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Your Friendly Neighborhood Sensitive Spider [TASM!Peter Parker]

Summary : Peter's senses are really easily overwhelmed. He always finds comfort in you. This time you're the reason of his sensitivity.

Pairing : TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warning : 18+ ONLY, Minors DNI, smut, pure smut really, i can barely remember the plot, it's just filth, creampie, heats basically ??, primal kink, dark undertones, dub-con kinda, pet names (bunny), handjob, pussyjob, face sitting, cumplay, masturbation kinda, unprotected sex, rough sex, overstimulation of both peter and reader, manhandling of reader (peter basically doesn't stop fucking her), overwhelmed/oversensitive peter, titty worshipping (a teenie tiny bit), a lot of cum omg ?? genuinely, this is pure fucking smut, only that, kinda very precise description of physical features and sexual events ?? idk, please avoid at all costs if you think you might be triggered by any of these topics or the fic

A/N : did i write 10k plus words of smut ?? maybe... enjoy this because school is starting again and i bitch decided to pursue an education instead of running away in the wild

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Peter had always been very awkward with people and human interactions in general. It all came from his very good capacity to figure people out by simply looking at them. He was an incredible judge of character even before the spider bite and after that, it all turned into something else. That awkwardness of his had been turned into sensitivity, or even oversensitivity. He was easily stimulated by sounds, movements or smells and he had to learn how to live all over again.

Adaptation had been difficult at first but quickly he found tricks to work around life as discreetly as he could. One of these was you. You were the most efficient thing he ever came across when it came to calming his sensitive senses.

When he met you he’d could vividly remember having a terrible migraine because of the violence of all the noises around him. He had retreated to a secluded room, in an abandoned building on campus. He used it regularly to hide and was surprised to see someone in the room, you. You were sleeping on your bag and he wanted to leave but when he focused a little more, he was surprised to not hear a thing. He couldn’t hear the noises around except the sound of your soft breathing sounds.

He was absolutely flabbergasted, so much so that he rushed to you and kneeled in front of you to make sure he wasn’t going crazy. He even checked your pulse for you, completely ignoring your boundaries or personal space in the process, but making sure you were alive at least or not doing something to his brain. Weirdly enough, you had woken up a little surprised but not worried by the tall man looking frantically over you.

When you asked if he was okay, he leaped backwards. The whole move was very strange and when he thought about it, it was no wonder you’d guessed he was Spiderman. You had this effect on him, this hold on his senses and his mind, you just made it all so calm and effortless. He felt like he was seating on a cloud with soft satin pillows, heavy comforters and your soft legs wrapped around his waist. This was his happy place and every time he thought about it, he thanked his heightened senses for granting him the ability to feel it as if it was currently happening. He could feel the heat of your thighs on his palms, the scent of your collarbones and your soft and supple breasts serving as pillows for his face. You were his peace.

You made him feel so good, his entire body went numb to a point of losing the ability to think rationally. He remembered the things he would do when you two had become friends. Some random guy would scream and he’d start playing with your fingers. He’d be walking with you and a gust if wind would blow, his first instinct was to pull you towards him to have a little bit of your body heat. The sunlight would be too bright sometimes, he’d hide his face in the crook of your neck.

You’d grown use to it overtime, welcoming him with open arms. You had been able to understand the things that triggered him and would sooth his at the best of your capacities. Your favorite thing to do was bring his head to your shoulder and caress his hair softly while shushing him in a low voice. The low sounds brought him comfort and managed to drown everything around. You didn’t understand how but science wasn’t your things so you didn’t try to figure it out.

~

Peter’s need to physically feel you to be generally okay and able to go through his day without being the absolute worst often expressed in surprising ways. These ways you discovered them slowly, each and everyone of them slowly revealing themselves at the most random moments possible.

Again, you’d guessed he was Spiderman because this need to feel you prevailed over common sense. It happened on a Thursday night, you’d been writing an essay for one of your classes when you noticed the shadow of a figure in the distance. When you turned around, it quickly hid behind a wall. Now, the red fingertips and the fact that you lived on the fourteenth floor told you who it was very easily. You were no stranger to Spiderman and his weird way of appearing everywhere you were, but having him in front of your window was very new. Paying more attention to his physical shape, it was very familiar to you. Too familiar. You didn’t even think before pulling on his hand and bringing him towards you with a surprised expression mixed with a smile.

The moment you uttered his name, he wrapped you in his arms, falling on your floor and rolling around. He ripped his mask off and rubbed his nose on the crown of your head, inhaling your scent. He refused to lie to you, probably because he was incapable of doing so, and honestly, you already knew so he saw no point in fighting the truth. That night you stayed on the floor for a few hours before snuggling under your covers, still tangled in each other.

Now, to go back on topic, Peter Parker was one sensitive man just like he could find relief in you, you could also make it ten times worse for him at times. In these situations, you were the main trigger to his sensitivity and that he figured it out on one of the most random days of his life. On that fateful day he felt like he would die if he didn’t fuck you raw.

~

This had to be the worst fucking day possible to have superpowers. Genuinely, he was ready to trade body with whoever would be up for it. From the moment he woke up, he felt like his skin was burning all over. Covered in sweat and twisting uselessly, in hope of finding a little bit of peace and cold, he moaned out your name, begging for you to suddenly appear and save him.

"I... Fuck... I need my bunny... Where is she...?" He groaned, rolling around and searching you.

He’d managed to pull himself together just enough to get up and get ready but getting ready had been exhausting, his entire body feeling heavy and still burning as if he hadn’t spent twenty minutes under the most freezing shower ever. While on his way to the train station, he noticed that his senses seemed to be dulled, the sewer stench common to the streets of New York weirdly absent. His vision was blurry enough for him to need his glasses, he was hearing everything but it sounded like he was wearing earplugs and everything he touched felt sticky but distance. He was practically certain to be hallucinating half the things he thought he had touched.

Looking up from the floor, his head to heavy to be raised, he was attacked by something so familiar and good. The comfort he craved on a regular and specifically today. There you were, as beautiful as ever, your headphones wrapped around your head and your eyes looking off to the distance.

"Bunny..." He said softly, immediately feeling better.

He was pretty far from you, far enough to not usually be able to smell you but today he could. So distinctly, he felt dizzy the moment he took a big gulp of air. He could distinguish it all, separating each of the different things resulting in the most addictive smell he’s ever smelled in his life. The citrus from your body soap, the tropical fruits from your hair creams, the vanilla from your perfume, all of it was so vivid, attacking his nostrils and pulling him with force towards you.

He was like a lifeless being, incapable of thinking or seeing anything around him. He was surprised he didn’t fall or push anyone, skillfully dodging everyone around. He looked weird but clearly right now, it didn’t fucking matter, he needed to get to you. When he did, he couldn’t even speak, he simply grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him. He cradled your soft cheek, the warmth of your skin spreading against his palm.

His vision wasn’t blurry anymore, he could see very well, better than ever actually. He could also hear everything perfectly fine, most of everything being you and the sound of your heart beating, your breath speeding up or your blood rushing around your body. He could hear all of this vividly, all of you, alive and looking at him with that deadly smile of yours. He was crumbling, slowly sinking inside himself because of you. You were killing him, with your entire being and that he loved it. He’d never get enough if it.

"Fuck... Bunny, my bunny..."

He seemed to not give a flying fuck about the fact that they were outside, in public, in broad daylight and pulled you in for a desperate kiss. His lips covered yours in a matter of second, folding and molding around the shape of your mouth and sucking in the sweet taste of you. Shoving his tongue in your mouth, he held onto your jaw tight, forcing it open wide for him to invade you further.

You small hands were gripping on his shirt, trying to push him away slightly but failing miserably because you wanted him too. You always did anyways but you knew when was the time. The Peter kissing you right now, was scouring through your mouth, looking for you to fill his ears with those delicious sounds that only you could make. You knew what he wanted, he was moaning and groaning in your mouth and you could feel disapproving looks on your. You did what was best for you and your dignity, biting his tongue enough to hurt but not too much.

"F-Fuck ! Why ?! Need you bunny..." He whined, reaching towards your lips again but being stopped in his track.

"I know baby, but you can't just swallow my face in public... I promise I'll take care of you later."

When he groaned in displeasure, whining lowly before diving towards your lips again, you had to stop him dead in his track, laying a hand flat on his chest in a commending motion. He looked at you straight in the eyes and you noticed how far gone he was. It’s like he wasn’t there all together. He often got like that after sex but you a simple (not so simply, really) had him desperately needing you in the middle of the street. Something was clearly off but you would wait it out, maybe he would be back to normal in a few.

~

He was, in fact, not back to normal in a few. It actually got worst, way worse. By the end of the day, he felt like he was ready to pass out. His entire body was on fire, burning as if drenched in lava and he could barely move. He swung home because it would be faster but practically died hitting a few too many windows on the way. The moment he saw his apartment, he thanked his past self for keeping the window open and threw himself on his floor.

It felt cold and so comforting, he rolled himself around for as long as he could. Quickly, his long body covered his floor in heat and it became unbearable to deal with too. He threw his bag on his bed, completely ignoring the possible state of his laptop and other things. He let his cheek rest on the surface and let his body relax, feeling completely numb but a little better. The reoccurring memories of the day and the state he was in were playing in his mind. For the first time, you weren’t relief, you were the problem.

He had thought that his minor episode this morning, would be temporary and quickly dealt with. It was not. It increasingly got worst, his senses focusing entirely on you. He suffered through long hours of lectures, your scent sticking to his clothes and drowning him in need. He felt like you were everywhere on his, multiple versions of you clinging to his skin and whispering sweet and sultry words into his ear. He couldn’t feel you, skin hot and covered in this warm glow that broke him apart. He could barely see anything, the image of your sunkissed skin shining so bright he felt like he was floating around the sun. You were the sun to him anyways so it wasn’t too far from the truth.

It was like you were a siren, singing your best song to him, bringing him to his knees, ready to run away to the farthest corner of a forest and worship you for as long as you’d allow him near you. You were like an oasis in the hottest dessert there was, draining his life force. God, he was so fucking far gone, he could barely remember his name before yours.

“Pete ? You okay baby ?”

Jolting awake, he frantically looked around when your voice resonated in his head. He let out the neediest whine of pleasure mixed with happiness when he saw your gorgeous face come in view. There you were, looking down on him with worried eyes. He reached up, grazing his fingers on your cheek, nose and then lips softly. Parting them with his thumb, he shuddered when your breath hit his skin. You looked at him with sweet innocent eyes and he thought that would kill him but when you moaned through a whisper, practically inaudible to the average ear but not his, he jumped back, away from you.

He covered his face with his hands, muffling a scream that hid a desperate moan. What the actual fuck was going on with him ?! What was his fucking problem that he had to run away from you because touching your lips drove him crazy ?! He had to be mentally broken or something cause he felt his cock harden and violently twitch in his pants. Starting to breath heavily, he looked around his room for clothes to wear, he needed to change. Anything but fucking jeans honestly.

Reaching for them, he rips them away from his laundry basket with a hoodie to go with it before running to his bathroom and locking himself in. He let out a heavy breath, shivering in comfort at the feeling of the cold tiles under him. He delicately started to peel off his clothes, quickly coming to the realization that each time he brushed against his skin, he’d moan like a fucking idiot. He could feel your fucking scent on them and it’s like his clothes were begging to stick to his skin. He was going absolutely fucking crazy, last time this kind of shit happened, he’d been bitten by a radioactive spider specifically designed to give him superpowers. Maybe he had been bitten by another spider without noticing, that would be pretty logical considering the fact that the only thing he truly fully focused on here was you. Maybe the spider liked you as much as he did.

Once he’d finally managed to get rid of his clothes without moaning too loud, preventing you from hearing him, he sat on his floor, panting loudly, cheeks red and hips moving on their own. He could see the stain of his sensitive cock, dripping cum on the fabric of his boxers. Looking down towards the pulsating bulge, he could practically see your fingers wrapping around him and he instantly winced in both pain and pleasure at the thought. He cupped his thick girth and rubbed it against his warm palm, begging for it to go back down. He was moaning at each of the heavy rubs he’d leave on himself, your name sounding more and more like a plea than anything else. He was begging for you, cursing himself for not feeling so conflicted. He was ashamed of himself, red in embarrassment at his own actions but also feeling deprived and needy for more.

When he felt his hot cum spill out of his cock and cover his boxers, he let out a sigh of relief, eyes crossing at the wave of pleasure spreading through him. He let it all sink in, taking time to relax a little bit before going back out there.

“Peter ? You okay in there ? Do you need my help ?”

He snapped his head towards the door, his relaxation dissipating quickly and being replaced by his previous mood. He was back to square one, needy and pulsating in his pants like a fucking teenager, at the simple sound of your sweet, sweet, sweet angel like voice. You wanted to help, because you were that good, perfect even. A perfect, perfect girl for an imperfect boy who was being crushed under the weight of his heightened senses and the rough consequences they had on his sex drive.

You could help. You could save him even, oh that you could. You and those sweet lips of yours, you could help him greatly. You just needed to get on your knees and let him fuck your throat so hard, you’d feel your own vocal cords move against the tip of his cock. Or did he want to fuck that sweet velvety pussy of yours with his tongue ? Yes he did. He wanted to taste your insides, attach his tongue to your walls and engrave that honey taste in his head. He wanted to bury himself in you too, oh god he wanted that. He wanted to burn your feel on him, god he was ready to carve your name in his skin. It would heal but he wanted you wrapped around him, he wanted to be absorbed by you, completely nestled in your body, in your DNA.

He was fucking insane, completely off his rockers. He needed therapy and a shit load of medication clearly. Maybe a mental institution too, maybe that would fix him, if he could be fixed. If he wanted to be fixed. He was obsessed with you, his body craving your entire existence like an asthmatic would crave air. He was absolutely gone, lost in the ocean that you were, so wide and big and tempting. As anyone ever wanted to drown ? Because he did, he wanted to drown in you.

Quickly shuffling around to get rid of his boxers and slipping in the sweatpants, he opened the door to be faced by your worried face. He gave you his best smile (he looked absolutely fucking crazy) before swerving around you, trying to avoid touching you or breathing in your scent. He’d need to take extra precautions to not let you see through his desperation to fuck you.

~

As soon as he started his little scheme to appear normal in front of you, he was attacked by a new wave of arousal, heat burning him from the inside and jumping out of his body like a violent beast. Looking at you, smelling you, hearing you, all of this was tickling the salacious thoughts in his mind. They were bringing those images lf your naked body rubbing against his to life.

Come on Peter…

Don’t you want to play with me ? My pussy missed you so much.

Felt so empty without you and your cum Pete…

Please baby… Please, suffocate me… I want your cock in my throat…

Peter… Please love, look at my tits… All pretty and lonely, they need you…

I need you… Don’t you need me Peter ?

God, fuck… Yes he did ! Yes he needed you ! More than anything ! He couldn’t express the visceral need he had to scream than he needed you at the top of his lungs. He was ready to lose his voice and vocal cords to say that he needed you wrapped around him. He wanted to feel you all over, be in you skin, invade your every cell.

Thinking like a beast in heat, he couldn’t handle the additional feelings invading him when he noticed that he could feel your arousal. He didn’t know where it came from and honestly, he couldn’t care less. All he knew was that he was smelling the sweet scent of your leaking pussy and he was very close to jumping on you and feasting on your wet folds until he quenched his thirst. He was desperate, for release, he needed you to heal him, save him from his misery.

Rubbing his long body on the mattress, praying for a little friction to free him from his torture, he whined when his skin brushed against yours. Your exposed thighs, soft against the back of his hand, he could feel the heat of your body on his. That heat, he could recognize it anywhere, it was even frightening how he found himself seeking it. Burning hot like lava and turning his entire being into a pile of ash, you were like a volcano. That heat, he couldn’t get used to it, he was responsible for it, that lust pumping through his veins every time you touched you. You were needy for him but you could contain yourself. Now he couldn’t.

Laying his heavy head on your exposed thighs, he rubbed his nose on your flesh, inhaling the scent of your core and drinking it the aroma he could taste on his tongue. His mouth was watering at the thought of your drenched folds coating his lips and entire face. He wanted you to sit on his face, right now.

He distanced himself, practically falling off the bed and ripping his sweatshirt off before throwing it in a corner if the room. That was probably a stupid move on his part because he was now shirtless, erection in full view for you to see and fawn over. You always enjoyed the whole gray sweatpants thingy but never that much until Peter. With him it was a whole different story, no amount of boxers would be able to hide what he had to offer and clearly he opted for the no boxers alternative.

Biting your lip, you hoped he couldn’t see how drenched your panties were already. You were a terrible person maybe. Your boyfriend was in pain, suffering from an unknown illness and needed as much comfort as he could get but you still found time to drool over his barely covered body. You were, indeed, a terrible person.

Looking at him with an amused smile, you slid your hand in his hair, scratching his scalp and soothing his inner turmoil a little. He couldn’t understand what was going on and he didn’t feel like it right now, you could feel that. You knew he needed you but you didn’t want to press him, you wanted him to come to you. And seeing how touchy he was being, you knew you wouldn’t wait long. You jumped slightly when he violently ripped himself away from you to crawl to a corner in the room.

“Oh my fucking God ! Peter are you okay ?! Do you need me to call somebody ?! Maybe Gwen, she has medical or scientific expertise !” You blabbered, panicking at his sudden actions

“No ! Please no ! Do not call… Call anyone… I’m g-good…” He begged, eyes screwed shut and trying to peal his clothes off as if the were his skin.

He threw his head back, resting it against the wall and spreading his legs wide. He couldn’t move anymore, he was breathless, horny and exhausted. If he moved, he felt like he was in a burning shower the water sucking out every drop of water in his body. He was desperate now, or at least more than he was before. He couldn’t handle this sudden new development in his body. He didn’t care if it meant he was dying or something, he just wanted help.

You got closer to him, placing yourself between his legs and laying a hand on his thighs while the other cupped his cheek tenderly. You were worried, hell probably more than simply worried. He could feel it, and he could feel your throbbing cunt from where he was. It was as if your body was vibrating at a frequency that only him could feel and it was torturing him. You were like a siren screaming in his ears to tell him that you needed him to fuck you badly. He who found comfort in you most of the time was being tortured by you too at the moment. The irony of the situation was very unpleasant.

“Baby, please… Tell me what you need... I can’t stand watching you get all weird and sickly without being able to help… I’m not the best scientist but I got Google for that… Please let me help.” You pleaded with that deadly sweet voice. He was being physically suffocated by the honey that your voice was, drowned like a bee that got too close to Paradise.

Looking at you, his brain suddenly shut off completely, the fight against insanity lost miserably. He fought long and hard but clearly, this enemy was too strong, the enemy was you after all. He looked down at the prominent bulge showing through his sweats, if we could call this a bulge. He couldn’t distinctly see the shape of his girth through the fabric, practically begging to come out. He hissed, almost painfully, at the vibrations of his member, looking up to your sweet face in awe.

He was practically crying for help, anything to calm him down. He was conflicted, wanting you close but knowing that it would only make him feel worse. He retreated further in the corner, wrapping his body in his arms and blinking back the weird haze he was in. His breath was loud and short. It sounded strained and come out with difficulty, as if breathing made him suffer. And it did, every breath he took, carrying with it the memory of what you tasted like. He could feel your taste in his mouth when he breathed and it would rush down straight to his cock every time.

“P-Please… Please I can’t… I can’t do this a-anymore… I can’t stand it…” He cried softly. Your worry skyrocketed and you tried to get closer to hug him tight but he jerked, rejecting your hands on him. “I… I need… I need you to leave… Or to just… J-Just let me fuck you… I promise I’ll be good, and I’ll clean you up after but please… Choose for me…”

You looked at him with loving eyes, the worry dissipating and allowing you to nod slowly towards the option he was silently begging for you to pick. Letting his body move on its own, his large hands slid under the hem of your skirt, taking two handfuls of your ass and hoisting you up effortlessly. You yelped, your hands shooting up to his shoulders as he sat you on his lap, carefully positioning your core over the wet patch formed by the tip of his cock. He bit the inside of his mouth, keeping his own needy moans to himself as his started grinding against you.

“P-Pet-“ He was quick to shut you up, two of his fingers finding refuge in your hot mouth, pressing down on your tongue.

“Don’t… Don’t fucking say a word…” He groaned, looking attentively at your bodies moving in sync. “Fuck… Do… Do you have any idea of how much I wanted my cock stuffed in that pretty pussy of yours today…? I barely got though the fucking day, thinking I was going fucking crazy… Never been so fucking sensitive before, fuck…”

His free hand grabbed your waist, holding it tightly and pushing you down harder. He couldn’t feel the pulsating of your folds on his bulbous tip, body your centers, leaking and wiping over the other. He should’ve been ashamed by the wet patch on his joggers but he was too busy focusing on the thought of you riding him while he kept his mouth stuffed with your panties.

He groaned in pleasure, a little louder than he was already doing, when he felt your soft fingertips on his wrists, wrapping tight around it to pull your fingers out of your mouth. He looked up at your face and felt his body melt under your gaze, eyes soft and loving but also sharing pure lust and pleasure. He couldn’t see them try there hardest to not cross in pleasure, something you did that absolutely drive him crazy.

Whining into the palm of his hand, you licked the tip of his digits sensually before diving them low against your body. You ‘et go of his wrist to let him do what he wanted, simply lifting your skirt to show what he’d been truly looking for.

“Oh fuck…” He exhaled, looking down at you as if you’d shown him the Holy Grail. His fingers slid under the elastic of your panties slowly before ripping them off of your body in one singular motion. Caressing your exposed hips and your uncovered ass, his fingers dove down on your folds, sliding in between the flesh and stroking his fingers back and forth. You threw your head back in pleasure, his thumb rolling around your pulsating clit.

He was absolutely mesmerized, practically forgetting everything around him. His fingers were drinking in the sensation of your juices coating his fingers. His senses were on alert but not for danger, for more of you. The needed to feel you all over, to have you wrapped nicely around him, sucking out every drop of energy and possibly life even. He was ready to give his life force to you at this exact moment. Was he okay ? Probably not. Did he really care ? Absolutely not.

Raising you up once again, he threw you over his shoulder, inhaling the scent of your wetness coating your inner thighs. His fingers were quick to come play with your exposed mound, gathering your slick and licking it off of his fingers. He walked, painfully hard erection visible through his sweatpants still and ready to be tended to. That would need to wait, for now, Peter needed to do something first, he’d been thinking about it for too long to simply ignore it.

Laying you on the mattress, on your back, you watched attentively, finally able to fully see his face. He looked absolutely magnificent even when the exhaustion was clear on his features. His lips, red and plump, were parted, air coming out in heavy breaths while he tried to focus. His face was flushed, red and sweaty, he tried to calm himself down, you could feel it. He was battling with his needs.

When you reached up to him, he pulled you forward by the wrist, forcing your chest against his as he hungrily kissed you. Your lips tasting like sweet, fresh berries, he bit on your flesh and swallowed the surprised moans coming out of you. How could you not be surprised when the man you loved was practically swallowing your face, ripping the literal oxygen out of your lungs ? You couldn’t, not when he was acting as if the universe had deprived him of you.

His hand slid down your back, pushing you against his chest and pressing his lips further against yours. His tongue, warm and wet, was diving deep in your mouth, licking as far as he could reach and sucking in your delicious taste.

He was overwhelmed by the sensations he was feeling and the ones you were feeling. He could feel it all, everything was ten times worst than usual, everything was enhanced. His senses were being drowned by your intoxicating scent, your sweet taste, the soft feeling of your skin and the siren like sound of your voice. All of you was pushing him down a cliff, hell, he was jumping down himself, willingly and expecting the result eagerly.

“P-Peter… Peter wait… C-Can’t…” You moaned in his mouth, trying to pry him away from you, loosing air fast. He didn’t let up, taking your jaw in hand and keeping you close to him until he felt you truly loose air.

“Sorry…” He apologized without really meaning it. He was staring at your lips and probably wanted more of them but you were panting hard, trying to catch your breath in his arms.

Ignoring you, his kept himself busy by rubbing his nose against the veins of your neck. His nose, inhaled that specific smell that only you had, trying to engrave it into his senses.

Suddenly straightening himself, he swallowed hard, as if he was on the verge of tears. You observed his movements, your eyes doubling in size, when he ripped his sweatpants off of his own body and tossed the shredded fabric on the floor. You were so surprised, you couldn’t even pay attention to his throbbing cock, pulsating against his stomach. You didn’t know if you should’ve focused on that or the fact that the act in itself had you clenching your thighs desperately. You sometimes forgot how strong Peter was and all the things he could do to you if he wanted.

Feeling how aroused you just got at the display of physical strength, he gave you one of those dopey smile he gave when either tired or extremely horny. You loved it so much, you wanted to coo at him but he was quick to remind you of his true intentions. Grabbing your wrist, he brought your hand close to his girth and exhaled in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of head when your fingers wrapped around him.

“Ugh… Fucking hell bunny… You’re killing me…” He whispered, voice breathless before you’d fully done anything.

You instantly knew what you had to do, his heavy shaft pulsating in your closed fist. You admired the shape of his cock, red and covered in past strings of cum, still leaking out of his tip. You could feel the blood rushing through it, the veins bulging out and vibrating on your skin. You looked up, meeting his dark eyes, telling you (more like begging or ordering you) to do something, anything. He would take anything from you.

You started stroking his cock, smiling with pride when he moaned your name loudly. It was strained, almost stuck in his throat, but he pushed it out at the feeling you’re your skin on his warm cock. He was finally reaching peace, getting closer to salvation at each of your moves. You got closer to him, still moving but changing pace to go faster, and laid your free hand flat again his chest. You felt his abs flex understand your fingers. He looked down on you, ignoring his hips as the started to fuck your fist nice and slow.

When you started pecking his exposed chest, he knew he would spend the rest of the night doing the countless obscene things he had in mind. He bit his lips, keeping in tears of pleasure that were threatening to spill out of his gorgeous brown eyes but letting the desperate moans come out without a care in the world.

He felt dizzy, from both pleasure and his eyes jumping between your hand on his dick and your lips on his chest. You were pecking high, living butterfly kisses on his collarbones before sliding lower on his torso. You were still looking up at him and he was slowly dying inside, feeling big load of cum about to burst out of his oversensitive cock.

“You okay baby… It’s okay… I’m here love, do what you want…” You muttered, your voice hitting his skin and traveling through his body at the speed light.

“Ah… Aahhh fuck… Please… Please I’m begging you… Please…” He didn’t know what he was begging for honestly but he just needed you to do something, anything. He was begging for anything from you, anything you could give he would take how of love and pure lust.

Holding the back of your nape, he caressed your nape tenderly, his hips still moving and fucking himself inside your closed fist. His moans echoed louder around the room, perfectly in sync with the movement of your wrist and the soft kisses you left on his skin.

Seeing his cum shoot out to cover parts of your face and your covered breast drove him even deeper down the hole of insanity he was sinking in. Vision so blurry he was certain that he would faint soon, he let loose, loud and lustful moan escaping his swollen lips. Both red like cherry, you looked up at him as he unconsciously kept moving his hips against your palm.

You felt it, he needed more and he wouldn’t need to tell you, his stiff and throbbing cock would do the job. But you were prevented from really doing anything or even thinking clearly about what you wanted to do to him. He took control fast by lifting you off the mattress and carrying you against his chest again. He took you place, sitting down on the bed and putting you on his lap.

He was moving with both control and pure instinct, looking like an animatronic, wired and programmed to work a certain way. He was indeed, working fast and eagerly, searching for the next target of his assault to your body. He was served with everything he craved the whole day and could barely think about where he wanted to start.

His dilemma was quickly resolved by the subtle moan that escaped your beautiful lips when your when your leaking cunt rubber against his veiny girth. Feeling the wetness coat him all over, he couldn’t help but drool shamelessly at the thought of having it in his mouth. Yeah, he wanted you to sit on his face still. So he laid on the covers and at your confused glare, he simply pulled you by the waist all the way to his face.

“Oh my fucking God ! Peter what the fuck are you doing ?” You exclaimed, worried that you’d suffocate him to death. He had super strength but still very much needed to breath.

You seemed reticent but did not move, keeping yourself above his face rather than sitting on it like he desired. When he tried to pull you all the way down, you glared at him, pushing his hands away from your body. Deciding against the rational part of him that refused to manhandle you, he let the primal need in him to have your sweet juices pooling all over his lips take over.

Grabbing your wrists forcefully in one hand, he wrapped his arm tight around your waist, forcing you to move at his will.

“Listen to me and listen to me well bunny.” He ordered, looking both controlled and wrecked. “I’ve spent the entire fucking day feeling everything you felt times fucking ten and not even you could calm me down. The only fucking thing I want right now is that sweet pussy of yours all over my mouth so either you sit on my fucking face or you run away as fast and far as you can before I actually start considering doing all the most disgusting and unsanitary things I have in mind.” He threatened, eyes big and dark, showing the absolute lack of restraint behind them.

You stared at him, completely in awe at the bluntness of his words. Peter gad always been pretty honest about the things he wanted to do to you, never ashamed to tell you how hard you made him on a regular. But here, he looked too fucking tired to even speak it, wanting to act rather than explain himself. This Peter would clearly do all the dirty things you wanted him to do more, the things he’d rarely try, too scared of hurting you.

He looked at you, unmoving but still holding you with a firm grip. He wasn’t going to move until you gave him an answer, or at least he thought he wouldn’t until you arched your back and tried to bite back a moan. Oh yeah, he was way past thinking clearly or asking for permission now. Now when your pussy was calling out for him.

In a few swift movements, you ended up fully sat on his handsome face, quickly losing the fear of crushing him when his wet tongue slithered between your folds. You threw your head back and arched your back once more, this time fully screaming your pleasure in the comfort of his room. Your hand grabbed pieces of his hand, pulling on it at each flick of his tongue. You could only shake over him, feeling jolts of electricity run through you when his breath hit your clit.

“Oooh ! P-Peter, fuck ! A-Aaahh… F-Fuck me !” You wailed, wiggling on him and quickly regretting it when it only made his tongue move deeper inside you.

You’d never expect for his breathing to do this kinds of things to you but here you were, moaning his name louder and louder, chanting it like a prayer even. His firm grip on your thighs made it all too much for you feeling the pad of his fingers burn through your skin. You would feel his hands for days, that was for sure. Even more when you knew he wasn’t anywhere near ready to let you go.

~

As the minutes passed, they quickly turned into hours. Hours sitting on your boyfriends face, fucking yourself on his tongue.

He’d kept his abuse constant, needing a little more each time you came. He was hungry for more, turning into a very distant version of himself, one that couldn’t control himself and his urges. His five senses were all pointing towards you, focused entirely on you and the pleasure he was giving and receiving from you. Feeling your full thighs around his face, tightening a little more each time he let his tongue wander towards your clit, he couldn’t keep himself from getting greedy. He tried to think but his mind was blank, only knowing your name and the different ways he could use to please you.

“F-Fuck ! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck ! Oh, fucking God, Peter !” You moaned, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.

His face was red and had been red for a while now but it was also glistening under the lights of the room. He was messy and needy, letting your juices coat as much space as possible on his face. You scent was overwhelming, burying all there was around under you and your aroma. He was going to remember how you smelled for days, maybe weeks and if he was lucky, it would last for even a few months. He’d have in engraved in his brain if he could, he was already contemplating not showering to keep your sweet scent on him for as long as possible.

You were now completely bare, your naked body rubbing riding his mouth at the best of the capacities you had left. You were exhausted and your thighs had given up on supporting you a while ago. Trembling and tender, each time you tried to pull away to let him breath a little at least, he’d responded with a deep grunt and bit your inner thighs as a warning that you listen to diligently. You weren’t going to risk cumming from it once more, the first time violent enough for your clit to throb at the memories only.

One if your thighs had been free from his iron grip on it but your skin was left shaped like his hand for a few seconds before returning back to it’s normal state. When he looked up at you and saw your swaying breasts, he needed to see more. He ripped your blouse open and took it off your body before tossing it somewhere. He was about to do the same to your bra but you stopped him to take it off yourself, remembering how he’d ripped your panties and skirt off of you. Poor clothes, you liked them. They would be missed.

When your exposed tits came in view, he freed one of your legs to wrap his slander fingers around your soft and warm flesh. He palmed it vigorously, eyes still trained on you and watching each of your reactions attentively. You were crying his name in pleasure, grabbing his wrist when his thumb started twirling around the pointing bud. He couldn’t help but need more. He’d never been this greedy before and each record he would hit would be topped a few minutes later.

He sucked and swallowed your slick, feeling it run down his throat and allowing him to fill his stomach with you and you only. You were the only meal he needed, the only one he wanted. He was reminded of that fact a little more each time you came hard on his face, the beautiful memory of you squirting just as destructive for him.

“P-Pete ! Baby, p-please… Please just… J-Just aaah ! Ah, fuck, oh fuck ! Oh, God, please ! Please ! P-Peter, peter ! Oh fuck, Peter !”

He smiled under you, his name never sounded better, never sounded sweeter. He was groaning and grunting into your wet mound, letting your folds quiver on his mouth, his tongue still gathering your juices with enthusiasm. He was only made to pleasure you at the moment, completely disregarding his aching cock. He couldn’t even feel it at this point. He was still throbbing violently and he was redder than before. The veins around him were pulsating more than even, strings of cum leaking out if his tip.

He wasn’t touching himself and you couldn’t touch him either but he was still cumming as much as his body could, white creamy ropes coating his chest and your lower back to drip over your ass. He could see it in the mirror in front of the bed. He had stopped counting the amount of times you came or the amount of time he did. He simply let it happen, moaning desperately in your cunt each time. His body had started to act on its own, sensitive and searching for more raw pleasure to feast on.

Tears of overstimulation were pooling out of your eyes, silently crying as he moved your hips on his own to ride his face, your eyes crossed and rolled to the back of your head. You were being tortured, his soft lips, wrapping around your clit and sucking onto it again as he felt you violently shake, sign of another orgasm coming fast.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, o-oh fuck ! Oh, no, please, please, please, please ! P-Please I can’t take it !” You begged loudly, you wouldn’t be able to take another orgasm. You knew you wouldn’t, your poor body wouldn’t be able to take it.

You were crying out for it to not happen but your body was moving in the other direction, hips jerking and thrusting yourself on his tongue. You couldn’t take more but he wasn’t asking for permission anymore, he needed it, craved it desperately. Your cum all over his face, he would get it. And he did. You bounced on his tongue, letting it twirl inside your walls and suddenly be covered by a waterfall of your wetness.

“A-Ah ! Fu- Oh god, fuck ! A-Ahn Peter ! Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter !” You sung, loud enough for anyone who paid attention to hear.

He did, he paid attention and his cock couldn’t take more of this, you broken voice crying out his name in both pleasure and sensual agony. You came hard and fast, and so did he, hot cum shooting out oh his sensitive head and falling on your back. The vision of your back covered in him did something to his brain, he had a new interest, finally.

Your body fell limp in his arms, head bobbing around as if you were unconscious and you couldn’t support yourself anymore, you were fully broken now. Poor bunny, he wasn’t done with you. He needed more, but the little voice in him that could still think things through promised to take good care of you for the next days. That was if he was finally calmed down and if you allowed him to touch you.

You leaned back, supporting yourself on his chest and slowly cried at how wrecked you were. You’d made fun of him internally earlier and now you were probably worse than him. You whimpered softly when his groans his your sensitive center. When his hands grabbed your waist, you were scared that he wasn’t done eating you out, you couldn’t take more honestly. You weren’t even sure that you wanted him to fuck you now. Maybe, you didn’t know. Your brain was too scrambled to think about it.

Suddenly laid on your back, your boyfriend wrapped your arms around his neck as he kissed your forehead, cheeks and nose. His lips lingered on you and brought a wave of warmth all through your body. You felt comfort again, peace and quiet.

Kissing the side of your face, his current mission was simply to call you down a little before stuffing himself deep inside you. He was still too out of it to function properly, his body still running purely on instinct. He simply did what his oversensitive senses told him. They told him you needed to be calmed a little, and that’s exactly what he would do.

He was fast to feel a wave of need take over in his mind. Brought at a crossroads, he had the choice between ruining your sweet cunt again and probably be banned from touching you in the future, or lock himself in the bathroom and try and call his aching member while you slept. Rational Peter would’ve chosen A while also considering B, because he was a considerate boyfriend. Now, Irrational Peter was an animal clearly, incapable of pushing his urges away and thinking things through. He was choosing A without a second thought. He’d make it up to you however you desired.

His lips wandered lower, finding your breasts and taking one of your nipples between his teeth while your other breast was vigorously squeezed by his other hand. Drunk on the feeling of your warm flesh in his mouth, he sucked long and hard, his tongue rolling around the sensitive bud before letting go in a wet sound and turning towards the other. This time, he only used his mouth, ha ds wandering lower to palm the flesh of your ass and thighs. He was close to cumming again, just from the things he was doing to you and he wanted to make sure that make you cum with him.

Standing straight, he grabbed the back of your thighs and rubbed his erected girth on your swollen clit. Your cries of pleasure erupted again, only fulling his thirst for whatever you had to give. Yeah, we already established that he was greedy.

“P-Peter please… N-No… No more edging… Please baby, I-I… I promise I’ll be good... Please... No more ! Please, d-don’t tease me no more !” You sobbed softly, clawing at his lower stomach, to pull him forward but also push him backwards.

Looking down at his own cock, he watched it drip droplets of cum on your folds, he was hypnotized by the vision. He backed up slowly, still holding your thighs apart and positioned himself at your entrance. You whined and squirmed beneath him, trying to get him inside as soon as possible. He chuckled lightly at your eagerness before thrusting deep inside you in one rough move.

He let out a groan, mouth falling open and eyes crossing as they rolled to the back of his head. He was feeling everything all at once, close to cumming only from this. He tried to get his thoughts together but he couldn’t, it was so hard, you felt so good. So, so, so good. He was keeping tears of pleasure to himself, cock so sensitive, he felt like it would explode. He lowered his face and his eyes juggled between your face and your pussy, swallowing him whole and ripping away all he had. Yeah, take it all, take everything from him.

Backing up, he repeated the motion, stretching your insides and engraving the feeling of his pulsating veins on your warm velvety walls. His pace only got quicker from there, the sounds of your cries of pleasure only matched by the sound of his skin slapping against the back of your thighs. The sensation was burning your sensitive body, still tender from the grip he’d kept on your flesh only minutes ago.

Your vision was unfocused, eyes going everywhere frantically, searching for something to focus on, to keep you steady. You couldn’t look at him, not now, not when you were so weak to his every move. Everything he did to you was piling up, all the emotions and sensations crumbling on you all at once. You could barely process one that the next was erupting inside you. You knew that if you looked at him, his expression would only make it worst.

You always loved how he looked when he was fucking you but it was ten times more arousing for you when he was overwhelmed, which was practically all the time. He’d always groan your name louder and louder, big brown eyes drowning you both in a pool of lust. You couldn’t even deal with the memory of his face.

“F-Fuck… You feel this bunny ? My fat cock… It’s spreading you so wide… Bet you can feel it all the way in your tummy…” He groaned, leaning forward and pecking your puckered lips.

You were always needy for his kisses and he was always glad to give you as many as you wanted. He was yours to play with, and you always did so much for him, he would never refuse you anything, out of gratitude, boundless loyalty and love. He chuckled at the thoughts he was having. He could still find it in him to be a sap, even when his brain could barely process daily words or actions at the moment. Love would do that to you.

His body got closer to you, lowering himself on you and plowing deeper and harder in your tight heat, living for the various ways you’d scream his name.

“P-Peter ! Oh, oh my… Oh fuck, more ! Peter, more please more baby ! More ! Peter please !” You sobbed into his ear when he nestled his head in the crook of your neck to bite your collarbones hard enough to leave a mark.

He was close, dangerously close. He was actually surprised he managed to hold out for that long, and just as surprised that you did the same. Working himself inside you, he started sucking on your skin and biting it all over, one of his hands letting go of your thigh and placing itself on your stomach to press your belly. He could feel the tip lf his cock violently poking through.

Pushing your legs on your chest, the change of angle gave him access to the perfect spot inside you, the one that would have the neighbors complaining despite the diy soundproof padding of his apartment. He would probably need to invest on a new bedframe too, the one he owned currently, threatening to split in too as his rough hip thrust made the bed shake and slam on the wall. Lucky him, he was holding you, if he’d been holding the head if the bed, he would’ve ripped it apart himself.

“Oh god, oh, god, oh Peter, God ! Please, I’m s-so, so fucking close oh please !” You begged, tears spilling all over your flushed cheeks.

“F-Fuck… Bunny, please, give it to me… Come on bunny, one more… Just one more…”

Your high came surprisingly fast, surprising the both of you and raining over you in a sweet shower of pleasure. You arched your back, biting one of the most obscene noises you’ve ever made. You gripped on the bedsheets, ripping them apart too in the process. You’d barely processed your own orgasm that the man above you followed quickly after, filling you up with him cum, warm and thick, coating your walls and invading your entire being.

You whimpered, breathing with difficulty and trying to gather yourself. You couldn’t, not when he was still holding you and still going. You looked at him as if he’d grown a new set of arms and three heads. He attempted leaned down, kissing the side lf your jaw and chuckling in your ear when you whined in displeasure.

“Sorry baby… I’ll take good care of you, I promise…”

“I… I hate you…” You sobbed silently. Yeah, you should probably cancel your plans for the rest of the weekend.

~

Many hours later, you didn’t understand how you were still standing, or in this case, kneeling. Holding yourself on all fours, your body was rocking back and forth, at the rhythm of his thrust inside you. You could do it anymore, you couldn’t take more, nothing in this world could take this much, human or not. This man was insane, this was evident now.

You would need to make a run to the pharmacy for the morning after pill. Your birth control could definitely not take the amount of cum he’d fucked in you, and you loved him but neither of you were ready for a baby, even if you enjoyed the thought of having one and the process too.

The sheets were ruined, cum and drool all over them, adding to the many holes you both tore in the fabric. No washing could save them either, he’d get new ones and hopefully they would get treated better.

Peter was probably just as wrecked as you but clearly not exhausted in the slightest and definitely not bothered by the state if his body. His skin was covered in various marks that could’ve been given by some kind of enemy he fought in his red and blue costume. You’d given him these marks, biting on the skin of his collarbones, his jaw, his ear, his shoulders and honestly anywhere you could reach. He’d let you mark him however you pleased, a small price to pay for what he did to you. Even the bloody lacerations on his back were definitely worth it to him.

He felt a little guilty but never enough to stop, not when you sounded so good moaning his name. Nothing could get him down that high he’d been stuck in the entire day. He tried to calm himself down at times but nothing would be enough, nothing would quench his thirst for you and your body.

Gripping on your hip and slamming his cock deep in you, your ass bouncing on his lower stomach, he could feel himself cumming once more. He watched you reach forward, as if trying to run away, you’d done it a few times already and he pulled you back by the ankles each time. Your face fell, burying itself in what was left of the sheets and bite into them hard, saliva soaking them a little more when your mouth fell open and a scream hit the mattress.

“Good… Good girl, just one left… Only one left and I'm letting you rest baby…” He groaned, leaning over your back and kissing your nape tenderly.

“Aaaahhh… N-No… C-Can’t… N-Not anymore…” You muttered, voice broken and incapable of thinking about coherent words to moan.

His balls slapped against your folds, the sound of your wetness and his cum vibrating in his sensitive eardrums. He could still hear and feel it all, his senses pushed to the maximum of their capacities and suddenly going completely silent. He reached forward too, fingers grazing the soft skin of your arm to intertwine with yours and hold your hand tightly. His free hand wrapped around your middle, pulling you towards him. You soon both came, just as hard as you’d previously did, both your juices spilling out of your sensitive hole.

Your moans and his grunts quickly turned into loud sounds of breathing, your heavy breathing resonating in the room. He leaned his head on the back of yours, feeling a sense of calm and peace he’d craved for a long while. He was finally feeling better, all calm and not as overwhelmed as he had been previously.

A suddenly ray of light caught both your attention, your heads snapping towards the window. Your eyes widened as you saw the sun rise and peak through the window. You had fucked the whole night. The entire night, you had been turned over and over, your body stripped bare and abused non stop. The whole night. You sobbed in desperation and disappointment too. You didn’t really know why you were disappointed but you were, probably at the lack of self control. You boyfriend, on the other hand, was keeping in a laugh he knew would get him in trouble.

“I’m sorry… So sorry bunny… I’m so, so, so sorry… I promise, I’m sorry…” He muttered, kissing your neck tenderly.

You knew he only meant it partially, never truly sorry for the things he did to you. He loved how wrecked he made you and loved how dumb you got for him, he would get just as stupid for you. In thus situation, he’d been stupid horny from the beginning.

You both fell to the side, facing the window and the rising new day. You were starting to feel the exhaustion fall over you all at once and so was he. He yawned and you did the same, nuzzling your face in the pillows. His hand rested on your stomach, caressing it slowly and trying to massage your aching parts. He pecked your cheek tenderly, smiling to himself at how great of a girlfriend you were. Finally, he was calm again, after practically breaking your body, he was okay.

You would probably put him on a sex ban for the foreseeable future and it would be deserved. Now he understood why you were the one calming him down when overwhelmed by the world : you were the one with the common sense. When the spider parts became too much to handle, you’d handle it for him.

“Pete ?” You called out after a few minutes of silence.

“Hum ?”

“You feelin’ better ?” You asked softly, still looking out for him by being as quiet as possible.

He exhaled in your neck, feeling his heart thump in his chest. He was so in love for you, he could barely think. You were genuinely the best, still carrying about his wellbeing when you were hanging on the last ropes on consciousness. He raised himself slightly to bed himself forward and kiss your lips.

“I’m fine bunny… I might just need to do a few researches in my dad’s stuff, we wouldn’t want this whole thing to happen again, would we ?” He chuckled lightly, voice deep and resonating.

“No thank you. I’ll take the running away option next time.” You responded, side eyeing him. You loved him but absolutely not, never again (or probably at least once, it wasn’t that bad).

For the rest of the day, you caught up on sleep, still attached together and when he woke up, he found his father’s researches, discovering the cases of heats that spiders would go through, specifically the kind that bit him. Turns out, when location a pray to mate with, they get overwhelmed by a the sensations felt by the other, feeding of this connection to know exactly what to do. His already sensitive senses turned towards you only and seeking to please you.

Good to know, at least he knew that next time, he should read the entirety of his father’s researches instead lf skimming through them. Luckily, Peter was a fast learner. And he had the heightened senses to help.

[skeepdotexe]

Hi, I love your work so much! Sorry this might be kind of long: I was hoping you could do an amazing Spider-Man imagine where instead of Peter getting sucked into the mcu, the reader somehow gets sucked into TASM universe. Reader is an avenger with some sort of powers so could you somehow include when she first enters the universe she meets face to face with Spider-Man in a dark alleyway or something and obviously gets really freaked out and tries to attack him because she thinks he’s a threat. Idk just some sort of a small angsty fight and love at first sight sort of thing pls haha thank you <3

You and Me

PAIRING: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Avenger!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

NOTES: both Peter and reader are 21 so she can drink. also there is one f bomb. but bro if it were me, I’d drop everything and live with Peter in his universe, life would be great <3

“BOOM! And that’s how ya do it,” Sam hollers, throwing his cards down on the table. Steve throws his cards down, Bucky and Natasha immediately shake their heads and cause a fit, and you, well... you weren’t about to let him win. 

“You sure about that, bird man?” you grin, placing your cards over his. 

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me,” Bucky practically cackles, while Sam stares blankly with his jaw dropped open. Natasha grins wide, patting you on the back. 

“Atta girl, finally beat the bastard,” she says. Steve still smiles as you get up and walk over to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. 

“About time, huh Sam? Couldn’t let you keep stealing all the thunder, right?” you laugh as you drink out of the bottle before letting it tip to pour into the small glass you pulled out of the cupboard. No one responds, and your eyebrows crinkle up in confusion. “What, are you getting pissy with me?” 

“Y/N...” Natasha’s voice calls out with fear, making you abandon the kitchen, running back to the room to make sure she’s alright. You don’t know what you’re looking at when she makes eye contact with you. Sam and Steve are gone, and Bucky... he’s standing looking down at his hands, looking like he’s... glitching? You don’t know how to even describe it, and he lifts his head to see you one last time before he just disappears. 

“Nat, what’s happening,” your voice shakes, and you look back at her before she stumbles towards you, grabbing your forearms and forcing you to look in her eyes. 

“Stay strong, alright?” and just like that, she’s gone too. You don’t even realize tears are streaming down your face until you feel the wetness on your hands, the hands that were just holding one of your best friends. 

“No, no, no, no!” you scream and panic, not knowing the first thing to do. Before you even have another moment to think, it feels like your brain goes fuzzy and you can’t concentrate, everything seems so out of place and the earth feels like it’s spinning. Your hands clutch your head and you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping the end doesn’t hurt as much you thought it did. When you open your eyes, you’re not in the compound.

Your knees buckle and you fall to the ground, your hands splaying out in front of you so your face doesn’t make impact with the ground. Your breathing is erratic and you can’t think, can’t speak without wanting to scream. So much fear is running through your bones that you don’t even realize where you are until you sort of start to get your bearings.

1, 2, 3... inhale...exhale

You take three deep breaths, counting in your head, allowing yourself to get a grip. Have to start thinking. Have to start doing something. You hear a garbage can clang against the ground, and you let yourself calm when you realize that was just you. Sometimes when you were under stress or panic, your powers would go out of control and things would go haywire. You try to focus your mind, not to let your powers get a hold of you. Telekinesis wasn’t always a gift. Standing up, you take a look around, finding that you’re in some dark alley way in what looks to be New York. You had to have gotten drunk or something, there has to be a reasonable explanation for this. Or this is just some nightmare you haven’t woken up from yet, so you pinch yourself to make sure.

No, you’re definitely awake.

Attempting to walk, you take a couple steps, going slow to make sure you don’t fall again. By now, you have more focus, but so many questions are bouncing around your head. It’s night out, bright lights at the end of the alley from the busy streets of New York, and loud sounds coming from honking cars and so many people. Every few minutes, people will pass by and you shrink further into the shadows, hoping to conceal yourself from anyone’s view. You hear a faint noise from above you, looking up the fire escape on the side of the building. At first you don’t see anything, but suddenly, a red and blue figure jumps down landing in front of you, shooting an arm forward which makes you think this person has a gun, so you throw him to the side, launching him into the brick wall beside you. You hear a groan, and before you can react, a web attaches itself to your hand and throws you back into the wall, making your hand trapped. The person in the strange suit is already up on their feet, making slow steps towards you.

“Slow down, I’m not gonna-” they start, but you slip the hidden knife from under your shirt, always having one on you, cutting the web away quickly before you’re already throwing the knife at them. “What the h-”

Despite their obvious shock that you just used your mind to get the knife back, they side step it quickly, catching the handle and throwing it over their shoulder, which makes you tilt your head in confusion. No one has ever been able to catch your knives before, the only way would be to expect it coming, and no one ever does. “Look, miss... I’m only trying to-” they start again, but you use your powers to pull the knife back towards you, it flying back into your hand so you can advance on the masked person in front of you. You don’t think, you just fight. Listening to the voice, it sounds like a man, and from the looks of him, you just assume for the time being. He still tries to talk to you as you slash the air in front of you, making him back up and avoid every single slash you’ve attempted to make. He knocks the knife out of your hand, grabbing your wrist with a tight grip. Surprisingly, he’s a lot stronger than you originally thought, and despite probably knowing that you won’t escape his grip, you fight against him. 

“Let me go, let me go!” you yell, hitting him hard in the chest, but he doesn’t budge. He webs your wrists together, tugging you against him so you’re unable to move. Everything inside you is screaming to fight back, punch, kick, do whatever you can to escape his grasp, but you only squirm and stare him in the face with panic. Letting go of you with one hand, he quickly brings his hand up to tug off the mask, pulling it off his head and grabbing you again. 

“Look at me, look at me... I’m not gonna hurt you, I won’t hurt you. Just calm down, calm down...” he says comfortingly, with a soft look on his face. His hands stroke your arms up and down and your hands stay webbed in front of you. He’s young, most likely around your age, with curly brown hair and warm honey eyes that make you want to melt to the floor. He’s pretty, but in a boyish way that makes you want to never stop staring at him. “Take a deep breath for me okay? Can you do that?”

You nod your head, slightly shaking from the adrenaline, but he holds you as you take a few deep breaths. 

“Good, you’re doing great! Can you tell me who you are, or how you just used your mind to take that knife back?” he tries a grin, but your eyes widen and you remember that you don’t know where you are and that all your friends just disappeared in front of your eyes. This man is most likely not the reason your friends are gone, but even despite the kind words and the fact that he’s not trying to kill you, you step back and attempt to break free from your bonds.

Peter panics, webbing you again, pulling you against his chest. Not even ten minutes ago he’s swinging around New York, and then all of a sudden, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he can almost feel a presence near him, a potential threat but... not exactly. He had swung as fast as he could, not even knowing where he was going, but as soon as he saw you, he knew something wasn’t right. You were absolutely beautiful, probably the most breathtaking woman he’s ever seen, but something inside him is telling him that you need to be detained. But looking at you, all he could see was a frightened girl who didn’t know where she was, and his first instinct was to help you. 

Your breathing picks up again, and tears start to fill your eyes. You squeeze them shut, bringing up your fists to cover your face. You almost never cry, but in this moment, you feel like your lungs are constricting and everything is hopeless. 

They’re gone.

I won’t find them. 

They’re already dead.

You’re lost. 

They. are. gone.

“Hey, hey! Listen to me, you’re alright, nothing’s going to hurt you. You’re safe, I got you. Just breathe...” his hands grab your face and pull you up, your bound hands falling and your eyes dropping with them. He follows your gaze, quickly breaking them, making your hands grip his fiercely. “What’s your name, tell me your name love, focus on that,” he says, all seriousness written in his features. 

“Y-Y/N..” you manage, your tearful eyes meeting his and he smiles. 

“Good, you’re doing so good Y/N, do you know where you are?” 

You blink, more tears falling down your face, “I don’t know, I don’t know-” Before you can panic even more he diverts your attention back to his face, reeling you back in. 

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay! You’re in Queens, do you know where that is?”

“N-New York,” you sputter, tightening your grip.

“Yeah! Yeah, you’re right. Do you live around here? Can I get you home or call someone?” You shrug your shoulders, not really knowing what to say. Something inside you is telling you that you are nowhere near home, even though he just said you’re in New York. As you think even more, everyone in New York, practically everyone in the world knows who you are, you’re an avenger. How does he not recognize you? And wouldn’t you know if there was another vigilante running around? 

He nods his head, “Okay, well, I’ll take you to the police station so-”

“No! No, don’t take me there, I need-” you shake your head violently, “I-I just need to know how I got here. I was at the compound with Steve Rogers and-” 

“Is Steve your friend, can we call him?” he interrupts, trying to find the quickest possible solution to help you. You stare at him with a blank face.

“You don’t know who Captain America is?” Now it’s his turn to look confused. 

“Who?” You gasp, pulling away from him, bringing your hands to your head.

“No, no, no, no, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening. I thought maybe there was a possibility, but I never thought I could be right. There’s no way, no way-” 

He grabs your face again to look at you, “What are you talking about, what could you be right about? Where are you from, Y/N?”

“Queens...” you mumble, “Queens, New York. But not this, Queens.” For a moment, you think you’re gonna have to explain yourself but, for some reason, it looks like he knows exactly what you’re talking about. 

“The multiverse...” he whispers quietly. You nod your head, confirming what you both are thinking, and he opens his mouth but closes it again. 

“I don’t know how I got here, but I need help...” you say frantically, “my friends... they may have somehow gone to other universes too, and I don’t know how to get back!” You’re both quiet for a moment, and your ragged breathing starts to slow after a bit. You didn’t even realize he was still holding you, gently rubbing your arms. He stopped, giving you a nod.

“I’m Spider-Man,” he says, with a tight lipped smile. 

You look at him weird, “Is that like your alter-ego name or...” 

He blushes a little bit, “Right! No, yeah that’s my alter-ego name, my real name’s Peter Parker.” 

“Thank you, Peter Parker,” you say quietly, suddenly shy because you didn’t even know him yet and you already made a fool of yourself.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I’m glad I could help, even a little bit,” he nods his head. Noticing he’s still holding you, he lets go, rubbing his hands down his side and scratching the back of his head. 

“So um, you wanna come back to my place? You can stay with me until we figure out how to get you back?” He asks, avoiding your eye until he quickly adds, “Only if you want to of course!” 

You laugh a little, nodding your head, “Sure, thank you.”

“No problem at all,” he says. He puts his mask back on and puts your arms around his neck, then tightly holds you around the waist. “Hold on tight!”

... 

3 months later

“Ow!” Peter groans, throwing his head back on the chair. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you mutter through your teeth, trying to stitch his side as quickly as you can. Ever since you starting staying with him, you would always patch him up when he’d come home after a long night. He told you you didn’t have to pay him back for staying with him, but you offered to do things to help out anyway. One of those things being patching him up when he’s hurt. And right now, even though he’s the one in pain, he’s trying to comfort you, because he knows you don’t like seeing him like this. 

“It’s fine, just stung,” he looks down at his wound before looking back up at you. You were concentrated, your tongue poking out like it always does when you’re focused. He can’t help but hiss again, grabbing your arm as he groans in pain. You cry out again and again that you’re sorry, but he only rubs your arm in comfort, letting you know you have nothing to be sorry for.

“I’m done, I’m done now,” you breath out, placing a bandage over it so it doesn’t tear. You smooth it gently onto his skin, as carefully as you can. He breaths out a sigh of relief, picking his head up to look at it. 

“Good job, better than I would have done,” he says jokingly. You roll your eyes, knowing that it was a total lie. 

“Don’t boost my ego too much, Parker,” you smirk, handing him a bottle of water and some medicine to make him feel better. He waves it off, and you give him a look. 

“I’ll be fine in a couple of hours, don’t worry.”

“You say that, but last time when I woke up you were still groaning in pain! Take the damn medicine,” you say sternly. He chuckles, giving you a smile.

“Yes, ma’am.” You blush a little bit, getting up to wash your hands in the bathroom. When you come back, he’s pushing himself off the stair, standing up with a hand on his abdomen. 

“Hey, where do you think you’re going mister?” you run over to him, catching him right before he fell back down. He puts his other arm around your neck, keeping you there as you attempt to get him back down. 

“Ya know, I never had this,” he says, looking into your eyes. You hold him, but don’t try to move this time. 

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly. 

“Before I met you... nobody patched me up when I came home. I don’t let my Aunt May see any part of what I do, and... I don’t have very many friends,” he laughs.

“Why not?” you ask.

He frowns a little, “I can’t put anybody in danger, them knowing me... it could ruin their life.” 

“I know the feeling,” you force out a laugh, your gaze towards the floor. You’re both quiet a moment, his finger eventually coming up to lift your chin to look up at him. You stare at him, watching his eyes jump between your lips and your eyes. “Peter-” 

Suddenly, his face rushes towards you and his lips touch yours gently, almost shyly at first, before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and his hands hold your face close to his. His hands slide down to your neck, slowly, and then down to your waist, where he grips you and holds you closer to him tighter. You take his face in your hands and move back, taking a deep breath and resting your forehead on his. 

“I’ve wanted to do that since the minute I laid eyes on you,” he mutters, one hand coming up to rub your cheek gently. You lean into his hand, kissing his palm gently. 

“Why now?” 

He doesn’t know what to say first. Honestly he doesn’t really know the answer to that. But he knows the first time he saw you, it almost felt like seeing a sunset for the first time. Or eating your favorite food after a really long day. Or coming out of water for a breath of fresh air. It felt like falling in love. 

“I couldn’t hold it in any longer,” he shakes his head, “Meeting you that day felt like I just met the most important person in my life. It felt like I could finally breath after all the air got sucked out of my lungs, it felt like I fell in love.”

You shake your head, closing your eyes and dropping your head onto his shoulder, “Peter-” 

“You don’t have to say anything-”

“I love you.” 

Peter’s eyes widen, and then he smiles so big it almost makes you stop crying. Almost. When he realizes you’re crying because you’re upset, his eyes turn sad and his hands grip your face.

“Baby, why are you crying? I love you-”

“I’m so scared,” you sputter out, hating to see the worry in his face that you’re taking your confession back, “I really miss my friends, but I fell in love with you and I wouldn’t be able to go back.”

“Hey, look at me,” he says, “I would go anywhere you go. Fuck the universe, alright? It’s you and me now, you got that?” You shake your head fiercely, making him smile at you and rest his lips on your forehead. 

“You and me?”

“You and me.”

[skeepdotexe]

Patching up Spidey

pairing: reader x Spider-man (TASM - Andrew Garfield)

word count: 2.3k

rating: mostly fluff, descriptions of cuts/blood, mostly pg-13

summary: attempting to finish your homework, you're interrupted by no one else but Spider-man, severely wounded. I mean come on, it's Spider-man, of course you're gonna help him. He's also hot, which definitely helps.

not proofread

Hunched over your desk, you begrudgingly finish your long overdue science homework.

Why the fuck doesn’t Mr.Smith just give us the formula instead of talking about his failing marriage? you thought as you sifted through the recording of the biology lecture.

As you scribbled down some numbers onto your paper, you heard a tapping against your window. Your focus was diverted from your glowing computer to the window to see no one other than Spider-man. His chest was open with a huge slice taken out of it. His arms were also wounded but not as severely.

Now what the fu-

But before you could finish that thought, Spider-man sunk down on your fire escape, unconscious. You immediately got up from your desk and rushed over to your window. You struggled to open the old window but eventually you managed to pry it open. You scanned over the lying hero’s body inspecting the wounds.

“Shit, shit, shit, SHIT,” you whispered.

You grabbed his shoulders as delicately as you could and pulled him into your room and onto your bed. You stood hovering above him, your eyes darting from one wound to the next. You quietly considered your options while pacing around your room.

“Should I take him to a hospital? No, then they’ll need to get his info and everything. Then I have to treat him, right? But I don’t know how to bandage wounds! Maybe a hospital would be better…” you rambled.

Your train of thought was quietly stopped by Spider-man’s low, raspy voice. You spun your head around to face him.

“Please, no hospitals.” he refused, slowly trying to sit upright.

"Maybe sitting up isn't the best idea. In case you hadn't noticed, you have a huge gash in your chest along with your arms," you explained as you tried to lay him down.

"Really?! You know, I hadn't noticed. Thanks for letting me know," Spider-man said sarcastically.

He looked at you with hooded eyes and the outline of a crooked grin on his face, clearly proud with his response. You rolled your eyes and looked back down at him.

"Maybe I should take you to a hospital," you retorted.

His eyes widened at your response.

"No, no, no, no look, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It was a bad joke, ok? Can you just patch me up real quick? Then I'll be on my way," he asked.

You chuckled at his slight panic.

"I was joking, dude. I can patch you up. But I don't know if I can really do you justice with that big of a wound though. I'm pretty sure all I have is a first-aid kit," you said, stepping away to your bathroom to fetch said first-aid kit.

"Thanks, and it should work. Same thing I use when I have to patch myself up. Shouldn't be much different," he explained.

Shuffling through your messy cabinet you finally found your first-aid kit that had been collecting dust. Exiting the bathroom you waltzed back over to Spider-man, box in hand. You sat down in front of him, setting the first-aid kit on your nightstand. You opened the kit up pulling out bandages, tweezers and disinfectant. You turned yourself to face the masked man, eyes slowly moving down to his wounds.

"Umm so I need you to take off your suit," you said, your eyes avoiding his.

"Right, right," he started, "I'd love to do that, really I would, but I can't really move," he explained, pointing to the wound on his chest.

Holy shit I'm an idiot you thought as a blush crept upon your face.

“Jesus, sorry. Ok yeah,” you said, scrambling to get the words out.

You slowly tugged at his suit, lowering it to his waist, your fingers lightly brushing his bare skin. He watched you with his unwavering gaze as you kept your eyes fixated on his chest. After lowering the suit you quickly diverted your attention back to the first-aid kit. You grabbed the tweezers and shifted back to face his wounded chest.

Holy shit, why’s he so ripped?! Jesus, don’t be dumb Y/N, he fights people all the time of course he’s ripped. you thought while staring at his chest, beads of sweat slowly forming on your forehead.

You quickly shook the thoughts from your mind and began to pick bits of dirt, rocks and rubble that surrounded the wound. Spider-man sucked a sharp breath through his teeth as you plucked a piece of dirt that was closer to the wound. You dart your eyes up to meet his, his mask outlining a strained expression.

“So..what’s your name?” he asked, trying to cut down on the tension that was slowly filling the room.

You gave him a quick glance then resumed removing the rubble.

“...Y/N,” you replied, now finished removing all the debris.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he repeated while slowly nodding his head.

You turned back to the first-kit and grabbed the disinfectant and a few cotton balls.

“Little funny how you only ask me that now, considering you crashed onto my fire escape then begged me to patch you up,” you joked.

He chuckled at your response with his low voice and flopped his head back onto your pillow.

“I wouldn’t say begged,” he retorted.

“Well, you wouldn’t,” you responded, dabbing disinfectant onto one of the cotton balls.

Once again he laughed at your response.

You slowly applied the disinfectant to the wound and Spider-man immediately tensed up. His hands molded into fists and his once relaxed jaw, clenched. You looked back up at him to see blood slowly stain his already red mask.

“Holy shit, you’re bleeding!” you exclaimed, lightly grabbing his jaw and moving closer to his face to inspect it.

He winced at the quick movement and let out a strained chuckle.

“Yeaah, forgot about that one,” he slightly stumbled over his words, as your face was now very close to his.

“I’m sorry but I have to check that out. If it’s bleeding it’s probably an open wound,” you pointed out, concern laced in your voice.

Through his mask you could see him begin to open his mouth, to dispute, but instead sighed. He knew that with how you asked, you wouldn’t let him leave without you checking it out first. He dropped his head down and tugged at the back of the mask, pulling it off in one swift motion. Your eyes slightly widened at his face now being revealed. He had a sharp jawline, paired with soft brown eyes and messy brown hair matted from wearing the mask. With the mask off, he turned to you and made contact with your steady gaze.

“Are you gonna check out the wound or are you just going to keep checking me out?” he teased, a small smile creeping up the sides of his mouth.

Your face suddenly felt hot from his comment, realizing you had probably been staring a little too long. You could feel your face turning red. You quickly cleared your throat and blinked a few times, breaking the stare.

“You’d probably like that though, wouldn’t you?” you teased back.

Now it was his turn to turn red. His eyes slightly widened by your retort and he nervously chuckled.

“Now come here,” you said, gently grabbing his jaw again, pulling him closer to inspect the wound.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this a little. Sure he had interrupted your homework, but it was kind of fun watching him go from charismatic and composed to flustered and nervous.

As you kept inspecting the wound, Spider-man averted his eyes from yours, but would occasionally glance to see your expression. Your nose slightly scrunched and your eyebrows slightly furrowed with such focus and concern.

"Actually, it doesn't look like too bad of a cut. But we should probably still disinfect it and.." you continued but your voice was drowned out by Spider-man's thoughts.

What luck I have, he thought not only is the first fire escape I land on belong to someone willing to help me but is also insanely beautiful.

As you inspected the wound, it was now his turn to stare at you. Your bright eyes, your supple lips and the frame of your face left him in awe. He didn’t just find you beautiful but kind, funny and surprisingly welcoming to a stranger entering your home. He loved how gently you held his jaw in place and how cautious you were with it. Your soft touch grazing the edge of the wound, somehow making it hurt less.

“...But I should have a band-aid big enough for it,” you finished, interrupting his thoughts.

He blinked out of his stare and met your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah band-aid should work," he replied, clearly only hearing the last bit of your sentence.

You laughed at his obliviousness slightly shaking your head as you got up from the floor to see if you had any large band-aids left. You returned from rummaging through your cabinet, with band-aid in hand. You sat back down in front of him.

You grabbed one more cotton ball and soaked it with disinfectant and gently rubbed the cut. Once again he tensed up from the stinging. Then you applied the band-aid, tenderly swiping your thumbs over it. Your eyes slowly met his and his met yours. From his eyes you gradually traveled down to his lips. He did the same and your faces inched closer. Time seemed to slow down as the tension in between you two grew. Slowly, he brought his hand to your face, cupping it and pulled you into his lips. A whirl of butterflies filled your stomach. His lips were soft and gentle, slowly molding into yours. The kiss deepened, you both leaning further into it. Your hands traveled down to his chest slowly caressing it, avoiding the cut. His hands wandered down from your cheek to your waist, pulling you even closer.

Suddenly, you two were interrupted by the buzz of a familiar phone. You slowly pulled away from his lips, annoyed with the disruption and pulled your phone out of your back pocket. You read the caller ID and recognize the name immediately, rolling your eyes.

Of all the times, why did Aaliyah have to call me now?

You turned back to Spider-man to see a tender expression, making your eyes soften. Your thoughts were clouded by the feeling of his lips and his chest that you were just separated from because of an unwanted call.

“Uh…I’m sorry, I should take this,” you said, drawn out of your haze by the phone buzzing again.

“Of course, no problem,” he chuckled, his eyes fixated on your lips, clearly also reminiscing of the feeling of you.

You sat up and scurried to the bathroom, swiftly closing the door behind you. With a sigh you answered the call, preparing for the whirlwind that was Aaliyah.

“Y/N I can’t figure out this stupid English paper,” she whined through the phone. “Can you help me? I’ll promise to pay for lunch next time!”.

You pinched the bridge of your nose in exhaustion and realized you stopped making out with Spider-man for this. Another sigh escaped your lips.

“Aaliyah, can we talk about this later?” you asked “I’m kinda busy right now,”.

“Busy? With what?” she questioned, curiosity in her voice.

“Nothing ok, I’ll tell you about it later,” you chuckle.

"Wait, tell me now Y/-" Aaliyah groaned but was stopped by you ending the call.

You snickered at her whining and slowly exited the bathroom. You were met with Spider-man now no longer laying down on your bed.

He was halfway out your window, turned towards you. He had put his mask back on and his suit returned to shield his chest. You felt a little sad, seeing him prepared to leave.

"Umm, I didn't know how long you were going to take so I uh…I thought I should probably go," he stammered, somewhat embarrassed you caught him leaving.

"You know, you can stay if you want," you said, walking over to him till you two met at the window sill.

He smiled at your response, just the thought that you wanted him to stay made him melt. He considered forgetting about doing patrol tonight and staying with you, but he knew New York awaited him, along with Aunt May. You both could hear sirens faintly in the background and with that you knew he couldn't stay.

"I get it," you said with a sad smile "go help New York Spidey,".

He arched an eyebrow at your comment and a smirk crept up his mouth.

"Spidey?" he questioned, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

"Unless you tell me your name, it's gonna be Spidey from now on, Spider-man's a bit of a mouthful," you retorted. "Do you not like it?"

"No, no Spidey works," he laughed "might have to change my name now, since Spider-man's such a mouthful,"

You giggled at his response. He turned his head towards the city, again contemplating whether or not to leave. With a sigh, he pulled off the mask swiftly and turned back to you. He gently grabbed your face in his sturdy hands and kissed you once more. But just as fast as he kissed you, he withdrew and put back on his mask.

Fully outside of your apartment, he stood on the fire escape ready to leave.

Funny to think that not too long ago he passed out on said fire escape.

You walked to the edge of the window to watch him leave, but to your surprise he stayed unmoving, one leg bent up on the railing. He turned around once more to face you.

"Can I come back later?" he asked.

"Y-yeah sure," you replied, a little surprised at his question.

"Cool" he replied, the faint outline of a smile against his mask.

And with that, he jumped off the fire escape. Swinging from building to building, the masked hero slowly left your sight. You turned back into your room, butterflies filling your stomach in anticipation for his return.

[skeepdotexe]

best friends (peter parker)

summary: you’ve always considered yourself peter parker’s best friend. but when his interest in mary jane complicates your friendship, it gets harder to hide your feelings for him.

notes: hi everybody!!!!! this is 13.2k words long so i hope you enjoy it. i’m also trying out this thing where i change my pseudonym to sloane because i think it fits me more than when i picked scout over 3 years ago. also @ mary jane i’m sorry i love u please forgive me

warnings: typos, probably.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

As Peter Parker’s best friend, it hurt to hear him talk about other girls he wanted to go on dates with.

Keep reading

[skeepdotexe]

Movie Nights & Makeshift Medics

TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: It’s Thursday, and Peter doesn’t realize you’re in his room until he’s quite literally crawling through the window.

Peter Parker has spotted you as Spider-Man three times in the past week.

Three times that you’ve caught his eye, completely enamoring him even while he’s supposed to be focusing, swinging a hundred feet in the air and yet barely catching the glinting shine of a skyscraper that’s right in front of his face. It’s the only moments where Peter curses his perfect sight, because in a crowd of people denser than a neutron star, you’re the one his senses seem to seek out every time. He’s starting to think it’s some sort of psychological phenomenon that only he experiences, and it’s driving him mad.

Of course, he never despises getting the opportunity to see you. He’s simply not a fan of being that preoccupied on patrol.

Not to mention, he really shouldn’t be this attracted—shit, distracted—by one of his best friends in the first place.

He already gets to spend classes with you on a weekly basis, gets to rest his chin on his palm as you give a brilliant presentation on this literary concept he barely understands but finds fascinating when you explain it. He already knows the way you smile sweetly when you come over to his apartment on Thursdays, how you burst into laughter when Aunt May makes a lighthearted joke at his expense over dinner.

Peter convinces himself that it’s simply his protectiveness at work every time he pinpoints you. Purely platonic. There is no other explanation for why he can find your face in a crowd so easily, so that’s what he settles for.

And now, after an uneventful evening of scouring the city streets for any signs of trouble (save for the one drunken fight that he helped break up on Jackson Avenue, where some dude in his thirties snagged him with a broken beer bottle), Peter finds himself face-to-face with you for the fourth time this week whilst still in his Spider-Man suit. Except this time, he’s crawling through his bedroom window as you prop open his door.

Was it Thursday already?

You gape at him incredulously, an old DVD of Congo clattering right onto the wooden flooring of his room as a rushed string of curse words fly from your mouth. Peter basically freezes in his spot, half of his body already in the apartment when you catch him red handed, his face contorting into a grimace under the mask like he’s just tasted something sour.

“You’re…” you try to fish for words, your hand gripping the door handle like some sort of lifeline, “you just broke into here.”

Peter’s mind goes blank, and he scrambles through the window frame the rest of the way, just barely avoiding falling to the ground with a thud that might have left his poor Aunt May calling out in concern. You, on the other hand, barely have the time to decide if turning on your heel and running is a better option than staying to hear out your infamous intruder. He can see the internal conflict that plays out in your head in a matter of seconds, your hands trembling with pure adrenaline as your lips press into a thin line. Luckily—and to Peter’s relief—you slip past the doorway and swiftly shut it behind you without another sound.

“I can explain,” he starts in a voice almost comically deeper than his own, putting his hands up as he cautiously treads further into the room.

You raise an unbelieving brow at him, although he can see your eyes darting from wall to wall as your brain attempts to process this very new, very unexpected development. “Oh, can you?”

He feels the rapid beating of his heart as it prattles against his ribcage, blood pumping heavy in his ears as you anxiously await an explanation. “Peter—you see, your friend Peter and I are acquainted.”

Acquainted? Who the hell uses that in a sentence regularly?

Your nose scrunches up, just like it does whenever you’re thoroughly confused on those statistics problems that Peter always helps you work through. “You know Petey?”

The nickname makes his stomach churn with something like guilt. “Yeah, we’ve met a couple of times.”

All of a sudden, you start to pace around the untidy room, narrowly avoiding the heaps of workbooks and the strewn about photographs that litter the floor. Your gaze flickers from his still-masked face, to the posters hanging on his walls, to the half-ajar closet door. And then without warning, your mind seems to click into a sense of understanding that leaves Peter’s hands fidgeting with nothing but the stilled air around him.

“Is this why he always seems to have those first aid things hidden in here?” you gasp, running a shaky hand through your hair at this apparent revelation. “He helps patch you up sometimes, doesn’t he?”

Peter nearly collapses where he stands.

All the immense pressure that had been building up in his body since the moment you spotted him is taken off at once, and he finds himself nodding enthusiastically with your absolutely oblivious proposition. Thank the stars that you even noticed a fact so minuscule, or else he would’ve had nothing else to go off for an explanation besides a prayer.

“Yup, he’s my guy, that’s for sure!” He hurriedly agrees, shooting you a thumbs up that makes him want to disappear into a dark hole for eternity. “He’s fixed me up a couple times—just small things! But he’s always a big help, you know.”

“God, I can’t believe it! Peter knows the actual Spider-Man. And he didn’t even tell me! For how long? I mean, if you don’t want to say that’s fine too, it’s just…this is so crazy.”

The boy in question watches on quietly as you start firing off your thoughts one by one, a low chuckle escaping his lips at your mindless rambling and incessant theorizing. You pick up on his staring after a few minutes, however, and a sheepish look quickly overtakes your features as your gaze returns to him.

“Sorry,” you cough out, unconsciously wringing your hands together. “Peter isn’t here at the moment, but he’ll probably be back soon if you need something. I can call him if it’s urgent. And I won’t bother you, promise.”

A rush of warmth floods his chest at your gentle concern. “Oh, it’s alright. If he’s not here I’ll just, ya’ know…get myself sorted back at home base.”

“Are you sure? It feels like you wouldn’t have stopped in if it wasn’t necessary.”

He panics, waving his arms around. “I’m sure! Just a cut or two, but nothing I can’t handle.”

As soon as the word cut leaves his lips, Peter knows he’s screwed up. Your eyes flash with that all-too-familiar empathy, and all of a sudden you’re approaching him, closing the distance between you to just a few feet.

“Listen,” you sigh, and he already knows where you’re headed, “I can help you, even if they’re just small injuries you need looked at. Stick around for a bit, at least? Even just to rest?”

Every bit of hesitation in him dissipates at your sweet insistence, and the way your face lights up at his reluctant nod makes it all worth it in the moment. You beckon him over with a small wave, taking a gentle hold of his arm and sitting him down on the edge of the bed—his bed, to be exact. As you settle down beside him, a hint of nervousness ever-present in your features, the smell of your body wash hits him almost immediately; it’s the one he got you a new supply of for your birthday, the one with a stupid name that he spent way too long trying to find at the mall. Peter fights the urge to shake his mind of the memory when a stupid smile begins to curl on his lips.

God, why of all times does he have to think about that? How does he even know your care products by scent? You don’t even know that behind this stupid mask of his is your best friend, who’s feeling more and more shame-filled by the second. You’re completely blind to the fact that he’s seen you more than once in the past few months—not just as Spider-Man, but as your classmate. You aren’t even aware that he’s started to fall in love with you—

“So, where’s it hurt the most?”

Peter blinks, finding your attentive stare focused right on his unmoving face. “Oh! Um, I think I got grazed on my collarbone.”

“Okay. Would you mind, maybe showing me where it is so I can clean it?”

He startles a bit in recognition of your request, but he gives you an affirmative nod nonetheless. You turn away for a moment to sift through the clutter on his desk, allowing Peter the opportunity to tug down the collar of his suit just enough to reveal a nasty looking laceration right below his neck. To his relief, it doesn’t appear to go very deep (although it would likely be worse if not for his conveniently quick recovery times), and while his skin has stained itself with dried blood, it’s clearly nothing fresh. Regardless, the wound seems to sting the longer he looks at it, and he hisses when he brings a gloved finger up to trace the broken skin.

You’re quick to return to his side, a scavenged pack of rubbing alcohol, ripped cloth, and a half-empty box of adhesive bandages in your hands that you’ve managed to find amidst his other things. Peter can’t help thinking that he needs to start hiding that stuff better.

“Careful,” you chastise him lightly, gingerly moving his hand away from the cut. “You don’t wanna get more dirt in it.”

“Sorry,” he says. “Thanks, by the way.”

“It’s no problem. The least I could do for the friendly neighborhood hero, although you did scare the hell out of me.”

You’re joking, but a twinge of regret still swirls in his gut. Peter completely forgot you were coming over today for a cheesy movie night, something you’d repeatedly begged to do with him ever since the idea crossed your mind months prior. And now, on the day you finally convinced him to agree? Now you’re treating his injuries in his own room, completely unaware that he’s lying to you straight through his teeth.

He decides that at the very least, maybe he could put on his Spidey charm and entertain you for a while. Even if for a sparing moment or two.

“So, you think I’m a hero?” He jokes back, and he can’t help admiring the way your face contorts into flustered embarrassment.

“I mean,” you splutter, staring holes into the bottle that you flick open with a resounding pop, “you save people a lot, so I’d say you’ve earned the title.”

“Well I’m flattered that you think so highly of me—uh…”

Peter barely catches himself before your name can come rolling off his tongue, but he plays it off with as much charisma as possible, peering at you through those big white eyes of his mask as if awaiting your response. Thankfully, he gets one, and he even tests the pronunciation of it for good measure.

Way to cover, man.

“Pretty,” he comments, not fully understanding the weight that such easygoing compliments can have on you. While on the outside you manage to retain an air of confident coolness, your train of thought is already chugging away into a world of over-exaggerated imaginations, as you’re not well versed at handling such unabashed flattery from anyone, let alone this vigilante who’s probably the most famous person in Queens. You opt to wave him off, muttering a low-volume thank you as you drip rubbing alcohol onto a cleaner part of the cloth in your grasp.

Peter presses on, not wanting to leave anything hanging in the air, lest this conversation be made more uncomfortable than it currently is.

“So, how do you know Peter?”

You perk up at the casual inquiry, the mention of your closest friend very quickly reminding you that this was, in fact, his place. Technically his Aunt May’s, but you very much doubted she knew about this little arrangement between her nephew and Spider-Man.

“Well, he’s my best friend, and we’ve known each other since freshman orientation of high school—try not to tense up, this might sting a bit—” you’re right, it does, and he suppresses the urge to writhe away from your grasp like some sort of child, “but it feels like I’ve known him longer, you know?”

“I can understand what you mean,” he says, although it’s slightly muffled by the way he bites the inside of his cheek.

“Is it similar for you and him?”

“I suppose you could say that. Though, I doubt I’m as close with him as you seem.”

You dab delicately at the already healing gash, a hint of a smile on your face. “We spend a lot of time together, that’s for sure. His aunt says we’re attached at the hip.”

Peter chuckles lightly. Of course you recall May’s badgering from when you two started to hang out on a frequent basis. While he was exasperatedly trying to nudge his lovely guardian into the kitchen before she could make any further implications about your relationship with one another, you simply shot him an amused smile, assuring him that she was a lovely woman and that you didn’t mind her amiable nature in the slightest. Your kindness that day still made him fuzzy, knowing that you felt comfortable around his family—unconventional as their living situation was.

A beat of silence falls over the room as Peter quietly watches you work. Your touch is so careful, trying to avoid his discomfort with as much consideration as possible, as if he’s not some masked guy who can stop a bus with his hands and who just took on multiple drunk idiots at once. You’re clearly apprehensive to let your fingers even touch his bare skin at all, only letting the soaked cloth press against his collarbone with thought-out precision.

It’s most likely because you want to avoid infecting the cut, but he can’t help wanting to feel the warmth of your hands anyway.

God, can his internal thoughts shut up for five minutes? Apparently not, because at this point his palms are growing clammy (not a good combination with a spandex costume, he discovers), and he’s practically itching to take your hands in his own, scrapes and bruises and secret identities be damned. He elects that asking another question will suffice as an alternative.

But then you’re peeling off the backing of a jumbo bandage and smoothing it out over his skin, and every nerve in his system jumps at the contact he’s been wanting but thought incapable of actually receiving.

What was he doing again? Right, asking a question. Something resembling an icebreaker. Maybe nothing too cheesy, but something standard.

“Are you dating anyone?”

Not that question.

Although it takes a moment for his words to register in your mind, Peter can tell they have as soon as your eyes widen, your hands freezing against his chest like a deer caught in headlights. He’s surprised that you’re not already running for the door screaming at this rate—a faceless guy of who-knows-what age asking if you’re in a romantic relationship, with the only saving grace being that your best friend allegedly helps him out sometimes. Rather, you simply avert your gaze to the wall, an awkward laugh bubbling in your throat.

“Not at the moment, no,” you tell him (and he doesn’t notice, but heat is creeping up from the base of your neck at an alarming rate). To his surprise, your words still hold an air of teasing confidence. “Who’s asking?”

“I—well,” he blanches, at a complete loss—and he’s quite nearly prepared to smack himself in the face at any moment, “I was just curious.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Spidey, but there’s someone else I’m into right now.”

Peter’s brows furrow. “Who?”

Wait. Too personal.

But you’ve never told him about anyone you’ve liked recently. The last time you’d ever brought up something like that was back in sophomore year, when Curtis Manfred was in that biology class with you and got you coffee on exam mornings. That never lasted though, seeing as he started dating some freshman you didn’t bother to share the name of soon thereafter.

Peter never liked Curtis. But that’s besides the point.

“Sorry,” he tacks on. “I doubt I even know who it is.”

You wave it off, smoothing out the edges of his bandage with much more deliberation than truly necessary. “It’s alright. Honestly, it’s probably the one person from my life that you do know.”

Peter freezes completely.

His heart rises to his throat, his every sense going haywire as if screaming ‘trouble!’ in big bold letters. Except, instead of realizing that something terrible is about to come his way, he’s left with the building realization that he might have just gotten confessed to. He decides to check just in case.

“You mean…you mean Peter?” he inquires, “As in Peter Parker?”

You finally meet his eyes again—well, as much as you can with that costume of his—and nod, offering him a sheepish smile.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

“I don’t know why I told you that,” you admit, blowing out a puff of air and giggling. “I think the mask thing makes it easier to be honest with you.”

“No! No, it’s fine!” and now his voice is two octaves higher than it began. “How long have you, uh, liked him for? I mean—if I can ask that.”

“Two years? I think it’s two now.”

“Wow. What’s made you like him for so long?”

“He’s just really sweet, you know? And smart. I’m sure you get that since you’ve known him for a while now too. And, y’know, he’s really cute. Dorky.”

You pause for a moment, realizing that the vigilante in front of you has barely moved a centimeter since your spiel began. It feels oddly tense, but you’re not really sure why.

You clear your throat, moving your hands away from him and back to your sides. “But anyways! That bandage should hold fine, but you might want to swap it out in a day or two. Do you need anything else looked at, or…?”

He still doesn’t move, and now you’re growing anxious. Did you say something you shouldn’t have? Was this way too familiar for just meeting the guy, who hours ago was simply a figure on your television? Was he going to tell Peter?

Before you can utter another word, Spider-Man is tugging his mask off, and in a matter of seconds you’re staring right at your best friend.

This time, it’s your turn to nearly pass out.

“Peter?” You’re practically whispering, and the shock in your face is clear as day. Not to mention, you can feel the embarrassment flaring on your face like a scalding lick of flames that just won’t burn out.

His hickory brown stare bores into yours without remorse, and he leans forward to grab your hand, pulling it towards his chest again. His hair is terribly ruffled in the best of ways, and even hours of doing the rounds through New York City have left his face without as much of a scrape, at least on this particular night. His thumb brushes the back of your knuckles with a tenderness that makes your stomach erupt with butterflies, and a gentle smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“You mean it?” He says, just as quietly as you spoke his name.

A permanent warmth settles in your cheeks, and you figure that holding back anything else is out of the question now. “Of course I do. What about you?”

Peter doesn’t give you any time to be nervous once he leans into you fully, bringing you forward by the hand and catching your lips with his. You barely have enough time to inhale, let alone get a word out before you melt into him, a breathy laugh the only thing you can manage when a gloved hand reaches up to cradle the base of your jawline. In a word, everything about the kiss is soft, and Peter is very evidently over the moon.

Your arms wind their way around his shoulders, getting pulled further against him and into his lap—right until you accidentally bump the spot on his collarbone that you just managed to clean, which is proven still sore when Peter fails to conceal a huff of discomfort against your lips.

“Alright,” you scold playfully, flashing him a knowing look, “don’t strain yourself.”

“Come on,” he groans, brushing your nose against his, still holding you by the waist, “I’m a friendly neighborhood hero, right? I can take it.”

“Nice try. Maybe you should enlighten me a bit more on that whole Spider-Man thing first, hm?”

Peter drops his head back to stare at the ceiling, a dazed smile lighting up his face. “I thought it was cheesy movie night.”

You can’t help laughing. “I cannot believe you.”

“I’m not hearing a no.”

When he tilts his chin down again, he finds you looking right back at him, a glimmer of admiration in your eyes that makes his breath catch. You cup his face in your hands without a second thought, and he willingly relents to your touch without a moment’s hesitation, the urge to kiss you again settling in the back of his mind.

“Movie first, and then we’re talking,” you concede, affection laced in each word. “God, Peter. You’re incredible.”

He just smiles, shaking his head lightly. “And you’re everything to me.”

Peter Parker spotted you four times as Spider-Man this week, and now he’s got a brand new stock of first-aid materials stowed away in his closet. Plus, he’s got a date scheduled for next Thursday that he sure as hell won’t be forgetting.

[skeepdotexe]

PEOPLE 

NEED

TO

STOP

GIVING

ANDREW

GARFIELD

CHILDREN

.

PLEASE

[skeepdotexe]

Three Little Words

Summary: Peter is determined to tell the reader he loves her. Here are the three times he tries, and then one time he finally gets it out.

Warning: Some language, sexual innuendos (no smut, not yet), a little angst, reader has a nickname. Just a lot of fluff. I didn't proofread, so I apologize

Follow up to Glad You're Home (you will want to read it otherwise this won't make sense)

“So when you’re gonna tell her?”

“Is this a question or another Tik Tok thing?” Either way, Peter find Miles’ timing to be awful considering they were in the midst of going after a pair of robbers.

“It was a question….but that is a line from a song that was in Top 40 radio, so you’re improving!” Peter didn’t expect to get a lot of Miles’ pop references-considering the ten plus age gap-but when MJ started teasing him about living under a rock, he wanted to do better.

MJ.

Despite three months of dating, there were still times he had to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming. That all this was real. He could easily get behind the multiverse being real, the fact that there were other Peter Parkers-who also were Spider-Man-that existed in other universes. That was easy for him to wrap his head around. What he couldn’t wrap his head around was the older Peter’s suggestion that there was someone out there for him. It was just easier to accept that he was an outlier, that he didn’t have an MJ, that he already had a soulmate, and she was long gone.

And then he saw her. She was breathtaking, which was honestly the main reason he tried leaving at first when during their initial meeting because he knew if he stayed, he was going to be absolutely smitten by those bright eyes and smile that lit up the room by the end of the night.

But she refused to let him go, which made no sense in his mind until he heard that nickname, which simultaneously made everything in his mind click and send it into overdrive because shit that was MJ, his MJ, who was only inches away from his face, tending to his wounds.

“So do you have a plan yet on how you’re going to tell her that you love her or you going to wing it….no pun intended?” Miles asked, dodging a huge piece of metal that had been thrown at him.

“I have a plan.”

“Like an actual plan…..or like the ‘plan’ you had when you tried to ask her out?” Miles asked. Peter was glad he had a mask on so no one could see his redden face.

“Hey stranger, what brings you here?” You asked after opening up the window. You were surprised that it was Peter, not Miles, standing outside on your fire escape. He appeared to be in much better health compared to when he was brought to your place the night before. It was strange to see him outside of that spandex suit

“I…I wanted to bring back the clothes I borrowed,” He said, holding up a folded shirt and pair of sweatpants.

“Did you swing around while carrying clothes? Because that would be impressive, although slightly impractical.” You said, stepping outside to join him.

“No, I….I have my backpack. I keep all my stuff in it,” He pointed to the one he was carrying, “You were joking, weren’t you?”

You giggled, “Little bit. So is there a reason why you’re giving me these clothes?” You paused, “And not Miles? The owner of said clothes?”

Shit. He didn’t think this through.

“Uh, I figured…you know you see him more than I do, and this way, you can……” He stumbled, face turning red.

“Do you want to go grab lunch?” You asked, hoping to put the poor guy out of his misery. It was clear that the plan was to come over and talk to you. And the beginning of the plan was really good. He just hadn’t thought it all the way through.

He sighed, relieved that she was able to pick up on what he was trying to do, “Yes. I would love that.”

“Awesome. There’s this new Italian place I’ve been wanting to try, but it’s a date spot so I didn’t want to go without a date,” You explained as you began to crawl back into your apartment.

“Date?” He squeaked out. You looked back, a grin forming on your face.

“Yes, that is usually what you call it when two people have kissed each other and go out to lunch. Is that okay?” You asked. You would be really surprised if he wasn’t okay with it, but now would be the best time to find out.

“That is….more than okay.”

She was the one to initiate a date. Peter was thankful because it had been so long since he dated that he had no idea what he was doing. Usually his strong suit was quick comebacks and witty remarks, but his brain felt like cotton whenever he saw her. It wouldn’t be the last time MJ had to initiate things.

“So….this isn’t sushi?” He asked. You rolled your eyes because this was the fifth time he asked.

“Peter, it’s called Poke,” You explained before taking a bite of your bowl.

“It’s Hawaiian,” Miles added.

“But….it contains rice, raw fish, and stuff like avocado and seaweed.”

“Yes, those are common toppings people put on a Poke bowl.” You weren’t sure why he was having such a hard time grasping the concept. It was also entirely possible he was being an ass on purpose to get you to crack.

“No, those are things you put in sushi.” Peter remarked.

“He’s not wrong,” Miles whispered to you.

“Okay…fine. But sushi usually has all these things wrapped up and sliced into neat little rolls. This is not a neat little roll,” You motioned to your bowl.

“So, it’s deconstructed sushi. Why don’t they just call it that?” He remarked. You could see the smirk forming on his face.

“Because it’s not sushi. It’s Poke,” You held up your fork, as if that would make him realize he was wrong.

“It literally has all the same ingredients as sushi, it’s just in a bowl!”

“Why are you so upset about this?” Miles asked.

“Because it’s sushi! It should just be called sushi!”

“Wow, I didn’t know my boyfriend was so adamant about the name of a food he won’t even eat.” Your eyes widen and your hand flew up to cover your mouth. You two had been dating for a little over a month but had yet to label things.

“What did you call me?” Peter asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“I have to pee, I’ll be back,” Miles said, getting up quickly so he could watch from the sides without being involved. He would say he wanted to stay out of the drama, but the truth was he couldn’t pick between the two of you if his life depended on it.

You looked up to make eye contact with your favorite bug boy. It was time to own it.

“Boyfriend. That is what I’ve been calling you whenever anyone in my apartment tries to set me up with their nephew or delivery guy. At first it was to emphasize that I wasn’t interested, but also because,” You paused, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

His face was hard to read. It reminded you of the look he had when he discovered your nickname the night you two had met.

After what felt like an eternity, he grabbed your free hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

“I would like that too,” He said softly. You see his eyes beginning to water and could imagine the wide range of emotions he was experiencing. You knew this was a big deal for him, which was why you hadn’t been pushing the need to label things.

“YES! Finally!” You two turned around to see Miles standing by the soda foundation machine, first in the air.

Peter hadn’t minded when she initiated their first date. Nor did he mind it that she had initiated the boyfriend-girlfriend conversation. But there was a saying: once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but three times is a pattern. And it definitely became a pattern for her to take charge when it came to many firsts in their relationship.

You two were watching a movie. You texted Miles, telling him specifically to not show up. You had on the lowest cut t-shirt you owned and the jeans that made your ass incredibly difficult to ignore. You had your head in his lap, playing with the ties of his sweatpants. You really thought it could not get more obvious than this.

And somehow, Peter Parker remained oblivious to all your hints. You were pretty sure if you took your top off right now, he would just ask if you were feeling warm and offer to turn on your AC.

So it was time for Plan B.

You sat up and swung a leg over him, straddling his waist.

“I need you to rail me,” You enunciated every word, refusing for there to be any misinterpretation.

He heard you loud and clear. It was obvious by his widen eyes and shaky hands that were resting on your hips.

“Oh?” Was all he could squeak out.

“Now. I need you to fuck me. Now.” You breathed heavily. He nodded his head and before you knew it, his hands were gripping your thighs, allowing him to stand up and carry you to the bedroom.

She had initiated a lot. And while that was one of the many things he loved about her, Peter couldn’t help but feel…lesser. Like he wasn’t pulling his weight. You had created all these memorable, magical moments and he just wanted to do the same.

Which was why Peter was determined to say it first. He wanted to be the first one to say those three big words. He knew you felt the same way and were just holding it back-trying to take things slow since this was his first relationship in years. He needed you to know that you were the best part of his day, of his life.

“Are you going to tell her tonight after her show?” Miles asked. Peter looked up to see the two robbers were properly webbed, no way of escaping.

“I mean, I don’t know if that’s the best time,” Peter started.

“That’s the perfect time!” The two looked up to see one of the robbers looking down at them, the other nodding in agreement.

“Have….have you been listening to our whole conversation?” Peter asked, unsure whether to be embarrassed or upset.

“We were curious. It sounds like you really like this girl.”

“Uh yeah…I do, but it’s not exactly something I tend to talk about with the people I’m fighting with.”

1.

As much as Peter didn’t want to admit it, those robbers had a point. Tonight would be a good time to tell her. He and Miles were seeing the show she was currently in. He had flowers, had put on a suit jacket and tie. If there was any time to tell her, it was tonight after the show.

“Alright, I’ll stay back here. You tell her that you love her, you kiss, then I’ll hug the both of you and remind you how Miles Parker is a great name for a kid.”

Peter groaned, covering his face in the flowers so no one could see how red it was.

“I’m just saying-“

“Miles.”

“It’s a great name and a great way to honor the person who brought you together.”

“You realize in order for that to happen, I have to tell her I love her, she says it back, and then we have to get married. You do realize that’s a long process right?”

“I’m aware Peter. But it’s always good to start thinking about these things now-“

“Please just stay behind.”

“Peter!” He looked up to see you standing there, backstage. You were still in your costume, running towards him.

“I got you bro…..over there,” Miles said, running off. At least he was now picking up when the two should be alone.

You stopped running once you were several inches away from him. It wasn’t the first time a significant other had seen you perform, but something about looking out in the crowd and seeing him, seeing Peter with that big, lovesick grin you loved so much, was exhilarating.

“Are those for me?” You asked, pointing to the flowers. There were sunflowers, your favorite.

“Actually, they’re for the crew, I was just blown away by their performance.” You laughed, playfully grabbing his shoulder (you could never hit him-even if it was pretend). He leaned in, bending a bit so you and him were at eye level.

“You’re incredible, has anyone ever told you that?” He whispered. You were thankful you still had your stage makeup on, which made it harder for people to tell if you were blushing.

“Yes….but I like hearing it from you,” You teased. You leaned in to close the gap because you were tired of waiting. It had been maybe six hours since you last kissed him and yet it felt like the first time again. You broke away for air and he rested his forehead against your’s.

“MJ, I-“

His sentence was cut off by a cast member calling-no, yelling-your name. You broke away to see your cast motioning for you to join them back on stage, most likely to take a group photo.

You sighed, “I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back. I promise.” Before he could say anything, you ran off, wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Peter sighed. The moment had come and gone. He would have to tell you another time. Maybe it was for the best? You probably wanted this to happen in a more private setting.

As soon as the picture was taken, you ran back to him, your eyes gleaming.

“What was it that you were trying to tell me before we were interrupted?”

“Oh, nothing. Just….I’m amazed by you,” He said softly.

“I’m so happy for you guys!” Seemingly out of nowhere, Miles was there, wrapping the two into a group hug-which was a common occurrence.

“Uh….why?” You asked, not seeing the daggers Peter was sending with his eyes, along with mouthing the word ‘No’.

“Why? Because,” He made eye contact with Peter and his eyes widen, “Oh. Because…you guys are just great together. You know, as soon as Peter told me he was single, I knew you would be great for him, MJ.”

“If you’re asking to make a speech at our wedding again,” You started, “I already said yes.”

“I’m sorry, you told him he could do what now?” Peter asked. You laughed as you motioned for the two to come back to your dressing room. You weren’t completely serious, but seeing Peter’s reaction to you mentioning the idea of your wedding was always fun to see.

-------

2.

“Babe, you know the recipe only calls for three cloves of garlic. You do know that, right?” Peter asked as his wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I’m aware. And the recipe is wrong,” You said as you peeled another clove.

“Is there a vampire I should be on the lookout for?” He asked, pressing his nose into your hair.

“I just like garlic. Garlic makes everything better,” You remarked.

“Yeah, except your breath,” He muttered into your hair.

“Oh please, like you would go without kissing me,” You said, walking over to the trash can to toss out the scraps of garlic skin.

You felt something sticky latch onto your hip. Before you could say his name, you were back in his arms. You had a love/hate relationship with his web shooters. It terrified you, but was also insanely attractive when he used them on you.

“You….” He paused, trying to think of a comeback, “….are not wrong.” You threw your head back to laugh. He leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your neck. You wrapped your arms around his back so you could stay like this. Stay in his arms as he pressed soft kisses up your neck, up your chin, and finally, to your lips.

“Peter,” You sighed into his lips. It took every ounce of you to not say those three words. You didn’t want to be the first. You wanted him to say it when he was ready.

“MJ,” You leaned your head back so you could see his face, “I….I-“

“It smells amazing in here! What are we making tonight?” Peter closed his eyes to take a deep breath, as that was the only thing that could stop him from yelling at the kid.

“Teriyaki chicken,” You told your neighbor.

“Please don’t encourage him,” Peter whispered to you. He would give Miles a hard time later for interrupting a moment he knew the kid wanted to happen, once you were out of earshot.

---

3.

“You know, it would have taken us less time if we had just swung to the top,” Peter said as he climbed what seemed to be an endless set of stairs.

“I’m still reeling from that time when Miles swung me around,” You told him, looking back to smile.

“No offense to Miles, but he’s still working on swinging around,” Peter commented.

“How’s this, you can swing me around….from your Aunt May’s doorstep to the street,” You offered.

“That’s a waste of my web shooters,” He retorted, pretending to be offended.

“So is this view truly the best view of New York City? Because I usually like to burn my thighs in a different way,” You smirked, raising an eyebrow.

He was thankful that they finally reached the top, mainly so he didn’t need to respond to how much she liked having sex with him, because the thought still made him speechless.

“Alright, here we are,” He said, opening the door. You had long heard of his favorite spot, but until now you had only heard about it, never seen it in person.

Having lived in New York City for nearly ten years, you’d thought that you had seen all the breathtaking sights by now.

“Wow,” was all you could say as you stepped out onto the rooftop. It was easy to understand why this was his favorite spot. It was quiet, the sounds of cars and people below making great white noise. It was subtle, reminding you they were still there but not overpowering. All the different colors of the lights below blended, creating a beautiful illusion.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him. You looked up to see him with that smile that made you weak at the knees every damn time.

“Thanks for taking me to your spot Tiger,” You whispered, blushing as he pushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“Of course. I figured it was time I share my favorite spot with my favorite person,” You rested your chin on his chest, looking up at him. The sight of you, looking up at him with your big, bright eyes, made his heart flutter.

He cradled your face in his hands, stroking your jaw with his thumb.

“Hey tiger,” You whispered. It was moments like this you wouldn’t trade for the world. The world got to see Spider-Man, but you had Peter Parker. Peter, who was so sweet, so gentle and just full of devotion and adoration for you.

“I….I never thought I would feel this way about someone again.” You nodded your head, encouraging him to keep talking. Since you knew about him being Spider-Man from the get-go, it made things easier to talk about. Specifically, the past you two had before meeting each other.

“If someone had told me a few months ago I would be feeling this way, I would have told them they’re crazy. But….now you’re here. And I-“

An array of sirens-both police and ambulances- interrupted him this time. You groaned in frustration.

“You have to get that, don’t you?” You muttered into his chest.

“No, Miles said he could do the patrol himself tonight.” It wasn’t so much that he said he would, moreso that Peter asked him to.

“That was nice of him. What…what were you saying before we were rudely interrupted by the NYPD?” You asked, getting a chuckle out of him. He leaned down to gently kiss your hand that was he holding.

“What I’ve been trying to say is, MJ, I-“

This time it was his cell phone that interrupted. The catchy jingle, alerting him that something Spider-Man related was on the other line.

“You…should probably get that,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. You knew something serious was going on if Miles was calling him while on duty.

It took everything in Peter not to throw his phone off the Empire State Building. He begrudgingly picked up, “Yes Miles?”

“Hey man, you know how I said I got it tonight?”

“Yes Miles, I remember that. Very clearly.”

“Well, I don’t have it.”

Peter sighed, “I’ll be there in five minutes.” He hung up and grabbed your waist.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m not going to make you walk down all those stairs. That would make me a horrible boyfriend,” He said, making sure you were secure in his arm.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, don’t you fucking dare-“ Too late. You were flying and didn’t feel bad how loud you screamed in his ear.

-------

4.

Waiting was the worst part. You knew he would do his best to be safe-he made more of an effort to keep himself safe while fighting since you two started dating-but the possibility of him not returning was always in the back of your mind.

You had to force yourself to sit on the couch, your back to the fire escape. Looking at it would just make things worse. You tried reading a book, but his words just kept replaying over and over in your head.

“What I’ve been trying to say is, MJ, I-”

You wanted to throw his phone off the building so badly. You had a strong feeling what his next words were going to be, and you were desperate to hear them.

You still worried. Even though it was faint, and their appearance was rare, you could still hear that voice in the back of your head, telling you that this was too good to be true. That he didn’t feel the same way, that you were just a steppingstone. That one day he would find someone else, and you would be left in the dust, just like before.

It was why you had been so careful not to say it first. You didn’t want him to feel any pressure, to feel like he had to say it just because you said it. You wanted it to be genuine, for it to happen when he was ready.

The tapping of your window broke you away from your thoughts. You looked up to see him and relief filled your body. You ran over to the window, opening it so he could come in.

“You okay?” You asked, scanning his body for any injuries. You noticed some minor cuts, nothing too awful.

“You should see the other guy,” He laughed as he came in. He’s had a key for about a month now, but he never used it.

“I hope you gave him a punch for me. You know, for ruining our date and all,” You said as you inspected the cut on his upper chest. It seemed to be the worst one he had tonight, the one that would require some attention. You grabbed his hand to lead him back to your couch, your first aid kit already on the coffee table.

“I may have,” He said as he sat down.

“Alright Tiger, you know the drill.”

“You know, I think at this point in our relationship you can just ask me to take off my clothes for you.”

You rolled your eyes as you got the bandages and wipes. He rolled his suit down so that you could get a clear look at the cut. You began to clean it up with the wipes, because you will be damned if he gets an infection.

He couldn’t help but notice how cute you were when you focused on something. Your nose would scrunch up, your eyes narrowed in on whatever it was you were doing. He noticed it right away when he first met you, as you were tending to his wounds.

“Do you know why I wanted to leave that night we first met?” He asked. You stopped, looking up at him.

“Because…you were afraid of me knowing your identity,” He made that very clear.

“No.”

“No?”

“I knew if I stayed, I would be head over heels for you by the end of the night. I….you were so beautiful and warm and the idea of having feelings like that terrified me.” He didn’t hide how terrifying this was for him. How it had been so long since he had been with someone, that he had been able to convince himself that he wouldn’t have someone, that he didn’t deserve it.

“I’m glad I didn’t let you go,” You said, a small smile creeping across your face.

“Me too,” He whispered. You grabbed a bandage because you really wanted to kiss him. You placed it on his chest, knowing that would keep it from bleeding further, which would allow him to heal faster. As soon as it was on, he pulled you into him. You rested your forehead on his, feeling at peace now that he was safe and back in your arms.

“What’s up baby?” You asked. Touch was Peter’s love language, but something was different tonight.

“I never thought this would be possible,” He said softly into your shoulder.

“What would be possible?”

“You.” You almost wanted to turn away due to the intensity of his gaze, “You….healed a cold, bitter heart. You loved me back to life. I don’t want to imagine where I would be without you.”

You wanted to make some sarcastic comment, so you could quickly wipe away the tears forming in your eyes. But you knew it was no use-he could hear your heart beat from a mile away.

“I love you so much and I’ve been trying to tell you that for the last two days because I….I need you to know. I love you.” It was all over when you saw his eyes were glassy, just like yours.

“Peter, I love you too,” it felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. You had been keeping those words inside of you for so long and now you felt free to say it.

It was hard to kiss when you both had a huge smile on your faces, but you made it work. He gently hooked a finger around your chin, which allowed him to place sweet, small kisses all over your face, declaring his love for you between every kiss. You laughed, trying to chase after his mouth with your’s.

In that moment, only the two of you existed. Just the two of you, in your apartment, on the couch that was the focal point of that fateful night where Peter Parker was brought to you and you fell in love with each other.

[skeepdotexe]

Glad You’re Home (TASM! Peter Parker x fem!reader)

Summary: You’ve known Miles Morales for years. You knew high school would be an interesting time for him. What you didn’t know was that would involve him becoming Spider-Man’s protégé. Nor did you know it would involve him bringing an injured Spider-Man to your apartment one night for you to take care of.

Warnings: Fluff, descriptions of injuries, hint of angst, mild sexual innuendos and lots of flirting. Reader also has a nickname. Set after No Way Home. Reader and Peter are in their 20s (post college).

Notes: I haven’t written in literal years, but couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Shoutout to @lipstickbisous​ for inspiring me to write the fluff you want to see in the world. 5.5K words later and here we are. 

Part two is up!

You were beginning to prep dinner when you got his text.

MM: Hey, you home?

Yeah. Why?

MM: Need your help. Be outside in 5.

Keep reading

[skeepdotexe]

Overheard (TASM!PeterParker x Reader)

Summary: A moan—soft and quiet and muffled by closed glass, but very clearly coming from the other side of the velvety curtains that were blocking his view into your room. Shit. Peter gulped. Did you have a guy over? He hadn't known you'd been seeing anyone, and the thought of his best friend rolling around in the sheets with a guy he hadn't even met somehow set a flame of something ablaze in the pit of his stomach.

Words: 1.7k

A/N: lots of cursing, non-graphic but includes unseen masturbation, sexual innuendo, flirty best friends, making out & implied sex; college-aged characters

Peter's feet landed firmly on the rickety metal of your fire escape; perhaps a bit too firmly, the rusted metal creaking dangerously beneath him. He frowned—your apartment was old and rundown, but, as you mentioned each time he expressed his concerns, it was rent-controlled and much better than your childhood home in "Bumfuck Nowhere" as you so affectionally called your hometown.

He'd texted you just minutes earlier before leaving his place—it was several blocks away, but the trip was quick when superhuman agility and web-shooters were involved, so he slipped his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and checked to see if you'd replied—you hadn't.

Your curtains were drawn, which was odd. Peter knew you loved the way the sunlight filtered between the buildings and seeped into your bedroom, creating a small patch of warmth right where you'd placed that ratty old wingback chair you'd made him carry home from the Salvation Army for you. Plus, your window faced nothing but a crumbling brick wall and you claimed to love the aesthetic of urban decay.

Even if you hadn't seen his text, you'd presumably heard him landing outside your window, but the curtains remained opaque.

Peter was about halfway through processing the thought of possibly using the regular entrance to your apartment—he had a key, after all, though he'd never needed one—when he heard a sound that made his heart skip a beat and his cheeks turn deep crimson.

A moan—soft and quiet and muffled by closed glass, but very clearly coming from the other side of the velvety curtains that were blocking his view into your room.

Shit. Peter gulped. Did you have a guy over? He hadn't known you'd been seeing anyone, and the thought of his best friend rolling around in the sheets with a guy he hadn't even met somehow set a flame of something ablaze in the pit of his stomach.

Another moan, this one a little more desperate. Peter felt gross all of a sudden, but found himself frozen to the spot, overthinking the situation, as he chronically did when it came to you. It was something that couldn't be helped—he might have had super strength, but you were enough to make his knees go weak.

Still, this was invasive. It was weird. He would throw twenty-one questions at you later, when you weren't...doing whatever and whoever it was you were doing at that moment. Swallowing that odd little feeling the was clawing up his throat, Peter turned to go, but ice flooded through his veins at the next noise he heard.

Peter.

His name. Your voice. There was no doubt about it. What the fuck?

Peter allowed himself to listen, really listen, and his ears pricked at the sounds no other person would be able to hear from his current spot. The shuffle of skin writhing on soft sheets, the irregularity of quickened breath, a heartbeat like a hammer.

A heartbeat—just one. Besides his own, of course, which was currently going wild pulsing in his ears. You were alone in there. Alone with your thoughts and your fingers and his name on your lips.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Now he really had to go. The jealousy—for that was what it was—that had reared its ugly head only moments earlier had quickly shifted to something like excitement, a deep thrill, chased by a pang of shame that he had accidentally intruded on your most intimate of moments. You would absolutely murder him if you found out he'd been—

F-fuck. P—peter. It was a whimper this time, a barely there gasp.

His jeans suddenly felt tighter. Okay. He could do this. He'd slip away from the fire escape, walk around the block once, and then use the front entrance for the first time ever. That wasn't suspicious at all. He'd just stroll up the six flights of stairs to your floor, knock casually at your door, you'd pull yourself together and...well, no harm, no foul.

Peter nodded to himself and zoomed away as quietly as he could manage.

Meanwhile, coming down from a blissful high in your rumpled sheets, you reached toward your bedside table for your phone, eyes growing wide when you saw an unread message from Peter.

Just finished studying for Bio. Be there in 5.

It had been received 12 minutes ago and you knew when Peter said 5 minutes, he meant 3. Barring some psycho trying to burn New York to the ground, he'd arrived on your fire escape anywhere from 7 to 9 minutes ago when you'd been—

A knock at the door interrupted your train of thought and you blanched, all colour draining from your face as you rushed to throw on a pair of yoga shorts and an old t-shirt—for fucks sake, why were the only t-shirts in arm's reach ones you'd borrowed from Peter?

You knew it was him before you opened the door—no one else came to visit you. And if he was using the front door it meant he'd been detoured from using the fire escape window and that meant—jesus christ, it meant he'd heard you getting off to the thought of him.

"Hi," you breathed, trying to play it cool as you swung the door open to reveal Peter's face. He looked guilty as sin. He hadn't even been able to keep his secret identity from you, much less something as ridiculous as overhearing you masturbating.

"Hi," Peter replied, entering as you made space for him in the doorway. He avoided your gaze and your own eyes slid over his body, noting the way he faced away from you, hands hovering awkwardly near his crotch.

"Since when do you use the front door?" you asked lightly, closing and relatching the entrance in question. Peter shrugged, settling himself on your sofa—another piece courtesy of the thrift store. Initially, he'd hated the thing, but you'd restuffed the cushions to get the lumps out and now it smelled like you—vanilla and shortbread and old books and familiarity. It had even been christened with a tomato sauce stain from when he'd brought over Aunt May's lasagna that had never fully come out, even after two years.

"How was studying?" you asked, puttering uselessly around the kitchen and ignoring the heat on your cheeks, the odd fluttering in your stomach.

"Not bad," Peter answered, "I'll ace the test." You made a noise of acknowledgement in your throat. Of course he would—he was the smartest person you knew. "What have you been up to?"

Posing the question, it was the first time Peter met your eye since arriving, twisting himself to look over at you. There was mischief in his eyes, a daring look that said I know perfectly well what you were up to and I bet you won't tell me.

You decided to give him a run for his money. "I was thinking about that time we went to the beach last summer," you said coyly, a smirk tugging up at the corners of your lips, "Remember when we got so wasted we thought skinny dipping was a good idea?"

Peter half-laughed, half-gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing prominently in his throat. "I remember," he said, "I was scratching sand out of god forsaken places for days."

"Pete," you chuckled, "There's not a single god forsaken place on your body."

That turned him red—good. There was a beat of silence and before you could blink, he had you pressed between his body and the cold laminate countertop. Damn superhero abilities.

"I could say the same for you, Y/N." His lips were hovering just over yours and from the way his hips rested against you, you could feel a bulge pressing into your abdomen. Part of you wondered if you'd fallen into a post-orgasm dreamworld, but Peter's familiar scent grounded you, reminded you that this was all very real.

"You heard, didn't you?" you whispered, not breaking eye contact. Peter licked his lips, nodded once.

"I did," he confirmed, faltering for a moment, blinking as shame pained his beautiful features, "I'm sorry—I didn't—"

"Don't apologize," you said, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans and pulling him closer—if that were possible. "It's okay. It's...good." There, you'd put it out into the world. Your move, Parker.

"Yeah?" Peter's pupils had dilated and he'd leaned forward to press his forehead to your own. You swallowed thickly. He was as into this game as you were.

"Yeah," you repeated, "Because now I can do this." You kissed him, pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes to meet his lips. It wasn't the first time you'd kissed your best friend—not by a long shot—but it was the first time you'd kissed him like this, like your entire existence depended on it. He responded in kind, thumb coming up to caress your cheek as he deepened the kiss. He pressed himself further into you, using one had to lift you up onto the countertop. That in itself as enough to make you groan—he was so strong.

Peter settled himself between your thighs, kissing you with abandon, allowing his tongue to swirl against your own, pausing only to nip at your bottom lip, kiss along your jaw, bite gently on your ear lobe. For their part, your own hands skidded along his muscular arms, coming to rest on his shoulders and then at the nape of his neck, tugging at his mussed hair and eliciting a noise of approval from him. You found that you liked it very much and wondered what other noises you could get him to make.

Peter broke his lips away from you for a moment, the sheer willpower of such a pause making him light-headed. "You sounded so pretty," he said, "With my name on your lips."

Your mouth made a little "o" as you blushed deeply, the comment somehow innocent and lewd all at once. "Well," you replied, gathering yourself, "I hope you'll do me the kindness of letting me hear the same from you." The thought of your name falling from his lips in ecstasy had you shifting in your seat for some friction.

Peter smiled wickedly, "Oh, Y/N, I'll do you any kindness you want."

[skeepdotexe]

crush (peter parker)

summary: peter has been visiting you as spider-man long enough to develop a crush on you. the problem? you have a crush on somebody else.

notes: u guys…i love peter parker so much okay!!! also this is a short fic bc i have a longer one in the works. yes i realize this is 4k words but like, that’s short for me ok bye happy reading! 

also if you have a request, i’ll write a short blurb for it! you can send it in my ask box <3

warnings: typos, probably.

Peter Parker sat on the ledge of your fire escape, careful to avoid the patches of snow from the previous day. It had been a long night of patrolling and his lower back ached to no end. The familiar space spread warmth to Peter’s chest as he attempted to collect his breath, the inside of his suit scratching against his skin. 

It had been dark out for a few hours. Peter knew that May would be going to sleep in an hour, leaving the perfect opportunity for him to slip back into his bedroom undetected. He had lied to her earlier, saying that he’d be studying with a group of friends he had made at university earlier that semester. But he had other places he needed to be. 

He would be lying if he said his only reason for patrolling was to keep his city out of danger. While that was a big motivation for him to put his suit on, the other reason was because he wanted to see you.

Keep reading

[skeepdotexe]

touch

THIS IS NOT NO FREE USE SHIT YOU CAN NOT USE MY WORK

pairing(s): andrew garfield!peter parker x fem!reader

summary: you're trying to wait patiently until peter is done with his work but you just really want him to touch you

warning(s): 18+ content, fingering and unedited work

navigation | tasm!peter parker masterlist

You sat in Peter's lap picking at the end of your tennis skirt trying desperately not to move too much on his lap.

You watched him write down math problems on the paper you could hardly understand and all you wanted to ask was for him to touch you.

You were afraid to sound too needy though, too touch starved and you hated when you sounded that way so you kept your mouth shut trying to wait patiently until he was finished though you had been sitting here for what felt like hours and your wetness was getting too much to bare you could just get up and scream for him to fuck yo-

"Can you stop moving?" He asked though his voice almost sounded as if he was teasing you.

His hands were on your waist stopping you from squirming in his lap. Your eyes were wide as you avoided his gaze. It wasn't that you thought he would judge you or anything it was just-

You didn't know why you were being such a baby you could just ask him to touch you and he would probably say yes but you were so nervous and you weren't really experienced in this whole thing.

"Did you hear me?" You looked at him realizing he had said something that you hadn't listened to because you were too busy wallowing in your horniness.

"I'm sorry what?" You managed to get out he leaned closer to your ear "I said you're soaking up my pants" You practically jumped off his lap looking and realizing oh fuck there was a wet spot on his pants.

You wished the floor could just swallow you up.

You let out an embarrassed squeal covering you face but he only laughed grabbing your hands pulling it away from your face.

"It's okay Y/N" he said softly once he saw your face again "It's okay to be needy" his nose bumped against yours as his voice soothed you just a bit. "Do you want me to help you?"

You bit your lip nervously, your teeth dig into your skin until his thumb pulled your lip from your teeth running his thumb over your bottom lip "I hate it when you do that" he mumbled softly "Do you want me to help you? Do you?"

"Y-yeah" you gulped as he gave you a kind smile and you found yourself wondering how you were blessed with such a wonderful boyfriend.

"I will never understand why you're so nervous around me" he turned you around sitting you back on his lap just the way you were before "I've touched you plenty of times" he teased tickling your sides.

He pushed up your skirt spreading your legs causing them to fall around his thigh "Is this okay?" He asked like he had done so many times before not moving until he got your answer.

"Yes" you breathed out.

His fingers slid over the crotch of your panties causing you to gasp slowly. He placed soft kisses on your jaw while he massaged your clit through the soft material. He smiled as he heard soft whimpers leaving your pretty lips.

He would never get tired of listening to the sweet noises you make.

He pushed your panties to the side shoving a finger inside you and you let out a moan "Peter"

"Hmmm yes?"

"More" he chuckled pushing another finger inside you, you threw your head back against his shoulder giving him more access to your neck. He sucked onto your skin "Fuck" you pushed back against his hand that was quickly pushing his fingers in and out of you.

Your hand reached around digging in his hair your eyes closing as he dragged all the sweet noises out of you.

"You never have be afraid to ask" he mumbled into your ear fingerfucking you harder "I'll always touch you" he kissed your temple "I'll always fuck you" His fingers hit your g spot as he rubbed your clit harshly. You back arched at the feeling clenching around his fingers "All you gotta do is ask"

You felt your orgasm approaching "Peter I-"

"I know"

The room was filled with your soft whines and moans and the sound of your wetness. Stars filled your vision as you came on his fingers.

He fucked you through your high before he stopped letting you catch your breath pressing light kisses along your face telling you how amazing you are.

You bit into your lip running your fingers through his hair "You wanna play a game?" He asked and you hummed lightly looking at him over your shoulder seeing a smirk playing on his lips.

"Like what Parker?"

"Let's see how many times I can make you cum before I finish this paper" he tapped his pencil on the desk raising his eyebrows. "Unless you're too chicken and just can't handle it" he teased his thumb flicking over your clit and you scoffed "You challenging me?"

"Yep"

"You're on, I can fucking handle it"

"Sure you can"

a/n: omg im actually proud of this fic- it's been a long time since i wrote a smut so imma little rusty so this might be trash but tell me what you think and feel free to request. reblogs and comments are appreciated.

[skeepdotexe]

First Kiss

[Andrew Garfield Peter Parker x reader]

“Ugh! Why do you have to be so difficult!” You screamed at your math homework, practically throwing it across the room. You needed a break, so you decided sit on your balcony and get some fresh air.

You watched the city below you, your mind slowly calming down from the stress of your homework. You then saw a red and blue streak, swinging through the city. You smiled, recognizing the streak as Spider-Man. He had been around for almost a two years now. A while back he had disappeared, but he returned and continued to save the city.

Spider-Man had now disappeared into an alleyway and your gaze landed on the Empire State Building, it was beautiful and you loved living in New York.

Breaking you out of your day dreams, your phone started to ring from inside your bedroom, where your messy university homework laid. You went back inside and picked up your phone.

You smiled at the caller ID, “Hello Peter,” you said, running a hand through your hair and putting your right hand in the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hey, I’ll be over in a few minutes to study. I had to run a couple errands...” he trailed off, vaguely. You looked at your homework and then at yourself in the mirror, “Oh it’s fine, I was taking a break anyway,” you replied. He chucked, “Okay, see you in five,” he said, then hanging up.

You looked down at your phone, the picture of Peter you had taken in Central Park was your wallpaper. You blushed seeing his smiling face. Peter Parker was your best friend and your crush, but you know he didn’t feel the same way. Not only had he lost someone romantically close to him last year but you probably weren’t even his type.

In Peters eyes, you were exactly his type. He wanted to be more than just friends but he knew that some of his enemies knew who he really was, if they saw him getting close to someone he really cared about they could be a target. He didn’t want you to get hurt so he never asked you out or revealed his feelings. This was extremely hard for him to do, because you were so close, you always studied together.

Peter was mesmerized by you when you would study. The way you would chew on the top of your pen or pencil. The way you ran your hand through your hair when you were really concentrating. He loved everything about you and wanted so desperately to have you in his arms. But he needed to keep you safe, even if he knew you would never feel the same.

Peter had arrived just in time. You moved your homework to your kitchen table and made you and Peter each a glass of iced tea. Handing him the glass he mumbled a thank you. “So what question are you on?” Peter asked, looking next to you to see your paper. “Question five,” you huffed, the stress of the math problem coming back to you.

“Oh this is easy, you just have to find out how they got 243,” Peter explained. You looked at the problem again and it all became clear.

“Really, that’s it? Oh my god, you do, how the hell did I not see that before,” you laughed, taking your pencil and quickly solving the equation. Peter watched you as you worked out the problem, butterflies filled his stomach. You were absolutely adorable.

He giggled and you looked up, “What?” You asked, giggling yourself.

“Nothing,” Peter shrugged off.

You nudged him, “Oh come on, tell me,” you replied.

He shook his head, smiling, “I can’t, I want to but I can’t,” he admitted.

This made you more curious, “That doesn’t make any sense, Peter.” You said. “Just tell me,” you added.

“I think your laugh is adorable. I loved the way your eyes lit up when your figured out the solution to the problem. I think your the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and-,” he said, but you cut him off with your lips.

It was impulsive, yes, but he said all of those beautiful words with those big puppy dog eyes. How could you not kiss him. You began to pull away but he pulled you closer to him, kissing you back. It was sweet but then became passionate, like what happened after the ‘ they lived happily ever after’ title card.

You both pulled away for air, your lips swollen from kissing your best friend. “I’m-um, I didn’t mean to-wow,” you stuttered.

Peter nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah wow is um-right yeah,” he said, trying to focus on something else besides your lips.

You both instinctively leaned in again and another mini make out session began.

“This is probably not a good idea,” Peter whispered in between kisses.

“Why not?” You replied, confused.

“Well, we’re supposed to be studying,” he said, but really he didn’t want you to get hurt for being close to him.

“You helped me understand the problem. I’ll look at my notes again,” you shrugged, leaning into kiss him again.

Peter couldn’t take the guilt anymore and pulled away, “I can’t, I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing his jacket and leaving.

You watched him leave your apartment in shock , what the hell had just happened.

Four Days Later

After the kiss Peter ignored you. He wouldn’t answer any of your calls or texts. Finally you decided to just go over to his house. Knocking on the front door, Aunt May opened the door.

“Y/n, it’s wonderful to see you. Please come in,” she said sweetly. “Thank you. I’m here to see Peter. Is he here?” You asked.

Aunt May nodded, “Yes, I believe he’s in his room,” she replied. You said thank you again, then walking upstairs to Peter’s room.

It was closed so you knocked, “Peter, it’s Y/n. I need to talk to you,” you said.

No answer.

“Peter I want to apologize for any inconvenience I caused,” you added.

No answer.

You huffed under your breath, “Peter Parker, I’m sorry!” You yelled. You then noticed the door wasn’t fully closed and you lightly pushed it open, “Peter?” You asked. But no one was in the room.

The window was open, “Unbelievable,” you mumbled, upset.

As you turned to leave, a red and blue streak swung into the room. It was Spider-Man. He didn’t know you were there and he took off his backpack and then his mask. He turned around and you came face to face with your best friend.

“Oh my god,” you said in shock. Peter’s eyes went wide upon seeing you.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Your Spider-Man!!” You shrieked. He shushed you and fully closed his door. “Yeah,” he replied, still confused.

“Why are you here?” He asked. “I wanted to apologize for upsetting you after we kissed,” you admitted, a little embarrassed but still shocked that your best friend was Spider-Man.

“Y/n don’t be sorry. I liked kissing you, it was one of best kisses I’ve ever had. I just can’t be with you,” he said.

“Why? Because your Spider-Man,” you scoffed.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“That’s bullshit, Peter. We like each-other, why can’t we be together?” You asked.

“You could get put into danger because of me. You could get hurt,” he explained.

You huffed, waking closer to him, “I am not a damsel in distress,” you replied.

Peter walked closer to you, “I never said you were. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you because of me,” he said, putting his hand on your cheek.

“Nothing will happen to me. I’m staying, as long as you want me. I’m yours,” you said, embracing his touch.

“I want you,” Peter whispered, leaning into kiss you.

[skeepdotexe]

the beauty next door (peter parker x reader)

summary: your next-door neighbor is, to your surprise, always there for you when you need him

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angst, fluff, hint of language. this is a repost! (with a bunch of editing) but this fic will officially be considered a longer fic and no longer a drabble.

author's note: am i using an andrew garfield gif? fuck yea i am. but tbh w any of my peter fics you can imagine whichever peter you want to imagine. obviously most fics are more mcu, but from now on most of my peter fics are going to be flexible meannningg you could imagine it's tom, andrew or even play station peter :)

also hey mutuals i tagged in this, please lmk if you're okay or not okay w being tagged! it's been a while and i'm not sure who reads my stuff anymore haha

peter parker masterlist

Peter wakes up at sudden repetitive knocking at his front door. He grumbles and glances at the clock. Three in the morning.

He just went to sleep a couple of hours ago. He places his hands on his face and then sits up as the knocking continues. He flicks on the light and groans out loud with frustration.

“What the fuck,” he complains and throws his sheets off of him, getting up to walk towards the door. He peeks through the peephole and to his surprise, he sees you standing there. You're trembling and looking around frantically with tears all over your face. “Y/n?” he opens the door immediately.

Peter moved into his apartment not too long ago and met you. When he first met you, he offered to help with your boxes and take them up to your place where he later found out was across his. He found you, and still finds you, absolutely breath-taking. He's more than happy to have you as his neighbor. Although, he was a bit surprised to find out you have a roommate, who happened to fortunately and unfortunately be your asshole of a brother. Though, you didn’t seem to mention him much so Peter never asked.

Even though you and Peter didn’t get to see each other much because you both have your own busy schedules, you both couldn’t deny the pull you feel towards each other. Anytime you each had a chance to talk, whether it be meeting each other in the hallway, by the mailbox, or trash, you both took the time to get to know each other and catch up. Neither of you ever asked each other out, simply because you both have been planning to but haven't gotten around to it, yet.

You look up quickly and look at him with eyes full of emotions that he could recognize easily. Fear. Pain. He can feel your heart racing and opens his mouth to say something until you cut him off. Your lips quiver as you barely manage to murmur out, “I’m so sorry.”

Usually, you would never do something like this, wake up your poor neighbor at such an unusual hour but you know him and trust him and at the moment you felt like he was the only person you could go to. You're starting to feel a bit guilty now when your eyes rake over his exhausted face.

“What- what? No no no, it’s okay. It's okay. Are you okay?” he asks a slight rasp to his voice for just waking up. He cringes at his stupid question because he can easily tell you’re not okay but it was a question he'd always ask out of habit.

The simple question causes everything you were holding back to crash down on you. You choke on a sob and shake your head aggressively, hesitantly holding out your arms for him to hold you. You just want him to hold you, that's all you want right now and luckily, he does.

Peter immediately complies and pulls you into his embrace. He senses another presence and glances back at your place to see your brother slamming the door before storming off. He sends a glare toward him and brings you inside of his place, closing the door.

He places a hand on your head gently and the other on your back, rubbing circles onto your sweater in an attempt to comfort you. You cry loudly into the crook of his neck and wrap your arms around him, your hands are barely being able to meet as you try to hug him tighter. Your fingers grasp the materials of his shirt while your tears stain the clothing. Your knees gradually give up on you and you begin to slip through his arms.

He naturally adjusts and slides to the floor with you, holding you in between his legs. “Hey, I got you. Let it out,” he murmurs and massages your scalp, closing his eyes. He starts to think about how he’s going to teach that fucking brother of yours a lesson. He doesn't even want or need to know what he did because the fact that you’re in this state tells him enough.

You wail out as the memories flash through your mind. You weren’t sure why everything feels so painful. Everything mentally and physically hurts. All he did was yell, and yell, and yell. It terrified you every time. You thought at first you could handle it, but it seemed you’ve had enough, obviously. You couldn’t help but feel so weak after what had happened. So fragile. You thought to yourself, why couldn’t I be stronger?

Minutes fade into an hour. Your weeping falters into soft hiccups and coughs. Peter never stopped rubbing your back and soon he pulls away to glance at you. Embarrassed enough, you hide your face in his chest.

Christ, you’ve only known the guy for a month and here you are breaking down in his arms before you were even able to ask him out. as if you were ever going to though. 

“Let me look at you,” he murmurs and tucks a hair behind your ear. You really didn’t want to. You can already imagine how you look right now. Face red, nose runny, eyes puffy, sweaty skin, hair sticking everywhere. God. “C'mon, please?” he asks in a softer voice. How could you say no?

You groan quietly and begrudgingly lift your face up toward him. Now you can see his face. His stupid, perfect face. He begins to smile and you begin to frown. Why is he smiling? Did you look that bad? Before you could look away again, he carefully holds the side of your face with his hand. “W-What?” you whisper, your voice hoarse and tired from the crying.

“You're absolutely beautiful, you know that?” he swipes a thumb underneath your eye, wiping away tears that you didn’t realize slipped out.

“No,” you reply honestly and sniffle. He chuckles quietly and continues to stare at you. You blush at his intense gaze and avoid eye contact. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” he rolls his eyes and pushes your head into his chest once again. He ruffles your hair which causes you to whine, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“But—”

“No buts. It's okay. I’m your friend. I’m here for you,” he mutters and places his chin upon your head.

You curl up closer to him and nod, placing a hand on his chest as he wraps his arms around you once again. “Thank you. Seriously. I'm here for you too..." you sigh and think back to everything that happened. You feel he at least deserves an explanation, "He—"

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“Oh. Okay. Thank you,” you reply, a bit shocked but thankful. You don't even know if you have enough energy to explain everything that had happened. You smile as your face smushes up against his chest and close your eyes at the warmth he provides.

“You don’t need to thank me. That’s what friends are for.”

“Are you really friend-zoning me right now?” you ask, your voice laced with sarcasm not expecting the tease to go right over his head.

Your snarky retort throws him off guard. “W-What? No- no, it’s just I-I didn’t want to—”

“I’m joking.”

“Right, right,” he exhales and chuckles.

“Is it okay if I sleep next to you... tonight?”

“Yea, of course. Couch? my bed?”

“I don't care, just want to be next to you. If that’s okay.”

“More than okay, let’s go,” he stands up and swoops you up in his arms easily. Almost too easily, but you’ll bring that up later. He decides for you and walks over to his bed. He places you down and you lie on your back on the other side of his bed. He turns off the light and finds his way next to you, also lying on his back. He pulls the blanket up to cover the two of you.

You both stare at the ceiling, a comfortable silence filling the room until you decide to break it. “Can we cuddle?” you whisper and turn your head towards him.

He turns his head towards you and smiles tiredly, nodding. He sits up a bit and holds out his arms. You shuffle closer and wrap your arms around him like before, placing your head on his chest. He lies back down and pulls you flush against him. You drape one of your legs over him and sigh with content. You hear his heartbeat pound slowly, the rhythm almost like a lullaby. His breathing and the way his chest moves up and down calm you even more. “Thank you," you whisper.

“That's what friends are for—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

thanks for reading! what did you think?

tagging some mutuals! @celestialholland @parkerpeter24 @parkers-gal @t-lostinworlds @peterbenjiparker @petershbw @petersgroupie @dhtomholland @heavenlyholland @selfcarecap @vendettaparker @supremethunda @marvelouspeterparker @blissfulparker @devotion @darlingholland @eloquenceflores @screamholland @reawritesthings @harry-hollands @hollandcrush @asonofpeter @ptersmj @bi-lmg07 @saturnpeter @spideyspeaches @spidernerdsblog @ms-misery @peterpparkerwrites @watersofmars @stqrrysam @powerpuffluuvv @secretjeon @mischiefmanaged71 @justanotherdaydreamersoul

[skeepdotexe]

Fake Dating- Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Request:  Hi! Can you write a Stark!Reader x Peter Parker (Andrew please) were they’re fake dating because May was starting to catch onto the Spider-Man gig? They end up catching feelings and are scared to admit it? I hope this made sense! Thank you!

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N; id love some feedback on this! and let me know if youd like a part 2

“So, let me get this straight” Peter nodded for you to continue “You want to fake date?” He nodded again. You gave him a questioning look. “Care to explain or no?”.

“Right, right. So, Aunt May is starting to catch on. The other day, I came home all dirty from helping people and she looked at me like I just killed someone. So, you know about the spiderman thing so that’s not a problem. And since your my best friend” He gave a sweet smile “i figure, when she finds out we’ve been ‘dating’ she’ll think thats why Ive been acting strange.” He explained like it made absolute sense. It didn’t. You were contemplating throwing him off of the roof you where stood on.

“righttttt…” You looked at him strangely. “How do you know it’ll work?” you had a feeling this was gonna go very wrong.

“well, you know- you know, she’s aunt May, shell believe it” There was also another problem.

“You know if my dad gets wind of this he will literally kill you right? Like he will 100 percent get all the avengers to murder you, and then he’ll bring you back to life, then re-kill you himself” You stated dramatically. He paled then gave you a look. That look. The look that he had given you for the last 5 years. The ‘im right just trust me on this one’ look. 9 times out of ten he wasn’t right. But for the sake of both of you, you hoped this was the one time he was right.

“Fine fine, ill be your fake girlfriend or whatever” You groaned leaning into his shoulder.

“Wow, (Y/N) act more believable” He joked.

“Ah, Peter Parker, of course ill be your fake girlfriend!” You laughed loudly, shoving him.

“Shh, she might hear you!” He joined in, throwing his head back in laughter. After the laughter died down, you lay your head on Peters shoulder. You looked out into the sunset. It made you feel weird. Peter Parker’s girlfriend. No. Peter Parker's fake girlfriend.

As the night was getting late, you decided to make your walk home, not before making your ‘relationship’ very clear to Aunt May. She was sat in the living room as Peter walked you to the door. As he opened the door for you, May looked your way, so you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to Peters lips before scurrying out the door. He lifted a finger to his lips and blushed. Obviously Aunt May, who’d known you for 5 years and had never seen you kiss Peter, had some questions.

“Peter? What was that about?” Her question pulled him out of his romantic state. Its just because she’s your best friend, He told himself.

“uh-h” He awkwardly laughed. Why was he so hopeless. “She’s my girlfriend, now, actually” He mumbled tentatively. Before he knew it, Aunt May had gotten up and swooped him into a hug.

“I always knew you two had something going on!” She cheered. He furrowed his brows but hugged back nonetheless. Why would she think that? He shrugged of the thought and told Aunt May he was going to bed.

“Hey Parker! Hows ‘the plan’ going?” You jogged up to him as he made is way through the school corridors, clutching his camera. “She believe it?”

“y-yeah she did” He noted as you fist pumped the air. He thought you looked amazingly beautiful today. As you two stepped outside, he spotted a cleared bench, he longed to take a photo of you.

“(Y/N)?” He asked getting your attention. “Stand righttttt there” He pointed towards the clear bench as you happily jogged over and stood on it. Peter had always taken photos of you, but today it felt different. For him at least.

“Like this?” You giggled as you struck a pose.

“Yeah yeah, exactly like that” he threw his head back in laughter as he snapped plenty of photos at your ridiculous poses.

“(Y/N)! Parker!” Your photography fun was immediately stopped by the dreaded voice of Flash Thompson, making his way over.

“uh oh” You whispered to Peter as he helped you jump from the bench.

“I hear she’s your new girlfriend” Flash nodded towards you, grinning devilishly. You and Peter looked at each other.

“Yeah- Yeah she is” He was trying to be brave. It wasn’t working very well.

“Lay off, Flash” You both turned your heads your Gwen Stacey, the girl Peter had been crushing on for a few weeks. Although, he didn’t feel like that any more.

“Come on, Gwen. You cant seriously believe this can you. Little Peter Parker dating famous Tony Stark’s beautiful, intelligent daughter?” You felt disgusted at his comment, so did Gwen. “Does Daddy even know? Nah, he couldn’t, Parker would be dead by now. Or has Daddy just lost his game? Not as strong as he used to be. You could feel that Peter was about to say something out of anger, so you quickly moved your hand to hold his, even though anger was coursing through your veins

“Listen, Flash Thompson” The group of students surrounding the scene got slowly bigger. “im not dating ‘little Peter Parker’ im dating Peter Parker, a guy who is 10 times more smart and intelligent and handsome as you’ll ever be. So why don’t you go listen to Mommy’ nodding towards Gwen. “And lay off. Oh wait! You don’t have a Mommy” You made a mock sad face then giggled. The entire group was in shock, even Peter. Okay maybe it was a bit uncalled for, but he shouldn’t have insulted your dad.

Flashs’ face turned magenta as he balled his fist and tried to throw a punch. You ducked under his fist. Your dad had taught you to fight once you could walk.

“Wow! You just tried to hit a girl” You smiled incredulously, while Flash was still bright red. “Thats fine, im all for feminism, ya know, equal rights equal fights” You said nonchalantly. “You shouldn’t have punched Tony Starks daughter though” You added, right as your fist connected with his jaw and our foot connected with his nether regions. You grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back as the ever expanding group cheered. Just as you were about to stand on top him, Peter grabbed you and pulled you away.

“Okay, enough fighting, avengers style” He dragged you inside the hallway.

“He deserved it for what he was saying” You grumbled.

“Im sure he did but-” Peter paused as he saw the principle and two concerned looking teachers, making their way down the hallway. “Rain check?” He whispered.

“Yep!” You whispered back as you jumped onto his back and he sped of, out of the school.

“You have to admit, it was pretty cool” You grinned at Peter as he fixed up the cuts on your knuckles.

“It was cool. You knocked out Flash Thompson. ‘The’ Flash Thompson. But you got yourself hurt in the process” He whined.

“Wow, Mr ‘im-spiderman-and-i-risk-my-life-everyday Is telling me about danger, okay I see how it is” You joked.

“You know what I mean” He grinned. As he finished wrapping your hands, you heard footsteps coming upstairs. “Its Aunt May. What do we do?” Before you could think of anything, you instinctively brought his lips to yours and your hand fell into his hair. He kissed back passionately, like his entire life had been leading up to this moment. It sent a flurry of butterflies into your stomach. He felt the same thing. His lips tingled and his hand lay on your waist. You had officially caught feelings. And so had he. You heard the door open and kept your eyes tightly shut and lips moving.

“You got into a fi-” You furrowed your brows, that didn’t sound like Aunt May. You moved away from Peters loving kiss to face the door. The second you saw who it was your face turned bright red, you were done for.

“Dad?!” You shrieked. Peter was drawn from his daze, dreaming of you beautiful lips, by your loud voice.

“Mr. Stark” He almost fell out of his chair at the sight of Tony Stark, Happy and Aunt May, all stood in the door in shock.

“Alright, Spiderling, hands off my daughter” Your dad hurried over and grasped your hand, gently shoving you out the room. Of course Tony Stark knew about him.

“s-see you later, Parker” You muttered. After Tony left, Aunt May shut the door awkwardly, returning to living room. And once, he was left alone with his thoughts. His thoughts about you.

[skeepdotexe]

Unnecessary Tutoring

Request: Not requested

Pairing: (Andrew Garfield) Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You really want to get to know Peter, but the only way you could think of was by faking ignorance and pretending to need to get tutored by him.

Warnings: Language

Word count: 1,977

A/N: I thought this would turn out better with Andrew’s Spiderman, but if you want to think it’s Tom Holland’s Spied you are more than welcome to.

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Unnecessary Tutoring

“Fuck…” You whispered to yourself, toying with the phone in your hands as you contemplated the lit screen in front of you.

The phone was open on a contact- Peter Parker’s contact to be exact. After having only one class with him, you’d foolishly fallen in love. You treasured the days when you’d walk into the Biology room, expecting to be bored to death with yet another lecture and instead getting to see Peter’s smile and his beautifully fluffy hair covering up your view of the professor’s board- not that you minded in the least. He gave off a warm and friendly vibe and had a kind personality, making your days that much easier to get through- well, that was when he attended the lectures, anyway. For being so smart, he had an outstandingly large amount of tardies and absences.

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