to class," you suggested.
through out the day everything was just like how it used to be. you still sit besides each other. still eat lunch together. everything was the same... except that peter can't look at you for more than three seconds and you two don't talk as much anymore.
peter still walked you home, though there is no goodbye hug.
you wondered if you had made the wrong decision. what if you just accept your feelings and let peter in? but the thoughts of ever, god forbid, breaking up with him is what makes you back away from accepting his love.
you love peter so much. more than you can ever say. in a world of boys he's a gentleman. he proved so today. even after getting rejected and having his own heart torn into pieces, he still walked you home.
the next day though, peter seemed to be avoiding you.
you tried to come to him several times but he just gives you short replies. you couldn't blame him. he has every right to do so.
it has been two weeks since. you missed your peter so much. you missed his cheeky smile. his science jokes. his laugh that never fails to make you smile.
sure you can live without peter parker, but would it be as exciting? would you let the only person that knows you best slipped away like that just because you pretend to not return his feelings?
it was such an emotional rollercoaster. on one hand you want to wake up beside peter, but on the other you worried that he'll realize that he's better alone so you'd break up. you want to cuddle up next to him, but you fear he'll get sick of you and break up.
why does every intimate thought of him always ends up with breaking up?
you tried to bottle up your feeling until you can't anymore. so here you are now, knocking at his door.
he opened up, looking as tired as one can be. now that you really look at him, you notice his beautiful freckles that doted all over his nose and cheeks, his smile lines around his eyes, his pretty eyes that you love so much. even in his exhausted state he still looked so- so perfect.
"y/n? what're you doing here?" peter spoke.
"i want to talk to you." you mumbled, looking down at the pavement.
peter was silent. complete silence.
"i want to tell you that i do like you too, peter. i was just being dumb because you're my best friend for years and if we ever get together, what will happen when we break up? i don't want to lose you. so by pushing my feelings aside i can just continue like nothing happened... but i can't stop thinking about how i have hurt you. i completely denied and hurt your feelings and i can't forgive myself for that."
peter put a warm hand over your shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth.
"it's fine. if you don't want this then we don't have to." he said.
"but i want this."
"you do?"
"yes but-," you took a deep breath, "but what if we broke up?"
peter shook his head at that, "we haven't even got together yet and you're thinking of breaking up?"
"it's not funny."
"y/n look at me, i love you. i will not let that happen. and if you really think about it, what is there to be the reason of our break up?"
"i don't know something might come up."
"we know everything about each other, we understand each other. if there's something, i'm so so sure we can work it out," peter placed a hand on your cheek, forehead touching.
"really think so?"
"of course," he replied. "i'm also sorry for saying that so suddenly. i should've known better."
"it's okay peter, we're here."
"yeah we are, and we are not leaving each other yeah?"
"promise," you said.
#peter parker fluff#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#tasm x reader#tasm fluff#tasm fic#peter parker blurb#peter parker angst#peter parker imagine#peter parker fic
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peter parker is a bit of a loser skater boyfriend.
okay, he's not that much of a loser. he takes cool photos, he's good looking and he's done a skate grind on the campus staircase at least once.
and being spiderman is pretty cool too I guess.
but when he's around you, it seems like all the charm melts right off his body, and he's reduced to a nervous college student who's seemingly never interacted with a girl before.
he doesn't mean to, and neither do you, but you seem to bring out that side of him. the side that fails a skating trick every time you're looking. the side that makes him stumble over his words and almost forget his own name. the side that makes him run his hand through his hair until it sticks all over the place, and somehow he's not all that confident in his charisma and wit anymore.
and yet, every time, you offer him that sweet giggle that sends his heart into overdrive, that overtakes all his senses and makes him want to record it and listen to it on loop.
it makes him want to keep trying. until he gets the courage to finally ask you out.
#petermath#aster writes spiderman#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter fluff#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter x you#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!peter x y/n#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm peter#tasm fic#tasm peter parker#tasm spiderman#tasm!peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker imagine#tasm!peter parker fluff#tasm!peter parker fanfiction#andrew!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker x fem!reader#tasm!peter x fem!reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker x reader#peter parker fic#peter parker x fem
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For Inexperienced Smut Prompts
“I can’t believe you’re this innocent…”
With Andrew! Peter Parker x reader ❤️❤️❤️ !!!!!!
Not So Innocent || Inexperienced Smut Prompts
[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!virgin!reader]
Warnings: Alcohol use and depictions of being intoxicated, a lot of dry humping and fingering
A/N: I changed the quote just a tiny bit to “I didn’t know you were so innocent" because it fit better. Same vibes though.
You weren’t used to being dragged along to parties, especially one’s held in a large penthouse overlooking the city. The host of the party was a friend of a friend of a friend. At least, that’s what your roommate said. She desperately wanted to attend with her boyfriend but was too nervous to go without you. She promised to find you a date so you wouldn’t be third wheeling despite your claims that you’d rather not attend at all. Somehow she had managed to convince you to get dolled up in clothes that weren’t your own and make an appearance. You trailed behind her and her boyfriend as the three of you walked out onto the wrap around terrace.
The night air was warm and the sounds of the heavy bass booming out of the speakers reverberated inside your heart. You couldn’t even make out what music was playing; it was too loud. You scrunched up your face in distaste, fidgeting with the bottom of the short skirt of your dress, and pushing your way next to your friend.
“Is this really worth it?” You shouted over to her.
She either couldn’t hear you over the noise or was choosing to ignore you, “Look! Over there!”
She grabbed your hand and dragged you over to an elegant, glass table in the middle of the terrace. It was completely covered with different types of alcohol. You weren’t really educated well enough to be able to tell the difference between them all. She poured you something clear and shoved the cup into your hand.
“Drink this!” She practically forced you to tilt the cup to your lips and held her hand under the bottom while you drained the contents.
You were sputtering and gagging by the time it was finished, “That was horrible!””
“I know, it was pure vodka,” she laughed. “But it will get you loosened up.”
You felt like vomiting. She poured you something else.
Her boyfriend leaned between the two of you to point over at someone. “Matty is over there. Why don’t you go talk to him?”
You turned to see where he was pointing. Matt was the guy who was supposed to be your date tonight. He played college football with your roommate's boyfriend. You gave an unenthusiastic smile. That was supposed to be your cue to leave the two of them alone so they could enjoy their night as a couple. You weren’t sure what the point of your coming was. It wasn’t like your friend was planning on actually spending time with you.
You reluctantly made your way over to Matt and gave him an awkward wave, “You’re Matt, right?”
He nodded, “Yeah. My friend’s call me Matty, though.”
“Great,” you replied. You weren’t a friend so you thought you’d stick with Matt. “Uhm, nice to meet you, I guess.”
He looked you over, overtly eyeing up and down your body. You curled into yourself under his gaze and quickly started drinking whatever was in your cup. It tasted like bleach and lime. You did your very best not to make a face of disgust and keep drinking.
“You’re supposed to be my date then?” He asked.
“I guess,” you shuffled the toe of your foot against the ground. “Do you-”
He cut you off, “I was told you were really hot.”
You laughed at that. It was a self deprecating, uncomfortable laugh. He was already heavily intoxicated, swaying on his feet. You wanted to go home. The forced smile faded from your face as you turned your sights to look out over the city.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” you stated, feeling like shit.
Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him shrug, “Nah man. It’s cool. You’re still hot but, like, a prudish kind of hot. Like how the pastor’s daughter is always smokin’ hot but you know she’d never actually go down on you, so you don’t even try to bark up that tree, ‘cause it leads nowhere. Not really fuckable, ya feel me?”
You didn’t feel him. You felt insulted for some reason. As if being called unfuckable by a drunk stranger was the worst thing you could ever be called. Matt was clearly looking for one thing tonight. He wanted someone easy. He took one look at you, uncomfortable in your roommates clothes, and could instantly tell you weren’t that kind of girl. She could dress you up but she couldn’t change your personality. You were self-conscious and fidgety. Even this dumb jock could see that. Before you could reply, Matt’s attention got pulled away by a group of giggling girls throwing heart eyes at him. He didn’t say a word as he stumbled away, already forgetting your entire existence.
And, just like that, you were left alone at a party you didn’t want to be at.
You finished the drink in your hand despite wanting to gag every time it touched your lips. You were already starting to feel the effects of the two drinks. You had never drank in your life so it didn’t take much to make you feel funny. Your skin sort of felt tingly and your thoughts were slow and lazy. Even though you were left on your own, you felt a sudden rush of happiness pushing away the shame. The music was starting to sound less terrible, too. It made you want to dance. You were beginning to feel invincible. Confident. Matty could go fuck himself. You were totally fuckable. You were hot. This dress was super sexy and slutty and short and you were an absolute babe with it on. You could do anything you wanted. You felt like if you stood up on these rooftop railings and jumped, you would simply sore away into the sky like a bird.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”
A vaguely familiar voice popped up behind you before you had time to test your theory of flight.
You turned around to come face to face with Peter Parker. He was your lab partner for biology. You two usually only ever spoke about class related topics but it was still nice to see a familiar face. You always found him to be very sweet.
“I wouldn’t expect to see you here, either,” you responded with a big smile.
Peter laughed, “I guess us nerds don’t usually get invited to rich people’s rooftop parties.” Once the words left his mouth, his eyes widened, afraid that he offended you. He quickly added, “Not that I think you don’t belong here! Or that you’re a nerd. You’re very pretty. Not that nerds can’t be attractive. That’s just a dumb stereotype. I think you’re really smart and you have a nice smile and you look really pretty tonight. Not that you don’t look pretty other days. And not that it matters what you look like. Or…well…I mean…I don’t remember what I was originally talking about…I think I’m drunk.”
The crimson blushing over his cheeks was incredibly endearing. You found yourself leaning in closer. You knew he was always handsome but, tonight, he looked beautiful. Radiant. Mesmerizing.
You think you might be a little drunk, too. That first cup your friend made you chug was causing your thoughts to swim. The second cup only sealed the deal.
“Thank you!” It was all that needed to be said. Also, because you sort of forgot what he was saying, too. You got distracted by the way his lips formed each word. They were lovely lips to look at. “I think…”
His blush deepened and he hid behind the beer bottle in his hand as finished off the contents, “Do, uh, do you want to dance? With me, I mean. Or by yourself is fine too but I’d hope it was with me. That’s why I’m asking. For your hand. Not in marriage! To dance with.”
You weren’t a dancer but you didn’t think Peter was either. That made you feel more confident in accepting his offer.
“Okay,” you nodded, laughing at how he managed to out awkward you.
He took the cup from your hands and put it onto the first table he saw along with his own empty beer. Then, he took your hand and pulled you inside, onto the dance floor that had been set up in the living room cleared of furniture. The feeling of your hand in his, the way he easily maneuvered you through the crowd, sent an excited, pulsating electricity shooting up your spine. Peter found a nice spot off to the edge of the crowd. There, you two could still enjoy the energy without being trampled on by all the sweaty bodies.
An unspoken tension settled in the air between you and Peter. You were drawn to him. Captivated by him. You’d often spend the two hours of your lab huddled up close to his face while sharing a microscope but this felt different. Stronger. You couldn’t stop staring at the way his body moved. It might be the alcohol talking but he seemed to have a natural flow to his movements. You felt in sync with him. Your eyes shamelessly traveled down his body, much like Matt had done to you earlier. Only instead of feeling nervous like you had, Peter merely smirked, the smile flashing over his lips. Without his usual oversized sweatshirt, you could easily make out the strong muscles of his biceps as they pulled the sleeves of his t-shirt tight against his arms. You would have never guessed he was hiding those under there.
You got lost in the music, loving it a million times more than when you first entered the party. You were moving, swaying, and bouncing along to the beat. Peter was right there with you like he was reading your mind, or reading your body, able to anticipate which way you were swaying and following your lead. The rest of the party faded around you as your eyes locked with Peter’s. It was just the two of you and the unfamiliar sensual tension clouding the air, growing thicker with each passing second.
You were not a prude. You were not the preacher’s daughter. Matt could go fuck himself. He had no idea what you were like. All he did was take one look at you and thrust his own narrative on your shoulders. Yeah, maybe you were still a virgin, but you gave a guy a blow job. Once. In your senior year of high school. That qualifies you to be a part of a Non-Prude Club. Fucking Matty, that piece of shit. A big giant turd. That’s what he was. His brain had probably been hit one too many times during football anyway. You didn’t even think he was that attractive. Maybe he was the one who wasn’t fuckable? You bet he never thought of that!
Peter didn’t think you were a prude. He thought you were pretty and he wanted to dance with you. That means…well, it doesn’t mean much, but your vodka fueled brain was trying to connect some kind of dots together. Peter wanted to fuck you. That was probably it. Or maybe that was Matt who wanted to do that. Not Peter. You were getting them confused.
No, no, Matt didn’t want to fuck you. Or he did but he didn’t think you would let him.
And he was right. You wouldn’t have let him. He was kind of gross.
But, Peter…
“Am I fuckable?”
His eyes widened, “Excuse me?”
“What?” Did you say that out loud? Shit. “I didn’t say anything!”
His smile grew. He leaned down to speak directly into your ear, “Yes. You are.”
Heat flooded your face. Holy shit. A nervous, intoxicated laugh tumbled from your lips. The song changed to a new track and your eyes lit up.
“I know this one!” You excitedly bounced on the balls of your feet.
“Everyone knows Britney Spears,” Peter laughed at your enthusiasm as I’m a Slave 4 U blasted out the speakers.
Someone bumped into you from behind and sent you tumbling into Peter’s chest. He steadied you back onto your feet. Instead of moving away, you embraced the closeness, feeling bold, and wrapping your arms around his neck. His eyebrows raised, slightly taken off guard, but he quickly settled his hands comfortably around your waist. The electricity in the air heightened. You wanted Peter to touch you forever. There was not a single other person in this party except for him. You smiled up at him through hazy eyes.
“I never drank alcohol before tonight,” you confessed. Something in his eyes felt safe, like you could tell him all your secrets and he wouldn’t tell another soul. He would keep you safe. A protector. “I don’t think I’m too drunk, though. I think I’m just happy. I could still totally drive a car.”
That was a lie. You didn’t even have your license. It felt pointless when you grew up in the city.
Peter chuckled. It was a nice sound.
“I didn’t know you were so innocent,” he teased. “Never had a drop of anything before?”
You feigned a gasp at his comment, “I am not innocent! Why are people always assuming that about me tonight? What vibes am I giving off? My roommate told me these were some of her favorite slut clothes. Apparently they’re doing nothing to help my image.”
“Oh, trust me, they are,” He nodded with appreciation for her tight fitting outfit. Then added, “You’re at a happy drunk level. Me too…but that might just be because you’re here with me.”
Your stomach tumbled with excited butterflies. With Britney Spears cheering you on, you pushed your body closer, brushing against his. As you swayed to her hypnotic beat, you purposely rubbed your hips into his. The moment you made contact, you felt his arousal. Solid and hard against you.
You let out a tiny gasp, eyes widening in shock. You hadn’t been expecting that. That was because of you. You had given him that. You. Peter’s eyes had closed and his lips parted when you pushed against him. For a split second, it looked like he was going to let out a moan right there in front of everyone. His eyes shot open when he realized what was happening and a slew of slurred, bashful apologies tumbled out of him. Before he could get too embarrassed, you silenced him by repeating the movement. This time, locking eyes with him with a defiant stare, as you rubbed your pelvis over his erection as if you were daring him to stop you.
You would show him you weren’t innocent. You would prove him wrong.
He licked his steadily drying lips and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was completely speechless, utterly in awe. This was a new side of you, one you hadn’t even known existed before tonight. A horny, needy side. It only took him until the chorus to snap out of his stunned daze. His hands traveled up your sides, curving around your waist, then traveling back down. He hovered over your butt, watching your reaction to see if you’d object. When all he got a quiet smirk urging him on, his large hands cupped your cheeks. You could feel your dress riding up your thighs as he squeezed you, bunching up the fabric. He pressed you closer, holding you tightly against his erection. You tightented your grip around his neck, smooshing your breasts against his chest, and feeling the flood of wetness rush to your core.
I’m a slave for you. I cannot hold it, I cannot control it. I’m a slave for you. I won’t deny it, I’m not tryna hide it.
Britney was always right. You really were trying to have him dance up on you. You could not control it and you won’t deny it. Truer words had never been spoken.
You felt weak. A good kind of weak. Like your knees might give out at any moment and your head was spinning but everything felt wonderful. A happy drunk. That’s what Peter had called it. Or a horny drunk. Maybe both.
The more you held his gaze, the more attractive he became. You didn’t think that was possible but here you are. The flecks of sparkling light reflected off those beautiful hickory colored eyes. You were lost in them. Lost in his magnetic pull. His lips were centimeters from yours. He wanted to kiss you but he was letting you close the gap, giving you the choice. You took a shuddered breath and smashed your lips together. It might have been a little too eager and aggressive but Peter easily remedied your attack. He softened his lips and gently eased open your mouth with his tongue. The butterflies in your stomach turned to a frenzy at the feeling of his warm tongue gliding across yours. It reminded you of a dance. Much like your bodies were still pressed together and swaying to the music, your tongues were having their own party.
When your breath became short, you carefully pulled yourself back with a dazed smile.
Peter’s smile matched your own. The alcohol swam in vision, giving him adorable bleary eyes. He looked more relaxed than you had ever seen him.
“Have you had your fill of dancing?” He asked once the song ended.
You had forgotten you were even in a room full of people. You glanced around you, noticing Matt eyeing you from the other side of the room. He looked impressed, wondering if he had gotten the completely wrong impression of you. He raised his drink and winked in your direction as if to apologize for his own mistake. It made you giggle. You flipped him off with a smile.
You turned back to Peter, the smile still lingering on your face. You were enjoying the tension between the two of you. You liked the dangerous excitement of rubbing up on Peter in the midst of a crowd. You were afraid of the moment ending if you left but your head was spinning and you needed some fresh air.
“Let’s go back outside,” you offered. “The music is just as loud out there.”
Peter nodded in agreement. You had the feeling he would have gone anywhere you asked him to. He took your hand and tugged you towards the terrace. The entire glass wall opened up to make a seamless transition from the inside of the penthouse to the out. The night air felt cool in your throat. It helped soothe the pounding heartbeat in your chest. A coiled up excitement resided in the pit of your stomach from your adventures on the dancefloor. You wanted more.
Peter pushed his way to the corner. It was the one place the lights failed to reach. It felt like a very purposeful spot to bring you. He turned around, leaning against the railing, and studying you with burning, passion filled eyes. His gazed forced your own downward, like he was a blazing fire, too bright and hot to stare at for too long. Except now you were now looking directly at what had been pressed against you.
His dark, skinny jeans left little to the imagination. While the stiff material kept him from achieving his full potential, the bulging outline over his inner thigh was more than enough to get the idea of what he was working with. Truthfully, you had no idea what was considered large or small when it came to dicks. Like with alcohol, your knowledge was limited. But Peter looked quite big to you. He was clearly very excited to be in your presence. That was the nice thing about men. You could always tell when they were attracted to you. You were enjoying the power it made you feel. You felt sexy. Fuckable.
You had been staring at it for too long. You needed to avert your eyes back to his face.
When you finally forced your gaze back where it belonged, Peter was smirking at you. He had enjoyed watching you get lost in the sight. He liked knowing that his body was showing you how attractive he found you. He wanted you to know. It wasn’t a secret. Before you could allow yourself to be embarrassed, you twirled around, letting your skirt flare up around your thighs and started dancing again to the music. The perfect distraction. He caught you in his grasp, spinning you away from him, and then pulling you close. He was more suave than you gave him credit for. He might actually have some decent moves.
You turned around in his hold, leaning your back against his chest. Peter’s arms naturally snaked around your waist to hold you to him. He tightened the hold so your bottom was rubbing once more against his bulge as you lazily swayed back and forth. Your dancing was more of a gentle rubbing at this point but you didn’t mind. Whatever kept you locked to Peter was okay in your eyes. You wanted to keep him excited.
His face leaned down, his cheek brushing against your hair, and you heard him inhale the scent of light, floral perfume. You could have sworn you felt his bulge twitch. You had to refrain from squeezing your own thighs together at the thought. Tingly, hot sensations were flooding your core. The need to thrust your hips or rub yourself on something was becoming stronger.
You swore Peter could sense the subtle change in your breath because, as if he knew how aroused you were getting, his hands started to travel. They slid down your thighs until they reached the bottom of your dress, gliding the material through his fingers.
“I’ve never seen you wear a dress like this before,” he breathed, voice ragged, in your ear. “I like it.”
Your ears felt like they were burning, your chest was tight, your toes wanted to curl in your flats. All from the sound of his voice. Of course he had never seen you wear a dress like this. The only other time he saw you was in your early morning lab. He was used to your oversized cardigans, comfy leggings, and a permanent sleepy expression.
His hand slipped under the loose hem of the dress. He hesitated, testing the waters to see if you’d say something, when no objects came he glided over your underwear to rest on your bare hips. The back of your skirt lifted with his wrists to expose the bottom cheeks of your butt. You could feel him lean back enough to get a quick look. He seemed to like what he saw because he almost immediately ground his hips against you.
You couldn’t stop the gasping moan that fell from your lips. Your body felt alive. You could feel the jolt of electricity shoot from your nipples down to your clit. You pushed back, grinding your bottom into his erection. You had no idea what had gotten into you but you couldn’t stop. His obvious arousal only fueled your own spreading fire.
Even your nipples were painfully erect. Your friend had assured you that this dress had a built in bra and you wouldn’t need to wear one. That was a load of bullshit because it was obvious how hard your nipples were poking out. Your breath was becoming labored. You were in the middle of a rooftop party, actively grinding on your lab partner, and drunk on whatever the hell energy Peter was giving off. It wasn’t even the alcohol that was making you act like this. It was all Peter Parker.
You turned in his grasp, throwing your arms around his neck, and finding his lips. He fell back against the railing with your sudden enthusiasm. He managed to keep himself from falling and slid his leg between yours. Without even thinking about it, you rested your core against his thigh. The wetness seeping into your underwear was now blatantly evident to you. Give it a minute and Peter would surely become aware of it, too.
His hands roved hungrily over your body without any more hesitation. You opened your mouth, letting in his tongue, as he fervently attacked your lips. You angled your hips downward and thrust them against his jeans. Your aching clit screamed in pleasure at the delicious friction. Peter was back under your skirt and cupping your bottom. He helped push you along, easing the aid of you grinding against his thigh.
His mouth left yours to leave sloppy, wet kisses along your cheek and down your neck until he found a spot he liked. He suctioned his lips to a pulse point and began sucking and nipping at your soft skin. Your eyes rolled back, mouth parted, at how wonderful it felt. A mix of pain and pleasure. He was bruising your neck, claiming you as his own with a visible mark. You let him dominate you, manipulate you however he pleases. You were his. A slave for Peter Parker.
When he slowly pulled back from your neck, a trail of saliva connected your skin to his bottom lip. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the corner of his lips tugging into a satisfied smile as he admired his work. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your entire life.
“Do you need a break?” He whispered, his voice hardly heard above the obnoxious techno music now playing.
You swallowed. You probably should stop. You should probably slow down. You were getting too lost in your own feelings. But you shook your head “no”. You didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to have to pull yourself away from him.
“I told you,” you whispered back, resting your forehead against his. “I’m not innocent.”
“Are you sure about that?” He asked, the amusement coating his voice. “If I dragged you into the nearest coat closet right now, what would you do?”
You didn’t hesitate in your reply, lust dripping with every syllable, “I would let you touch me however you wanted.”
That was it.
Peter shoved his way past any person who stood in his way. He lead you through the crowd, swerving and weaving between sweaty bodies. The penthouse was huge. The first door he opened was the bathroom but it left too much probability of someone potentially needing to use it. The next was a guest bedroom. That one was already taken. The three people inside of it weren’t too pleased to see two more show up unannounced. The third was nearest to the elevator. It was a narrow, walk-in closet filled with fancy coats and shoes.
“Jackpot,” Peter muttered under his breath.
He pushed you inside and shut the door behind him. It was decently sound proofed in here with all the jackets. The music instantly muffled into the distance. You tugged on a gold chain hanging from the ceiling to flick on a single bulb. It wasn’t much light but it was enough. You turned to face Peter, the spell from outside starting to crack as the nerves set in. You might not have been entirely truthful when you told him you’d let him touch you however he wanted. The thought of losing your virginity in a closet wasn’t exactly how you envisioned it.
Peter’s smile softened when he caught the apprehensive glint in your eye. He reached out his hand and tugged you close to him as he leaned against the door, making sure no one could enter. He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Remember when I told you were fuckable earlier?” He asked.
You nodded.
“Well,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were nothing more than a quickie in a stranger’s closet. I hope it didn’t come off that way and that was the impression you got. This might have gotten a little out of hand. We might have gotten a bit carried away.” He took a step away from the door so you could leave if you wanted to. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you. I had enough fun tonight to last me a lifetime. Just being able to dance with you made my day.”
You gave him a light shove, pushing him back in front of the door to act as a human lock, taking back control, “I never said anything about leaving.” You took a deep breath, being brave, and trying to advocate for exactly what you wanted from him. “What I said still stands. You can touch me however you want but just with your hands. Okay?” You trailed a finger down his forearm, grazing over his wrist, and locking fingers with him. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you.”
His smile grew when you repeated his own sentiment back to him. To help build back up the same electric energy from outside, you pressed closer to him and grazed your breasts against his chest, letting him feel how erect your nipples were. He tenderly cupped your cheeks with his large hands and captured your lips with his.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time,” he mumbled against your lips. His kiss was slower than the other two like he was really savoring the moment. You felt special. Wanted. Beautiful and sexy all at the same time. The way he worshiped your lips made you feel like the only woman left in the world. Maybe you were. Maybe nothing existed outside of this closet. All that was left was you and Peter.
“Mmph,” was all you could manage back. Very articulate.
And, just like that, you were back under the Parker spell.
His hands made a slow descent away from your cheeks. They traveled down your neck, pausing for his long fingers to gently wrap around it, making you feel small inside his grasp. They brushed over your shoulders, toying with the thin straps to your dress, inching them to the side until they fell down the slope of your arm. The back of his fingers traced over the swell of your breast, letting the hard nub of your nipple feel every bump as he dragged each of his four fingers slowly over it. He was taking his time, carefully watching your every move and listening for every hitch of your breath. He was treating you like a precious piece of art that was meant to be admired and painstakingly inspected under a magnifying glass so as not to miss any precious details.
The pooling wetness between your thighs caused your soaked through underwear to cling uncomfortably to you. You wished you could remove them but still felt too nervous to make any moves and distract Peter from his work. You stood still as a statue, lids half closed, as he molded his hand to your breast. Your eyes gazed up at him, helpless under his touch, the sounds of your heavy breaths the only thing you were now able to hear.
A quiet moan whined in your throat when he pinched your nipple through your dress, capturing it between the knuckles of his middle and pointer finger. He shuddered at the sound, giving a sharp inhale. He wanted to hear it again. His free hand wrapped around your thigh to close the miniscule gap between your hips. He thrust his hips forward, rubbing himself against you, as he molded your breast in his hand.
“Can-” he breathed. “Can I?”
His fingers slipped into cups of your dress, starting to tug them down to imply what he was asking, and pausing to look to you for confirmation. You gave a silent nod.
Peter nearly stopped breathing as he tugged the top half of your dress down to reveal your naked breasts. His eyes were alive with flames while he took in the new sights. He tenderly cupped under your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, watching as your flesh melded to his touch. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was begging to capture your nipple between his lips, but he stuck to the “only hands” rule, using his thumb to flick over it instead.
Your hardly audible moans hit his ear. The sound must have awoken something in him because he responded to it with a whimper of his own. You glanced down to his crotch. His erection was thicker than before. It looked painfully locked up behind the confines of his jeans. You wanted to unleash it, let it be free, but you were too scared to take that leap.
Peter didn’t seem to care about what his cock was feeling. He was too focused on losing himself in your body. He was more of a giver and a taker, you could tell. His hand still gripping onto your hip started to get more daring. You felt him sliding closer to your core. His fingers traced over the elastic band of your underwear, circling around the tiny, ribbon bow adorning the top. If you had known this was how you would end up tonight, you would have bought something sexier. That concern immediately flew from your thoughts as his fingers slipped between your thighs. His palm rested over your mound while the pads of his finger tips traced along the drenched material. His ragged inhale was all you needed to know to understand how turned on that feeling made him.
“You’re so wet,” he growled in your ear.
“Mm,” you croaked out, eyes closed. Words were no longer something your brain had access to.
You bit your bottom lip the harder he pressed your panties against your slit. The thin cotton material was the only thing holding him back from entering you.
Peter lifted his other hand to brush under your chin. He lifted your head so you were forced to look up at him. You pried your eyes open, staring at him through heavy lids. Your mouth hung open to accommodate your panting breaths. He locked eyes with you, looking into your soul, as he slipped the wet fabric to the side.
You gave a silent, wide eyed cry when his finger grazed over your bare slit. Your stomach seized, nearly doubling you over, in excitement. You felt your folds open to his touch. His leg resting between yours nudged your ankle, telling you to spread your legs open a little wider for him. You clutched onto the front of his shirt, grabbing a fistful of it into your grasp. Without it, you felt like you might collapse. The look of lust etched into his features caused you to nearly orgasm on the spot. Your body was trembling, craving more, nodding your head as if that would make Peter work faster instead of slowly dragging everything out at a crawling pace.
He leaned down, whispering in your ear, “I’m going to make you cum for me.”
That nearly did it. You whimpered, letting your eyes close again. Peter tugged your underwear down your legs. They stopped at your knees, the width at which you were standing not allowing them to go any further. It was enough. His hand cupped between your thighs, rubbing you, teasing you. You grind your hips, thrusting your clit against his palm. He gave a soft chuckle, enjoying how desperate you had become.
“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he mumbled to himself.
His long fingers moved gently on you, caressing your wetness, feeling how easily they slid through the slickness you were creating for him. All for him. He continued to simply feel you until you gazed back up at him. He was waiting for your eye contact. Your heart was pounding, waiting for the inevitable, and surrendering yourself over to him. The moment you locked on, he eased his middle finger between your parted lips while his thumb brushed slow circles around your clit. It was the first time a man’s finger had ever touched your sex. You felt the pressure, felt the fear, felt the excitement and the slight searing of pain at how tight you were. You whined as the pain and pleasure mixed to create an intense, swirling storm deep in your sex. Your pussy felt like it was sucking him in, trying to eat him whole, the deeper he sank into you.
You clung to the front of his shirt, balled up fists, and tears spiking in your eyes. It felt so good. More intense than anything you’d ever felt. You’d touched yourself before but Peter was different. Better. You were sharing the moment, giving up control, and letting someone else learn the intimate details of your body. Your legs were shaking. Your knees felt weak.
You buried your head into Peter’s neck as he started a steady, slow rhythm of easing his finger half way in and out of you. He focused most of his attention on servicing your throbbing clit. He could tell you were a virgin, he could tell how tight you were squeezing him, and he wanted to go as slow as possible so as not to hurt you. Even a single finger felt like it was filling you up. You were moaning against his neck, whimpering, whining, beginning for more. Your hips worked with each small thrust of his finger, trying to push it deeper. You thrust your clit against his thumb. Your body was taking over as you tumbled towards a climax.
Peter’s lips were pressed against your ear. He whispered quiet words of encouragement, urging you on, praising you, comforting you. The night was all starting to meld together. The slutty dress, vodka, the obnoxiously loud music, how easily Matt rejected you with nothing more than a few words, finding Peter, dancing together, Britney Spears, the passionate terrace make out, the closet and how sweet Peter had been to quell your obvious fears, the way his finger felt so big inside of you. The entire night was swirling around your thoughts. A tornado building inside your brain. Ready to wipe out anything it touched.
“That’s it,” Peter whispered over your pathetic whines. “There you go. Cum for me. You’re right there. Let it go. Let it happen.”
You gave a sharp cry as light exploded in your vision. The tornado tore straight through you, ripping your mind from your body. You were floating in the air. High above everything else. You had no control of the way your body jerked and spasmed, held tightly against Peter’s chest. You’d never experienced an orgasm this powerful. It would have brought you straight to your knees had Peter not been holding you upright.
He wrapped his arms around you, tracing his fingers over your back and up your neck. He soothed you with a quiet humming until your mind came crashing back down to earth. You were shaking, shivering, eyes glued closed. Peter was your one tether to cling on to. He kept you grounded as you let the tornado fade off into the distance.
When you finally managed to get your bearings once more, you took a shaky step back from him. He kept his arms outstretched in case he needed to suddenly catch you if you decided to crumble. You shrugged the straps of your dress back up and adjusted the chest so your breasts were back to being concealed.
Peter had given you a gift you didn’t even know you were looking for. You wanted to repay the favor but you didn’t think your body could handle anything more tonight. Instead, you slipped the underwear still clinging around your knees down to your ankles. You carefully stepped out of them. He watched in a silent curiosity as you closed the gap between you two, stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans.
“To give you something to remember me by,” you stood on your tippy toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. A sweet, innocent kiss.
He looked at you with an awe, loved filled gaze as you pushed open the closet door and stumbled into the hallway.
When he didn’t follow, you glanced over your shoulder with a sly smirk, “Well? Are you coming?”
#tasm x reader#peter parker x reader#tasm#the amazing spiderman#peter parker#tasm peter parker#tasm peter#tasm peter x reader#tasm peter smut#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker smut#andrew garfield#spiderman#tasm fic#peter parker fic#blooming violets#blooming violets fic#not so innocent
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CONGRATS ON 600!!!
could i get some 🪸 tutor!spiderman x reader?
self indulgent bc i really need a chem tutor
friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff
join the celebration
tutor!peter parker x tutee!fem!reader, 0.5k words
Peter was staring at you expectantly, his eyes trained on your fingers which were tapping against the wood of the table. “Sorry, what did you say?” You smiled at him sheepishly.
He heaved an exasperated sigh, but his eyes were soft. “What’s an atomic number?”
You blinked at him. “Pete, I’m not four. I know what an atomic number is,” you added, crossing your arms on your chest. He gave you an impatient look. “It’s the number of protons,” you said confidently.
Your tutor gave you a proud grin. “Good girl,” he murmured, and you felt a strange warmth spreading across your chest. He flipped the next flashcard over. “Okay, then, what’s the general formula for an alkane?”
You gave him a blank look. “Um,” you stuttered, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “Is it H₂ₙ₊₂?” Your voice was suddenly uncharacteristically quiet as you picked at this skin of your thighs, so hard it almost drew blood.
Peter smiled softly. “Close,” he reassured you, and you returned the smile, barely noticeable. “It’s CₙH₂ₙ₊₂,” he corrected you, and you scribbled down his comment in your notebook.
“Sorry,” you whispered. When you did, his eyebrows furrowed, a worried expression on his face. “I hate this. I’m sorry, you can leave, Pete, I don’t want you to waste your time. I’ll just figure it out on my own.”
Peter frowned, turning the corner of his lips down. He pulled your chair closer to his, then extended his arms for you to fall into. “I’m sorry I’m so stupid,” you mumbled, head pressed into his chest.
He cupped your head, adjusting his position to make you more comfortable. “Angel,” he crooned, and you blushed at the nickname, “you’re not stupid, okay? Don’t ever tell yourself that. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”
Your voice was muffled when you spoke. “I’m not smart like you,” you whispered, and the sadness he heard in your voice made his heart crack in half.
“Bub, I certainly do not deserve the pedestal you’ve put me on,” he murmured back, and you let out a wet giggle. “You’re smart. Smarter than me, I think. I wouldn’t tell you that otherwise.” He paused for a second, making sure you were listening. “Just because you aren’t as great at one subject doesn’t mean you’re not intelligent. You get that, right?”
You nodded, pulling away to wipe at your eyes hastily. You abandoned the motion when Peter did it himself. His hand stayed cupping your cheek, his eyes filled with nothing except care and concern for you.
When you leaned forward, he couldn’t help it, and he pressed his lips to yours. It only lasted a second, but he thought it was the best kiss of his life. When you finally pulled away to catch your breath, he leaned his forehead against yours, a wide grin on his lips that was mirrored on yours. “Sorry,” he said. “I just really wanted to kiss you.”
You blushed. “No apologies necessary.”
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