#andrew garfield peter parker

[sincericida]

Andrew Garfield on set of "The Amazing Spider-Man" (2011)

[venus616]

I- OKAY, THE STREETS FIC DESTROYED ME😭😭😭! Sooo i had this idea where both peter compete who'd get her pregnant.....but ofc there's no way to know cuz they're identical but it's just very very exciting iykwim

(this is first time me requesting it lol, I'm sorry if it's awkward)

Feel free to ignore if you're not comfortable with this tho <3

not awkward at all!! i had fun playing around with this :) i just can’t believe how much y’all are feeling this double peter parker shit omg djjfnfjnjd

the bet (streets ?.?); {tasm!peter parker}

Pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader (you can interpret this as any peter parker if you so please)

Summary: in addition to this oneshot, this ask and in response to this even hornier ask

Warnings: established relationship, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, still dubcon (dubious consent) bc reader is unaware of their intentions, breeding kink, unprotected sex, squirting, oral sex, 18+, NSFW, can this count as kinktober?

Word Count: 4.2k (only smut (LOL))

A/N: okay let's pretend that they decided to live together and that logistically it makes sense… then this is my take on the request

ALSO just to make reading this easy: multiverse!peter is past tense + the shower; husband!peter is present tense + the kitchen counter

previously: streets | the aftermath

Living with two Peter Parkers was not necessarily the dream you’d thought it’d be. Sure, it was really convenient when you needed help around the house and one was busy patrolling, but it seemed like it was of more use to them when they got to have you to themselves a s individuals. 

Through this living agreement, your husband didn’t mind you sleeping with his inter-dimensional self, which was only right since he practically begged you to let him stay despite knowing the feelings he had harbored for you. 

But what you didn’t realize was how intentional every single time they came in you was, since it was something you never minded, in fact preferred or encouraged.

“But I’m so tired,” Is what you whine out when you turn off the stove, knowing that Peter wouldn’t be able to leave you alone unless he fucked you senseless at least once, or five times, tonight. 

You noted to order takeout later instead of cooking since he was so adamant. 

You could feel his hardon from behind and his large hands were engulfing your sides. You arch your backside onto his crotch and hear a soft moan escape his lips and know it’s your husband. He was a little more submissive than his counterpart. 

Especially compared to how he treated you earlier today, it could only be your Peter peppering your jaw and neck in kisses, rubbing your ass through your sleeping shorts and grinding up against you. 

Almost in juxtaposition to how the other Peter had your back pressed against the cold wall of your shower, thrusting hastily inside of you while your legs remained wrapped around his hips and his hands carrying you by your ass. You almost feel bad for how loud you were being from his brute force, only muffled by how your head would dip into his shoulders while your arms wrapped around his neck. 

Your body gets hot thinking about it, especially reminiscing the steam of the shower dizzying you first thing in the morning. You were initially alone until you looked through the screen door, seeing a figure of Peter, not knowing which one even when the towel dropped. 

You made space for him to get in and stepped back closer to the shower head, faced towards where he’d enter, picking up the soap to lather him in. Once he stepped in, you knew it wasn’t your husband for the lack of tattoo, thankful he didn’t end up getting it after all. 

The water began to hit him, and it was a delicious sight that you focused on as the bubbles began to pile up on your hands. Instead of asking for the soap you were about to offer him, Peter got on his knees and pulled your leg to rest on one of his shoulders. Your lips parted, feeling the hot water begin to hit your back from the new position and feeling his mouth ghost your pubic area. 

You throw your head back at how his mouth latches onto your core, lapping up your folds while rubbing onto your clit with his other hand. His tongue had already memorized you, running up and down your entrance while your clit rolled underneath his thumb. You reached down to run your fingers through his hair but ended up pulling at it when the pressure on your clit increased. 

You’re brought out of your memories when you feel the current Peter trail his hand down your shorts to examine your wetness and play with your clit at the same pace. You’re breathy when you shake out of your distraction and feel his hand play with you. 

“Did you hear me?” He asks. You shake your head, turning your head slightly to look at him hanging his head in the crook of your shoulder, still kissing your collar. 

“I said,” He chuckles lowly, almost as if he knew what you were thinking about, “but I miss my wife,” He’s high pitched and breathy when he repeats himself, inserting his large fingers, both the index and middle into you making your body curl into him. 

Your hand clutches onto his much larger forearm that remains on your stomach, clutching at your flesh to keep you in place and your shirt above the seam of your shorts for easy access. You feel his wedding band and lace your fingers with his all while shuddering at his quick and skilled movements. You bite your lip embarrassed at how quick your pants are. 

“I thought you like sharing me,” You rasp out, feeling Peter’s fingers thrust and scissor into you effortlessly. Your wetness coats his fingers easily from the attention he was giving you and the memories of how you started your day.

Peter nibbles on your ear before lowering your shorts further on your hips with his free hand. “Sometimes,” He reminds you. 

You let out a soft sigh, liking the honesty. 

The possessiveness.

“Other times,” He starts while curling his fingers further into your pussy, the wetness dripping out onto his palms. “I just want you filled up with my cum,” He reminds you, before inserting another finger. You become almost too sensitive and recoil in his grasp, almost tightening your legs around his hands before he stops you. 

“And only mine,” He continues, growling in your ear knowing you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him. You struggle to hold it, feeling the familiar tension in the pit of your stomach while Peter’s cock flexes against your back. 

“Mhm,” You nod in understanding, being held against his body for dear life only to get you to stop squirming under his touch. 

“Cum for me baby,” He exhaled, getting just as impatient as you. You held tightly onto his arms for leverage and clenched around his fingers, feeling more than stretched out for whatever he had in store for you tonight. You feel yourself continuing to pulsate around nothing when he removes his hands and pulls your shorts down, pooling around your ankles. 

You step out of them and remove your shirt, revealing yourself to be entirely bare. You arch your back over the counter, feeling especially bold when you lift your knee over the granite to make it easier for him to enter. (Not that he ever had an issue before)

He grins before lowering the waistband of his sweats and raising his t-shirt to reveal his aching cock to line up to your core. He slips in with ease and you moan immediately, encouraging him to go deeper when you lean forward. “Fuck me Peter,” You breath out, with your hands clutching at your counter top. 

“Such a filthy mouth,” Peter taunts. You scoff out a humorless laugh when you remember how the other version of himself said the exact thing earlier, it almost felt like deja-vu.

When you recall it, it was when he had first slammed your back against the wall, causing you to curse out in pain and impatience. But in Peter’s defense, at the moment you had the mouth of a sailor. It didn’t help that he entered into you while you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, caused by him eating you out like you were his breakfast. 

“You’re so mean to me,” is what you responded with that morning. You shook your head when you said it, pouting a little hoping it would make him feel inclined to go a little softer on you. 

Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck desperately, while he rocked his hips from beneath you, still causing your back to grind against the tiles behind you. 

Peter leaned into your ear, arms fully flexed from hiking you up to fuck you like there was no tomorrow. You couldn’t help the quick moans escaping your lips at the sight of his body underneath the water. Feeling his cock hit the depths of your pussy each time he thrusted felt like torture, knowing you couldn’t do much in return while in this position. 

He continued to moan in your ear before meeting your forehead with his own, making you keep eye contact with him. He smiles before he says it, the shower water turning lukewarm when it hits your sides. 

“Only because you make it so easy,” He grunted out before thrusting particularly hard into you. You whimpered, feeling your body jolt from his strength. 

The water dripped down both your faces, and you admired his dark glare into yours while the droplets streaked down his hair. You went in for a passionate kiss, clashing onto his face and holding onto his shoulders while he almost bruised your thighs. 

You ignored how uncomfortable it was being held against this wall because of the pleasure that came with Peter practically splitting you open. He repeatedly hit your cervix making it harder for you to bite back the screams that would surely be heard by your husband.

“You look so good bouncing on my cock like this,” He praised, detaching himself from your desperate kisses. You nodded, locking eyes with him and ran your hands through his wet chocolate locks. 

“Gonna look even better with my cum inside you,” He added before going back in for a kiss, getting sloppier with his thrusts. One of his hands latched onto your breasts, rolling your nipple in between his fingers. 

You didn’t pay any mind to it until your husband echos the same thing the other Peter did earlier. 

Peter pulls your neck back to his chest while you’re still clutching on the kitchen counter and whispers into your ear, “Gonna have my babies,” he continues. 

You’re brought back to reality when your breathing is compromised under his touch. When you inhale a large gasp he lets go so you can lean forward to arch your back, laying your hands flat against the counter. 

Peter then holds onto your hips to maneuver you to repeatedly slam onto his pelvis, the loud smacks echoing in the kitchen. If you thought better of it you’d be embarrassed at the idea of his other half walking in on this scene but you then realized that’s probably part of the thrill for Peter at the moment. 

“Babies,” You repeat, barely of a sound mind still not understanding why they sound identical today. 

“You’re taking me so fucking well,” He grunts out, “I wanna knock you up,” He adds right before sending a sharp smack to your ass. The ring left an imprint on your ass that you’d never get used to. You yelp out a whimper from how it shot sensitivity right up your spine and into your abused core from all the orgasms throughout the day. You swore these boys were fucking with your tolerance at this point. 

“Knock me up?” Peter doesn’t miss that it comes out as a question and drags your body to come back up at its previous position by your breasts, massaging the both of them while your back is pressed up his chest again. 

Your hands are over his hands, playing, almost teasing your boobs while he questions you in your ears. “Do you wanna have babies with me?” 

You’re caught off guard by this. Obviously it was one of the many things you spoke with Peter about before you two got married where you agreed that if the time was right, it would happen. But in the greater scheme of things, it just seemed a little abrupt to bring up. Still, you were so intoxicated off of him all you could do was nod, turning around to meet his eyes lustfully. 

“Yeah?” Peter’s eyes lit up, his thrusts getting sloppier when you moan out what is barely a ‘yes’ through a heavy “Uh-huh.”

When you turn back around and close your eyes, all you can see in your head is earlier today when you watched Peter fuck you from the angle he held you in the shower and the string of curses that escaped both your lips when you were close. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, I’m gonna get you pregnant in no time,” Peter muttered so low you almost missed it. You were too distracted to say anything though, mostly because you weren’t necessarily opposed to it when you were being fucked so well.

All you remember is that your breasts felt like putty in his hands, similar to now, and he took advantage of it in this position as they were practically begging for his attention. 

He raised you a little higher from his cock and lifted you up from the wall, knowing he didn’t need the support. Peter then slammed you onto his hips, making you throw caution to the wind and yelp out. 

“Peter,” You tried moaning out for him to slow down but he doesn’t listen as his teeth latched onto your chest now. You sensitivity was at an all time high now, feeling sharp shots of pain sent through your nervous system when your nipples were being suckled on top of being fucked senseless.

“Let go, let it go for me,” He begged you when he felt the frequency of your clenching pick up. He relished the feeling and started to slow down as your movements stuttered throughout your body on top of him. When you felt his cum shoot into you shortly after, he fucked it into you until you started to feel his cock soften. 

Peter eventually relaxed on your tits and looked back up at you inbetween the valley of your breasts apologetically, as if to say that he couldn’t help himself. 

He finally let you step back down on your own feet but you could barely stand. He supported you by holding onto your lower back but his fingers found his way to your folds and fingered you. You instinctively flinched from the overstimulation but he forced your legs to stay open. 

The cum that ran down your thighs, he managed to fuck back into you through his fingers, but you didn’t note it as he engulfed you in a kiss as soon as you were able to stand up on your own. It was cute to Peter really, you sounded so desperate for him to be gentle, clueless to the entire ploy he and his other self cooked up. 

Still unaware while your husband’s pacing starts to get sloppy, the smacks filling the air while your lower stomach feels tense.

“Peter,” You cry. You’ve lost track of the amount of times you’ve been getting fucked in the last week alone, it almost felt like you were in more pain than pleasure. 

“I know, just hold on a little,” Peter grunts before thrusting even harder a few more times, “longer,” His voice is getting unsteady, you know he’s close. You try to fuck back again knowing it’s one of his bigger weaknesses, seeing how your ass bounces onto him. Peter felt the force of your ass meeting his hips and looked down, knowing he was a goner. 

Seeing the skin of your cheeks ripple off of his and onto his cock so perfectly, while feeling your desperate cunt clench onto him was more than enough. His deep moans praise you while he couldn’t form coherent words, obviously drunk off of your movements. 

“Cum in me baby, give it to me,” You rasp out and turn back around to meet his eyes, knowing that would really send him over the edge. 

“Fuck,” He says it repeatedly, while he thrusts a few more final times. You can feel his hot cum shoot inside you, cock pulsating in your sensitive core which just makes your knees shake but you remain still, or rather, Peter makes you remain still. He moves himself only slightly, trying not to let too much cum seep out and you shake your head mostly out of exhaustion, but also out of disbelief. 

When he fully slips out of you, he repeats Peter’s earlier motions to keep the cum inside of you. You barely have the energy to lift yourself up from the counter and just crave the warmth of your husband. 

Eventually you manage, and then you kiss him gently, while he smirks. You pull away, tiredness written all over your confused expression. 

“What is it?” You ask, fully turned around to face him. 

Peter shakes his head, but what you didn’t know was that he was thinking back to a conversation he had with his other half the other week. 

Peter thinks you read his mind, but it’s really because you finally had enough reason to ask as they lack subtlety: “Care to tell me why you and the other Parker have baby fever all of a sudden?”

He only grabs your smaller hand in his, before leading it to your stomach and rubbing it. “Why, you don’t wanna have my baby?” He pouts, obviously deflecting the bigger question. 

“Of course I do,” you roll your eyes at the accusation before removing both your hands from your stomach.

“I just want to know why now,” You clarify before sitting at the counter. You feel how sore you are when your hands find their way to your cunt again. 

Looking down at how your fingers trace your wet folds, mixed with your cum and his, you ignore how Peter is watching you, cock twitching at the sight of your spread legs and left over sweat trickling on your boobs. 

His eyes flickered from the sight of his cum seeping out of your pussy back to your eyes, still figuring out how he should answer. 

Peter watches your middle finger graze your clit and how your body reacts to the feeling. He loves how sensitive you are. His cock is already half hard watching how your fingers collected the cum that seeped out of you. 

You eventually look up at him and you catch his eyes darken. Round two is about to happen. 

“We have a bet,” He lets the words run together on his tongue, before moving the heels of your feet to the edge of the counter.

There’s a couple of things that go through your mind when he says that while he continues to readjust your body.

One being that you’d definitely have to disinfect this counter before you go to bed tonight. Second is the conclusion that you really can’t leave two Peter Parker's alone together for more than 24 hours. 

“A bet?” 

You know you shouldn’t be as calm as you’re being about this. At least from a rational standpoint. However, none of the decisions made up to this point were rational. 

“We love you so much,” 

Here he goes, you think, 

“We just wanted to see who could get you pregnant first.”

Oh.

When Peter closes the distance between your bodies and kisses your neck you know he has easy access to fuck you. Once his cock is standing against his stomach again he readjusts your legs, one around his waist and another over his shoulder. 

It would’ve been more of a pain if you weren’t used to being put in less than comfortable positions for him by now.

You inhale sharply, trying to be mad at him. “Peter,” You try to say as his hands remain on your hips. One of them snakes back down to his cock to realign with your entrance, and he shoots back up an apologetic look to you, reminding you that you were no match for his brown eyes. 

Either of them really. 

You both hiss when he re-enters you effortlessly but you repeat yourself. 

“Peter, you can’t be,” You moan, but try to keep your voice steady. You failed but you weren’t backing down now. “Fucking serious,” You stutter when the curse leaves your mouth, mostly because of having to readjust to his size at this position. 

He has a guttural groan that shoots arousal down to your core the moment it hits your ears. “Ungh, I, fuck,” He quickens up his pace, obviously not listening to you. “I know but hear us out,” Peter dips his head into your shoulders, kissing the sensitive spots of your neck as if it would make the situation better. 

“Regardless of what happens, we'll take care of you,” He whimpers. His thrusts get sharper when he picks back up his head and your jaws are both slacked at the new pace. 

You’re looking at where your bodies meet while Peter is focusing on your flushed out face, motivating him to go faster. 

You shut your eyes out of the pain mixing in with pleasure, also frustrated by his attention, biting your bottom lip to stop the flow of curses from flowing out. 

Peter studies your reaction and almost feels bad.

Almost.

“You feel so fucking good around me, I can’t help myself,” Peter adds, cooing into your face when his forehead rests yours. You pinch your eyebrows together and shake your head as if to disagree but he only shakes his head with you. 

“We can’t help ourselves,” He corrects, panting along with you.

“Pete,” You whine, arms wrapped around his neck as he fucks you on the edge of the counter, and you can feel him reaching so deep into your cervix repeatedly it makes you want to scream. 

He notices it and starts pulling out far enough to tease you, just to slam back into you. If he wasn’t careful enough you’d definitely hit your head on the cabinets.

You cry out from his increasing speed and feel your thighs burning up from the snapping of his hips against yours from this angle. 

“You’re so fucking good to me,” Peter says, he almost sounds like he’s about to cry when he thrusts into you. 

“Good to us,” He adds, still slamming against your sensitive, sopping pussy.

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes when you feel how deep he’s going inside of you, feeling his balls smack against your cunt.

Peter notes how you tighten around him when he says it, and decides to use it against you. He brushes stray hairs behind your ear before continuing.

“You’re our good girl,” His hands find his way to your throat, gently holding it while you try to stay still as his movements only stretch your leg further. He uses his free hand to hold onto one side of your hips

You whimper and nod, knowing he already won. 

“I’m your good girl,” You repeat, hardly audible from your lips from how hard it is to speak.

“So fucking good,” He reaffirms and matches his thrust to every syllabus in that statement and you feel like you could almost pass out. You don’t even warn him, immediately cumming around him and mewling out at how abrupt the tension snapped in your stomach. 

You look down and realize there was more than cum being released and that a viscous, clear liquid was trickling down the counter and all over his t-shirt, the liquid glistening over his lower abdomen and still hard cock. 

“‘M sorry,” You gasp out, “I couldn’t help it,” your voice is hardly above a whisper. Your chest is heaving from how much energy that took out of you, but Peter was just surprised to see that you were so overstimulated you squirted. 

His eyes only light up with mischief before he goes back and inhales you into a kiss. He holds his cock to enter your pussy and his hips stutter at the wet, hot feeling before slowing down. He removes himself off of your lips to grunt into your shoulder, telling you he was close. He quickly  shoots a smaller load than before into you. 

Seeing you surrender to him, feeling your heat suction around him with no warning, added onto how how fucking hot it was for him to see you squirt onto him? It’s no wonder he came immediately. 

He leans in to kiss you again, this time you’re too exhausted to return it with the same passion. Only gently kissing back while his tongue begs for entrance.

Peter reaches down to rub your clit to garner a reaction and you part your lips out of over stimulation, but you immediately reach for him to stop. Your hands lace when you do, before you meet his eyes again. 

“Too much.” You shake your head, knowing you didn’t have it in you to say more at the moment. 

He grins and chuckles at your fear before listening to your objections.

You pout and furrow your eyebrows before your hands reach down to cover your cunt, closing your legs to tease him. 

“Don’t be mean,” You remind him. 

“Sorry, baby.” He leans in to kiss you again, without the foreplay and this time you let him in. Only caressing your scalp, to help you lean into the kiss. 

Soon after, he swoops you up over the threshold to take you into your bedroom for the night. You yelp out but he covers it up by smothering your face in kisses. You giggle your protests all the way through before you bounce on the shared bed he threw you on. 

And while you struggle to believe that either of them thought this bet through, you let Peter cum into you as many times as he wanted to that night.

[garfldcline]

steve harrington and peter parker are the same person.

[dylwrites]

smut for andrew’s peter i see?? 🥴 can you write something where peter and reader have always been school rivals and one day he overhears reader saying spiderman isn’t all that, and it leads to smut somehow? it’s been in my head all week 😭😂

rules — character list — boundaries

request — masterlist

RUINED . PETER PARKER

warnings: nsfw, slight degradation, one slap, hate sex kinda

read part 2 here!

a/n: haven’t written smut in a while so i’m kinda rusty… hope you enjoy it though😭 i know you’re starving

y/n sat at her lunch table, reluctantly eating the food as everyone else around her did. but, this was a daily occurrence. her, bad lunch, her best friend, gwen, and gwen's best friend.

peter parker.

y/n wasn't one to use the word "hate" lightly, but peter had been her academic rival since freshman year. it's senior year now and neither of them have gotten over it.

but at least they had their middle-man — woman — to keep them from ripping each other's hair out.

"so, christmas is close," gwen breaks the silence, as always. y/n and peter tore their eyes from their trays, locking eyes at first before focusing on gwen.

"yeah," peter nods, his tone a 'duh' tone.

"you what would be funny," gwen snickers at her idea, mainly because she knew y/n's little crush on spider-man.

but she also knew who spider-man is.

y/n hums, signaling gwen to continue. "if spider-man lit the christmas tree this year. seeing mister red and blue struggling to turn on the lights."

y/n chuckles at the mental sight, it would be a bit funny. everyone knew how naturally funny spider-man was.

y/n looks up as peter scoffs, "i don't believe he'd have trouble with a christmas tree with how many villains he's fought." y/n always found this interesting, the little jabs gwen would poke at spider-man. it always got peter riled up, and y/n loved to see him so aggravated.

"as much as i like spider-man, he'd probably need help with the simple task," y/n pipes in, shaking her head with a light smile on her face, picking at her food once more.

"you like spider-man?" peter inquires, putting his chin in his hand. finally, he thought, something new to use against you.

"who doesn't? someone who'd risk their life for their city? that's a keeper."

"a keeper, huh?" gwen joins in on the teasing, mimicking peter's pose. y/n quirks a brow at the two.

"uh, yeah?" y/n laughs, "what's with the interrogation?"

"just wondering how far this spidey crush has gotten," gwen shrugs, leaning back with a pursed lip smile.

"spidey crush?" peter asks, his voice going up an octave. y/n rolled her eyes at peter's smirk. she hated how it felt to even slightly joke with him. but thankfully for her, the bell rang, just in time to send them to their next period. the only one she had without peter.

she darted up, dumping her tray into the garbage can, almost dropping the tray itself in the process with how rushed she was. why was peter being so cocky about the spider-man thing? she knew he was going to tease her about it.

y/n sat in her living room of her apartment, thanks to dinner, dessert, and binge watching her favorite show, she'd forgotten about peter and gwen's teasing comments that had nagged her the rest o her school day.

that is, until she heard light taps on her fire escape window.

turning around, she saw a red-blue figure waving at her. stunned, she ran towards the window, flipping the latch and swinging it open, and just stared at the boy with wide eyes.

"may i come in? winter in queens isn't the most pleasant," spider-man teases, and y/n could just tell he had a shit eating grin behind that mask. still too stunned to open her mouth and speak, she moved to the side, allowing him to walk into her apartment.

“hm, i don't think i've ever been in your apartment before, don't see why i would anyways..." peter lets out a shot laugh at the end of his sentence, turning back towards y/n.

"i'm sorry, what?" y/n shakes her head, letting out a short laugh. she rubbed her eyes for a second to make sure she wasn't dreaming, but sure enough, when she opened them again, there the hero was. in all his glory.

"why are you here?" y/n almost shouts.

"that's one way to greet your crush," spider-man teases, laughing as he slowly walked over to her. now the two were mere inches apart.

y/n blinked rapidly, was peter really that bad at keeping secrets? that he found a way for spider-man himself to find out about her crush?

"you're delirious," y/n retorts, and attempts to walk away before a sticky web caught her jacket, and she was pulled into spider-man's arms.

"what are you—" the girl was cut off with a kiss. a kiss that was pretty intense given the fact one's mouth was covered. y/n savored the moment as reality slipped away from her. but all good moments have to end.

she pushed the boy off of her, "what the hell was that?"

spider-man laughed awkwardly, and it took everything in y/n to hold her smirk as she watched him nervously scratch the back of his neck, "is that not what you wanted..?" his question trailed off as silence filled the air.

y/n looked at him, biting her lip as she weighed her options. as unrealistic as this seemed, and how spooked she still was due to the fact spider-man himself is in her house and knows about her crush.

she didn't understand why he wanted to do this, but her underwear was soaked by the end of her thoughts.

she heard a chuckle that caused her to look up, "i can tell it's what you want."

"what do i get in return?" y/n crosses her arms.

"well, i thought you really wanted what i'm willing to give you," the boy tilts his head, bringing his hand up to caress her cheek. "but maybe if you let me have my way with you..." he trails off, letting his hand slide from her cheek to her neck, locking his hand around it. "maybe you'll get to see who's ruined you."

y/n whined at his statement, and watched in anticipation as he lifted his mask slightly to show his lips, and he kissed her again, fiercer this time. y/n pushed further, trying to deepen the kiss. in any other situation, her hand would be knuckle deep in his hair, which was sadly, not an option.                        

spider-man laughed at her desperation, separating their lips despite her whiny protests. he attached his lips to her neck, sucking and biting as harsh as he pleased.

he leaned back with a smirk, and the way he tilted his head and smirked, y/n knew he'd left marks.

"couch," he demands, unzipping his suit as y/n obeys with excitement. she sat in the middle of her sofa, watching a, now naked, spider-man walk over to her. he tuts, gripping her shirt, "i didn't think i'd have to tell you to take this off."

the harsh tone he used sounded so familiar and it drove y/n crazy. hurriedly taking off her shirt, and ridding herself of her pants, she was about to slide her underwear off when the man above her grabbed her wrist.

"that's my job," he smiles, grabbing her body like it was merely a paper ball and turning her around, throwing her back onto the couch on her back with a yelp. he smirked as he ran his hand along her bare stomach, then her thighs, down to her underwear, which he began toying with.

she gasped at the action, stirring the boy on further as he smirked. with his eyes trained on hers, in one movement he ripped the fabric off her body, tossing it somewhere else in the room.

she watched him carefully with her bottom lip between her teeth, his eyes were trained on her body though. he gripped her thighs to push them up, smiling at the way they fit in his hands perfectly.

"no noises," he instructs, pushing in as much as he could at once, smirking at the way the girl below him desperately held in her gasps. she writhed in pain and pleasure at the same time, feeling him stretch her pussy out offered an equal feeling of both.

she felt him move slightly, accompanied by his quiet grunts and groans. she fought the urge to tell him to go faster, digging her hands into the couch cushions under her.

"poor thing," he mocks, grabbing her jaw harshly before letting it go. but he followed by quickly with a slap to her cheek, inducing a whimper from her.

"what did i say?" he tilts his head, still rocking his hips with hers slowly. she heard him pant through his mask, and could see how hot it must have been getting with it on. peter repeats his statement, quickening his pace.

"not to make noise," y/n stammers out, gasping when he went deeper. a chuckle emitted from his lips and, again with his enhanced strength, he pulled out of her and flipped her over, shoving her head into the pillow. he heard her moan into the cushion as he jerked his mask off, taking in a big breath before thrusting back into her.

peter was surprised he hadn't started loosing his dominant facade of sorts. he was usually quite whiny, and obeyed. hiding under that suit helped with his witty side, but being able to take it off and fuck the girl he'd claimed to hate so long made him feel so in charge.

he bent down, grabbing her hair and yanked her head up, hearing a breathy moan leave her lips. "look at me," he sneers, biting at her neck. she looked back, meeting eyes with a very cocky peter. she gasped before her head was forced back into the couch cushions.

she hated admitting this, but she swore the revelation that peter fucking parker was spider-man, and had himself balls deep inside her almost made that tight feeling in her snap.

"bet you're getting off to this. your academic rival ruining you," peter chuckles above her, snapping his hips a few more times before the too were gasping from their orgasms.

peter flipped her back over, practically collapsing on top of her. she sighed as she ran her hands through his hair, something she thought about doing so often.

"can we do that again please?" peter asks, all trace of dominance gone in an instant. and as y/n looked into his eyes she could tell barely a thought was in his head.

she smirked, "only if i can control you this time."

[spideyfrog]

brb i’m jumping off a cliff

[the-amazing-simp]

congrats on 500 followers! for 📸 can you write tasm!peter x reader where the reader is baking and peter is just there to sit and look pretty

Thank you so much for requesting this! I'm so sorry it took so long <3

My 500 celebration is now closed!

Sweet Tooth | TASM P.P.

“Please, I promise I’ll be careful.” Peter pleaded, giving you the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. 

“Peter, for someone who’s Spider-Man, you managed to almost burn down the apartment twice. Both times you were in the kitchen.” You said, swatting him away with a wooden spoon.

“I won’t even go near the oven.” He kept on trying.

“How about I make you a deal?” You dragged him to the stool at the end of the counter, “If you sit down and cause as minimal damage as possible, I’ll let you lick the spoon.” 

Ever a child at heart, your boyfriend nodded with a smile, eyes lighting up with delight. 

While Peter was snacking on a bowl of chocolate chips and you were whipping the batter, he suddenly contemplated, “What’s with you and Aunt May getting on my case about domestic stuff?” 

You shook your head, silently telling him that you had no idea what he was talking about. 

“First, when I did the laundry, Aunt May goes all laundry sheriff commando on me and I’m basically banned from doing laundry at her house. Now, you ban me from the kitchen.” Peter practically pouted.

“Well, when you did the laundry everything turned pink. It was like something from the set of Mean Girls.” You laughed.

Your boyfriend jokingly rolled his eyes at you, “I forgot to separate the Spider-Man suit.” 

“Yeah then when Aunt May interrogated you, you washed the American Flag.” You said, going to preheat the oven.

“That’s a perfectly good reason. It has red and blue and white.” Peter argued.

Placing the cookie tray in the oven, you turned to him, “If that’s the case, then congratulations! You will be put down in the Guinness Book of World Records as the first ever person who washed the American flag.” 

“Whatever.” He huffed, “But there’s still the kitchen matter.” 

As promised, you handed him the bowl and spoon to lick, “Peter if you wanted to commit arson, then do it at an abandoned house where they will be zero casualties.” 

“You’re quite on a cheery strike today.” Peter teased.

“Keep going and you’ll lose the bowl and spoon and you won’t get any cookies and you’ll be banned from stepping into the kitchen altogether.”

General Taglist: 

@rogueharrington, @hunnybunimdun, @andrewgarfield2022, @jasmin7813, @andrewgarfieldsbae, @spxiiee, @shaded-echoes, @holy-macncheese-balls, @mcugeekposts, @dwindlinghaze, @anonyymoouussssss

[magicchai]

I don't know if you are accepting requests but if you are I was thinking of Y/N friends dare her to make out with Peter against the lockers. She accept and do it but ran away, Peter follows her and they confess their feelings for each other. I don't know, you can choose the ending. Thanks love ❤

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐌!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑.

pairings ; tasm!peter parker x reader 

warnings ; a dare to kiss peter but it’s fluffy, friends being kind of peer-pressure-y but nothing bad.

word count ; 898

additional notes ; i loved loved loved this idea!

“we’re helping you out,” is what your friends had said, a bored lunch game of truth and dare took a step too far, at the expense of you and your crush. lunch was nearing an end, the bell soon to ring and dignify the start of classes, or as you knew peter had, a free period.

you had spent too much stalling. ever since they had dared you to kiss him you sat in your seat in the cafeteria, staring at the poor boy whose head was too stuck in his book and drinking the strawberry milk from the small carton to even notice.

you had met him on the first day of middle school and ended up in the same high school, your long-term crush. it felt like a book in itself, getting to go to the same school as the boy you fell for, but beside the small talk and smiles in the hall, you were too shy to do anything.

“he’s getting up, you need to do it now.” you cover your eyes while shaking your head, turning away as he picks his head up to stuff his book back in his bag and politely clear up the table, sending the dinner lady a quick wave.

“i can’t, he’ll think i’m crazy,” you state, whisper-shouting beneath your hands. one of your friends grip your forearm with a shake to pull your hold away, “i’m so sure he likes you too,” you tut in disapproval while sitting back.

you lock eyes with him, swinging his bag over his shoulder and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. peter smiles as he passes, a nice nod sent in your direction which is already enough to make you weak in the knees.

“i can’t kiss him in front of the school,” you say after he passes. your friends groan in disagreement, guiding you off the seat and ushering your bag over your shoulder as they force you out the dinner hall and through the corridors leading to peter’s locker.

by the time you make it there, he’s punching in his numbers to open the door, swinging it to reveal the little movie stumps and band stickers across the inside. with another push, your friends nudge you forward, hiding behind the corner wall to peek over as you finally walk towards him.

you feel speechless, knowing what you’re about to do, and instead of talking, you anxiously tap his shoulder while he moves textbooks from his bag and into the locker. collecting his skateboard from inside, his curious glance turns into a soft smile when he notices you. 

“oh hey, y/n. what’s up?” peter asks, turning his body to face you while slamming his locker shut. instead of replying, with the last smidgen of confidence slowly fizzling, you hold onto the scruff of his jacket while leaning up to kiss him.

as you push into him, the nervous movement of your lips faltering against peter’s, his back is pressed against the locker while his widened eyes quickly close to the feeling. you hear the sound of his skateboard hit the floor beneath you before his hands cup your face, his lips responding against yours.

his skateboard could be rolling away now, but peter doesn’t care as he revels in the feeling of your lips against his. turning into a needy makeout, unable to tear away from each other, if peter didn’t have a hold of your face, you would be falling to the ground.

you don’t know how long it goes on for, time stopping for a moment from the intensity of a spark between you both through the kiss. but the screeching sound of the bell causes you to pull back, lifting your eyelids to see a flushed peter who keeps his eyes shut for a moment longer.

but once they do, his brown eyes gazing into yours, you feel the embarrassment course through you. people start to flood the halls, your bodies moving so your still questionably close and his arms fall to his side after a squeeze to your jaw.

“you don’t know how many times i’ve actually dreamed of that,” peter admits lowly to you, awaiting the giggle from your lips before chuckling fondly himself. your head falls into his chest in a means to hide your face, his body vibrating in laughter lost in the chatter of students around.

“i’ve never seen you so bold before,” peter continues, into your ear as a means of teasing you further. therefore, you pull away with a guilty expression looking back at hm, “my friends made me do it, because i’ve always had this massive crush on you.”

you fail to notice the prideful glint in peter’s eyes at the mention of being your crush, something he’s willing to discuss later, on a date perhaps. “well, let’s keep giving them what they want, yeah?” peter murmurs quietly, a small ‘hmm?’ emitting from your throat which is broken when peter’s fingers force your chin to face him once again.

this time your shocked at the feeling of peter’s lips against yours, a quick kiss settled to your mouth. much smaller due to the crowd of people walking past, but enough for your eyes to follow peter’s frame as he walks away with a wink, leaning down for his skateboard while promising you to discuss it later.

⤸

taglist form . the library . all blurbs

andrew!peter parker; masterlist

[everythingharrypotterblog]

quite a sight (peter parker x reader) [smut]

summary: set in the tasm universe. Peter gets his girlfriend y/n to help on a mission where she needs to infiltrate an Oscorp high-level executive party. her task? to seduce dr connors and peter has to watch the whole time. he had never seen her in action like that, dressed up to the absolute nines, but it is definitely a sight he cannot stop thinking about afterwards… 

warnings: nasty, nasty filthy smut. we get both sub! and dom! peter hehe.

a/n: I KNOW this isn’t harry potter related but like everyone else, i have been made andrew garfield’s bitch after no way home. im sorry?

Y/N laid down comfortably on her bed, one hand balancing the laptop propped up against her knee as her other held onto the metal straw she was chugging water through.

Hearing a muffled knock against her window, she tore her eyes from the movie she was watching to see Peter, or should she say Spider-Man, crawled up against it.

She smiled widely, setting her computer and glass of water on her nightstand before getting up from her bed to let him in.

“Baby,” She murmured excitedly as he crawled into her room, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her body into his. “Hi,” She smiled before resting her arms on his shoulders, yanking off his mask to plant a kiss upon his lips.

“You should see the other guy.” Peter said in response to Y/N’s look of concern once she pulled back and realized how bad the wounds on his face were.

Y/N frowned. “What happened tonight? Hold on, let me go get my things, then you’ll tell me—“

Peter locked his arm around her preventing her from pulling away, burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Mhmm, baby don’t leave. I’m very comfortable here actually.”

“Jeez, I forget how strong you are sometimes.” She rolled her eyes, allowing herself to melt into his embrace. Y/N smiled at the ceiling as she reached up to caress the soft locks of brown hair on his head soothingly. “You won’t be so comfy if you let that gash sit and leave a huge scar in the middle of your face.”

He let go of her begrudgingly, eyes following her to the bathroom and calling out, “Harry Potter has a scar on his face and he’s cool!”, behind her.

He hears her rummaging through her things in the bathroom and takes a seat on her bed, spotting her computer and the bag of chips that was half empty.

“Baby, you told me you were gonna be working tonight.” He chuckled, picking up the bag and popping a few chips into his mouth.

“I am working.” Y/N said, walking back into the room with a bin of medical supplies.

Peter raised his eyebrows at her, smirking slightly. “Little Women?” He said, tilting his head at her computer screen.

“It’s research!” Y/N giggled. “Not schoolwork, writing work.”

“You’re writing historical fiction?” He mused, following Y/N’s hand gestures and backing up against the headboard of her bed.

“Attempting to, anyway.” She said, setting the bin down, and laying out what she needed beside Peter.

She placed her hands on her hips, scrutinizing the various cuts and bruises on Peter’s face and pondering which one to begin with.

“You’re pretty.” Peter watched her, smiling his signature cheesy wide smile.

“Shut up.” Y/N scrunched her nose, eyes falling to the floor. She was in head to toe baggy clothes, wearing a pair of huge grey sweatpants that were Peter’s and didn’t fit at the waist, a worn out sweater that said ‘NYU School of Medicine’ on it, and her hair was in a day-old bun that barely held its shape. “You’re just saying that cause I’m tending to your wounds.”

“No, I’m not!” Peter laughed, swinging his torso forward to grab behind Y/N’s thighs and scoop her up to place her on top of his lap.

“Peter!” She yelped in surprise, bursting out in laughter. “Get your - bloody - ass- face,” she said between gasps, “off my shirt.”

She settled herself in a comfortable position on top of him, her sweatpants-clad legs straddling him. He sat still as she began stitching up his cuts, not daring to move, not in fear that she would mess up, but because he knew these were always great practice for her since she was learning to be a doctor.

When she moved onto the upper half of his face, he began talking about what had happened during his night.

He was just finishing his neighbourhood roundup when he noticed how the top floor light was open in the Oscorp building. Having once gotten very familiar with the tower during high school, he swung to the top and saw that someone was in the restricted lab through the window.

Dr. Curtis Connors had a brother, Derek Connors, who took over once Curtis was sent to prison.

“I saw what he was working on, and it looked exactly like Connors’, I mean Curtis, the older Connors— you know, cause they’re both Connors since they’re bothers— anyway, I think he’s recreating the Lizard serum.”

“What, are you sure?” Y/N said, taken aback, lifting the needle with her as she leaned up to be able to look at Peter’s entire face. He winced slightly, letting out an “Ouch!”, as Y/N apologized, rubbing the area soothingly and resuming her stitches.

“Yeah, well I couldn’t believe it when I was looking from outside so I broke in! It’s exactly the same experiment, and I think he’s managed to remake it perfectly, but I couldn’t get the one vial he made because he caught me. And he definitely already put some of it inside himself, because I fought him, and he definitely wasn’t… human.”

“But he looked human.”

“Yeah. Maybe he’s tweaked the serum and managed to maintain human form, but with all the power and strength as the original one.”

“Well, shit.” Y/N pursed her lip, sitting back as she finished cleaning up his face. “What do we do now? Calling the police’s no use, he’ll definitely cover it up really well…”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” Peter sighed, flopping back down upon the bed, his hands coming up to cup his face.

“I know that… I tell you all the time…” Y/N trailed her fingers along the blue parts of his suit that covered his lateral upper body. “But this suit looks really good on you.”

Peter sat up.

“You sure? I feel like I’ve never heard you say that.” He said, looking up at Y/N with his pupils dilating by the second. “Really good, you said?”

Y/N sucked in her cheek, nodding. “Really.” She said softly.

Peter hummed, grabbing at the material of her (his) sweatpants and pulling her hips up to his, greedy hands running up and down her butt and the small of her back underneath her sweater. He tilted his head, capturing Y/N’s lips in a bruising kiss.

He let out a light moan as Y/N ran her hands across his chest, feeling out how it stretched along the width between his two shoulders, before tugging the zipper in the back down. She rolled her hips, feeling him straining underneath her against his skintight suit.

“Peter!” Y/N gasped. 

Her hand met blood as she discovered a gash that went across his whole chest.

Peter grimaced. “Yeah… We really need to get that serum back.” He said, before placing his hand on the back of Y/N’s neck, his thumb stroking her cheek gently as he tried to lean forward, his eyes glued to her lips.

“Eaasy now, Spidey. You’re gonna bleed all over my bed.” Y/N said, shaking him off in spite of his protests and getting materials again.

Peter stared at her intently as she bandaged him up, admiring the sheer focus that took over her entire face. From time to time, Y/N’s eyes would dart to his and she would blush from being under his gaze.

“Thank you so much, darling.” Peter said once she finished, picking up all the bandage wrappers in one hand and tossing them perfectly into the trash bin. “Y’don’t know how much I appreciate you.” He took a piece of hair that had fallen in Y/N’s face in his fingers, carefully tucking it behind her ear.

“It’s my pleasure.”

Finally, he was able to bring her lips to his own again, feeling her sink into him as he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.

Closing his eyes, he felt his other senses over-heightened, Y/N’s sweet smell overwhelmingly clouding his mind.

“God, you smell so good baby.” He whispered between heavy breaths, tilting her head with one of his hands so he can kiss up the side of her neck, planting his lips against her pulse.

In particular, he smelled her arousal, coming from deep between her thighs and now that he had caught it, it consumed him in his entirety.

“I can smell how wet you are.” He said in her ear, “right here.” His hand slipped under her pants and grazed over her soft underwear, patting over the wet patch that he found there.

“Fuck”, Y/N moaned, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she grinded into his hand.

“Baby girl, you are so naughty don’t you think, getting turned on by cleaning up my wounds. You really like my chest that much?”

Y/N was at a loss for words, clinging onto her boyfriend as she spread her legs further, moving desperately against his hand in hopes he’d start moving his fingers instead of just resting them there.

Peter was utterly intoxicated by her, senses swirling and basking in the pure warmth that she was and how she became putty in his touch.

“You can do it sweetheart, use your words.” He said, gazing up at her flushed skin. He trailed his hand across her jaw and grabbed it lightly to lower it. “What do you want?”

+

“So I figured out how I’m going to steal Connors’ serum.”

“I’m listening…” Y/N answered, bending down to set the timer on the microwave to heat up her lunch.

They were in their university’s noisy cafeteria on one of the shared breaks they had throughout the week. It wasn’t easy for them to see each other at school, with Peter always in the Engineering building and Y/N, the medicine one, but they found themselves lucky enough to have been accepted in the same school and have a few of the same blank spots in their schedules.

Y/N straightened up, backing up from the microwave to join Peter against the wall.

“Okay, so there’s this event thing going on at Oscorp this Friday, I overheard some of the interns complaining they weren’t invited to it this morning. I think it’s some charity thing, which probably means every high-level employee will be there, including Connors. Security has really tightened since a few years ago, so it’s not just a password anymore to get in.” Peter explained in a hushed voice close to Y/N’s ear.

“What do you need to get in now?”

“Connors’ fingerprints…”

Y/N grimaced. “How the fuck are you going to get that?”

Peter scratched the back of his head. “I’m not sure…”

They were interrupted by the ding of the microwave, and Peter rushed to get Y/N’s food and held the container for her as they made their way into the seating area and searched for two empty spots.

“There’s no way I can get the fingerprints myself, Connors knows who I am, but maybe there’s someone I can send to get them.. like a waiter with a napkin or something.”

Y/N nodded, enjoying watching Peter think out loud, his eyes focused behind his glasses.

“We need all 5 fingerprints though… so a handshake would be the easiest way to get…” He continued, as they walked past crowded tables. absent-mindedly pulling out the chair for Y/N before he sat down opposite her, putting down her lunch container in front of her. “Who does he now know… that could go just pretend to meet him and shake his hand…”

Y/N’s eyes widened and the corners of her lips slowly tugged upwards in an excited smile as she stopped dead in her tracks. Peter met his girlfriend’s gaze and seemed to read her mind, shaking his head profusely.

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No, no, no, no, no—“ He said, still shaking his head vigorously.

“Yes, please, you have to let me—“

“No, there’s no way you’re getting involved in this stuff—“

“Oh come on, I’ll just be posing as a guest and—“

“No,” Peter huffed, placing both hands on Y/N’s arms, the container in his hands falling for half a second before Peter realized and scooped it up in mid air. He placed it on the table they were standing beside, before going to wrap his arms around Y/N’s waist and pulling her closer into him. “Darling, it’s not that I don’t think you’re up for it, please, but he is far too dangerous for you to be around. I would never place you in that type of risk and it just- it scares me to absolute death to even think of something happening to you…”

Y/N smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and gently playing with the small tendrils of chestnut hair at the back of his head. “Pete, I promise, everything will be fine. We’ll wear earpieces, and you could keep lookout on the building beside Oscorp and have eyes on the situation at all times. And I promise, the second things get risky, if things even get risky, I’m running out of there and you’ll swing by to catch me.”

Peter sighed, looking away in thought.

“Oh come on baby, pleease. Please, will you let your girlfriend have her super cool undercover agent spy moment?”

Peter laughed, shaking his head as he nuzzled his nose against Y/N’s. After a long moment of tension and mental back-and-forth, he caved.

“Fine.” He said. “Only cause you were begging so hard to do it.”  

Y/N squealed, jumping up and kissing him on the cheek. “So, you’re a fan of begging, huh?” She teased, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

Peter laughed again, shaking his head while slightly blushing. “No, I just meant, ugh, you know what I meant!”

They both laughed as Peter absent-mindedly pulled out the chair for Y/N as they sat down for lunch.

+

Y/N set down her eyeliner as she saw Peter’s name pop up on the phone screen and swiped right to pick up his call.

“Hi baby, what’s up?”

“Hey love.” Peter’s voice rang through the speaker. “You getting ready?”

“Yeah… I’m almost done.” Y/N said, face an inch away from her bathroom mirror as she finished tracing her eyeliner wing. 

“Okay, okay that’s great. How you feelin’?”

“I’m feeling great, how are you feeling?” Y/N chuckled, picking up on the stress in his voice.

“Fine, fine. Um listen, there was a bit of a jam and I don’t think I’ll have time to pick you up, I’m so sorry love. Is there any way you can get a ride to Oscorp?”

“Um…” Y/N hummed, moving on to her other eye. “Yeah, I’ll ask my brother to drive me, he never asks too many questions. Where are you?”

“Traffic jam.” Peter said with a grunt, as he swung across the bridge to land atop a truck.

“Oh my God, are you swinging right now?!”

“Yeah, but don’t worry angel, it’s all good!” He said, phone pressed to his ear as he propelled himself forward onto the top of another truck. “Just spotted a car thief last minute and the police are way too behind.”

“Mhmm okay, be careful.”

“Hey, my love? I need you to be careful tonight.” Peter said, suddenly sounding serious.

Y/N smiled at her phone screen. “You don’t have to worry. You’ll have eyes on me at all times, right?”

“Never leaving my sight.”

“So, I’ll be fine.” Y/N said, taking the cap off the red lipstick she never got the chance to use.

“Okay, I love you.” Peter relaxed. “So, did you find a super fancy red dress?” He said, sitting down on top of the truck. The car thief was just one vehicle ahead of him, he had time.

“Wha- I have a dress, yes, but it’s not red.” Y/N said, sliding through the royal blue silk dress she once bought herself even though she had absolutely no idea when she would ever get the chance to wear something like this. She was very grateful right now however, that she hadn’t returned it.

“Oops, my bad. I feel like every femme fatale like character’s always wearing this extravagant red dress.”

Y/N laughed out loud, shaking her hand even though Peter couldn’t see her. “You’re so cute, Pete. I’m not wearing red, unfortunately, but my lipstick is red!”

“Nice…” Peter licked his lips under his mask involuntarily. “What about the rest though?”

“Hey, now put some trust in your mission partner! You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Peter smiled to himself bashfully. He could tell she was having way too much fun with this.

“Okay darling, I’ve got to catch this guy now.” Peter said as he began to stand up on the moving truck. They were approaching a highway exit. “I’ll text you when I’m at Oscorp, I love you.”

“Don’t swing and text!” Y/N called out as she pinned her hair back in a sleek bun, taking her phone. “I love you too.” She said, before she heard the line hang up.

Taking a step back, she took in her appearance in the mirror. There was little to no way anyone would be able to mistake her as a simple university student.

“Okay.” She gave herself a little nod of approval. “Let’s do this.”

+

Peter pulled out his phone as he sat down to catch his breath. He had managed to get to Oscorp ahead of his meetup time with Y/N and found a window-cleaning platform on the building next to Oscorp Tower that gave him perfect view of everything happening inside it. If he squinted slightly, with his heightened vision, he was able to see the Oscorp logo on every little champagne flute the waiters were stacking.

Y/N got out her brother’s car, and began walking towards the Oscorp lobby. She was a few buildings away, which gave her perfect time to attach her earpiece. As she did so, she attempted to scan the high-rise buildings around her, trying to find where Peter may have installed himself.

“Hello? Peter? I don’t know if I put this thing right, can you hear me?” She said as her heels clicked against the ground.

Peter turned his head and immediately recognized a young woman walking towards Oscorp as Y/N. His jaw dropped and he ripped his mask off his head.

Y/N looked exquisite. Peter was utterly in love with her at every given time of any single day, but very rarely did he see her dressed up like this. In a blue silk dress that highlighted her physique, with her hair put back to match the elegant silhouette it created. She wasn’t wearing that much makeup, just a tiny line to bring out her eyes but Peter was mesmerized by the deep shade of red that her lips were painted in. He felt his chest warm up, unable to believe that someone so beautiful was his to love.

“Peter?” Y/N tried again, looking up more obviously now to the sky.

“Yeah.” Peter choked into his own earpiece. “I-I’m, uh, I’m here.”

He saw her smile at the sound of his stammering voice coming through into her ear.

“So, how do I look? Even though I’m not in red.”

Peter wasn’t able to take his eyes off of her. “You are… quite a sight, my love. You look so good, baby, I love your hair, and your makeup and… that dress. Fuck.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows slightly in pleasant surprise. Peter’s voice was coming through as slightly huskier than usual in the earpiece, which she wasn’t going to complain about.

“Thank you.” She smiled. “You ready?” 

The mission. Right. Peter had almost forgotten why they were here in the first place. 

“Ready.” He answered back.

Y/N gave a subtle nod. “I almost forgot,” she said, pulling out a small sparkly brooch. “The camera, so you can see everything I see.” 

She tugged on the thin strap of her dress slightly to clip it, Peter pulling his eyes away and forcing himself not to look. It was an innocent sight, but he felt himself get hot from the smallest of actions, and he did not need to have his mind clouded right now. 

Y/N turned into the entrance of Oscorp. Peter watch her ever step, trying not to let his mind wander with every look he took at her. He was realizing just how much she was helping him in the secret role of Spider-Man that had taken up most of his life. His heart fluttered slightly at the thought.

“Hey, before you go on!” Peter said.

Y/N slowed her steps down, tilting her head to the side in question as she pretended to let other guests pass her in the line.

“I love you.”

Y/N smiled, eyes fluttering to the ground. “I love you too, Spidey.” She whispered in the faintest of whispers, not even sure if what she said would get picked up by the earpiece.

The security guards let her into the event without batting an eye, and Y/N slowly felt her nerves dissipate as she carefully made her way into the gala. 

All eyes were on her now.

+

“Y/N, leave right this instant.” Peter ordered, hunching over on the tall platform he had spent the last hour on.

“No, I can get it, I’ll just get him to dance and I know how to sneak and steal it—“

“No, no, no, no, no, this is getting too risky, leave—“

“You’re back!” Y/N chimed brightly, cutting Peter off mid-sentence as she put on her best smile as Dr. Derek Connors returned to their table, two martini glasses in hand. “Thank you.”

A groan pierced through Y/N’s earpiece, which she ignored.

The whole operation had gone extremely smoothly. Y/N entered the charity gala without a hitch and within a quarter of an hour, had already attracted Connors’ attention. It caught Peter by pleasant surprise just how smooth Y/N was at playing this character, much more smooth than he’d ever be undercover, as she charmed her way through guests enough for them to like her, but not enough for them to really remember her name.

She made Connors’ acquaintance and they shook hands, successfully getting his five fingerprints onto the lace glove she was wearing. However, she found herself trapped in his presence for another half hour as he insisted on sitting with her and after him talking endlessly about his career, they uncovered the unfortunate fact that not only did they need his prints to enter the lab, but a small key as well. 

The key in question, as Connors not-so-smartly revealed to Y/N, was in the breast pocket of the very suit he was wearing right now.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.” Peter grunted into Y/N’s ear.

She clenched her jaw, barely perceptible, but she knew he could see it.

“Dr Connors,” She said innocently, making doe eyes at him. “Oh, I don’t know if this would be appropriate.”

“Oh, darling, don’t be shy, feel free to tell me anything.” Dr. Connors leaned forward.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Actually, it is inappropriate, you’re more than twice her age, asshole. Plus, why’d he have to say ‘darling’ in such a disgusting tone, oh God, please don’t tell me that’s what I sound like when I call you that?! Because I quite like calling you ‘darling’, I think it’s one of the cutest—“

Y/N cleared her throat to quiet her boyfriend. If she was about to pull off what she was about to do, she couldn’t afford having this much chatter in her ear. 

“Would you like to dance?” She asked, pulling off her lace gloves slowly so that his prints wouldn’t get smudged when he’d hold her hands to dance.

Dr. Connors watched her hands, nodding fervently.

“Oh, come on.” Peter groaned.

Y/N merely smiled, pressing her lips together as Dr. Connors took her bare hand and walked her to the dance floor. He snaked a hand around her waist, the material feeling incredibly thin all of a sudden as Y/N felt her shoulders tense.

Peter noticed the muscles in her neck flex.

“Just relax, my love. Close your eyes, pretend it’s me.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, batting her eyelashes at Connors to make sure he wasn’t catching on as he began to lead them in a tight waltz across the floor. She gave the smallest of nods.

“Just so you know, I’m still mad at you for doing this.” Peter said, although his voice didn’t reflect any anger.

Y/N smiled as she rested her chin on Dr. Connors’ shoulder. She imagined it was Peter’s much stronger, broader one.

“I’d have one of my hands on your waist. And then, I probably wouldn’t be able to help myself and wrap a whole arm around you, just to hold you nice and snug against me.” Peter narrated, his soft voice sounding breathless through Y/N’s ear. “And maybe… I’d let my hand wander slightly down to palm over your ass… just for a second though. This is a classy setting after all.”

Peter saw her let out a small breath through her nose, the beginning of a laugh, and he smiled, happy to know she was calmer.

Y/N raised the hand that was on Connors’ shoulder up to his ear, gently playing with the blond hair that was behind it. She felt his breath quicken against her, and did her best to disguise the disgust on her face. Attempting to distract him and direct his attention to that side of his body, she let go of his hand and wrapped both of her hands around his neck.

Dr. Connors hummed happily and gripped her waist with both of his hands.

“He wishes.” Peter growled, focusing on the man’s hands that were holding onto what wasn’t his. 

Y/N took the chance and started sliding both her hands down his chest, one right over the breast pocket. She felt a small bump. The key.

“You’re doing so beautifully, darling.” Peter whispered. “If only he knew everything you could truly do, or what we’ll be doing once I get us home all lone, with you still in that dress.”

Y/N bit her lip, eyes focused on the task at hand. Her left hand dropped to his leg, sliding it up along his pants as she directed his attention away from her right hand, which was slowly pushing the key up along the pocket.

She was too much of a sight to see.

“God, I can’t wait to tug those tiny straps off your shoulders, lift up the hem. Bare those pretty legs that are underneath…”

Peter was breathing hard now, watching her hands gloss over Connors’ suit. He reached down and felt his cock hard, threatening to burst out of his suit.

Y/N’s heart was beating immensely fast, the combination of Peter’s dirty words and sounds mixing in with the adrenaline of stealing the key from right under Dr. Connors’ nose.

A bit more, and a part of the golden key appeared at the top of the pocket, her hand swiping sensually over his chest as she curled her palm around it.

Thankfully, the song ended right then and there, and Y/N broke away from the doctor, not daring to open her sweaty fist clamped around the key.

Her cheeks and neck were flushed red as she said, “Excuse me, I have to go to the ladies’ room”, before breaking out into a fast walk, leaving Dr Connors planted on the dance floor smoothing over his pants with his hands, with a satisfied smirk on his face.

Peter, studying the scene, leapt from his position by the 30th floor, swinging onto Oscorp.

“Babe, get your ass down here.” Y/N muttered through gritted teeth as she walked as fast as she could out of the venue, ignoring the employee who asked her about her checked coat.

“Already on it.” He said.

Y/N’s heartbeat echoed in her ears as she made her way to the lobby, heels clicking against the floor, checking over her ear for people that may have followed her.

She reached the side of the street and looked left and right, before she felt herself get swept up by a familiar touch.

Wrapping her arms and legs around Peter, she let out a long breath, closing her eyes and letting her body relax as Peter held onto her, swinging them across the city back to his house.

+

Peter slid open his window, letting Y/N into his room before climbing through himself.

“We did it!!!” Y/N yelled, jumping onto Peter. The two jumped up and down in unison in a celebratory hug.

Peter watched and held her as she rambled on, “—the rush! I thought I was having a heart attack, I thought for sure he could hear my heart beating that hard and when I walked out! It’s like no one knew I was carrying this huge, huge secret …”

Y/N’s words trailed off as she looked up at Peter who was looking down at her with yearning eyes. She bit her lip.

Slowly unwrapping her fist, she gave Peter the small golden key.

“Thanks.” Peter said, not looking away as he grabbed it and carelessly tossed it onto his nightstand.

His brown eyes were staring intently, yet softly, at Y/N, and she saw how his pupils had dilated into dark orbs.

“I-Is my makeup smudged?” Y/N asked in a small voice.

Peter smiled, shaking his head. He turned them around so he could take a seat at the edge of his bed.

Y/N had never seen him like this… entranced to this level. The confidence she had gained back at Oscorp was multiplying itself. She was going to have fun.

“So, did you like my look tonight?” She said, giving Peter a small twirl.

Peter let out a shy ‘yes’, blushing and covering his face with his hands, falling back onto the bed with a bashful smile.

Y/N advanced until her knees hit his, then lifted the hem of the dress for her legs to lift up to each side, taking a seat on top of him.

Peter sat back up, feeling her body on top of his. Instinctively, his hands found her hips, playing with the thin material of her dress that was bunched up on each side.

“You were amazing tonight. And you’re so so beautiful… I’m the luckiest in the world.” Peter said as he nuzzled into her neck, placing slow kisses along it.

His hands were about to reach the round, full globes of her ass, before Y/N tutted, grabbing them and sending them back, putting Peter in a lying down position with his arms above his head.

“No touching. Yet.” Y/N leaned down to approach his face to his, taking note of how Peter’s eyes darted to her lips, that were still stained a deep shade of red.

Normally, there would have been instant protest from Peter. He was always more dominant, loving to go and take what he wanted. Y/N absolutely loved it, but tonight he remained silent. Gulping, he nodded his head vigorously as his eyes widened, chest heaving up and down in shallow breaths.

He was putty under her, completely mesmerised.

“You sure had a lot to say earlier, didn’t you?” Y/N murmured, lowering herself to an inch away from his face. “So distracting, I could’ve blown my cover at any moment.”

She lowered her lips onto his, feeling his move hungrily against hers, suckling and pulling them between his. She felt Peter’s hands that were above his head itch forward, and she squeezed his palms in hers, locking them in place.

Lifting her face up from his, she licked the outline of his mouth, that had been beautifully stained red by her.

“I know I probably weigh like a feather to you,” she said, letting go of his hands. “But you’re going to stay still for me, okay baby?”

Peter nodded, gasping at how seductive this confidence Y/N wore was to him. He was rendered quite speechless.

Slowly, Y/N let go of his hands, her own coming down to smooth over his broad chest, his chest that she loved so much, especially clad in the Spider-Man suit. Peter bucked his hips up, hitting against Y/N’s core, and he let out an eager moan.

“Baby… please.” He said with pleading eyes, his big brown doe eyes staring into Y/N.

Y/N pursed her lips together, setting her lower body down on him. She grinded her hips, feeling the outline of Peter’s plump cock rub heavenly against her clit. Y/N placed her hands on his solid abs to stabilize herself as she continued to slowly drag her core up and down him.

“Fuck.” Peter gasped. His arms longed to reach down and touch her, any part of her would do, but he resisted, clenching his fingers into tight fists. The muscles of his arm and forearm flexed deliciously.

Y/N hummed at the sight, lifting herself off and gestured to him to help her take off his suit. It was too tight for Peter to wear underwear underneath, so once freed, his cock bounced up against his stomach, stiff as concrete.

Peter’s eyes followed Y/N closely, eagerness pouring through to see what she was to do next.

She definitely felt her mouth water at the sight of his cock, from the way it blushed red and leaked already, he had been hard for a while. She approached the gash on his chest that she had stitched together a few nights before, kissing alongside it, enjoying watching his pectorals rise and fall with every breath he took.

Dragging her tongue down his slim torso, she reached underneath his navel. Just before she could get to where Peter was throbbing almost painfully for her, she lifted up once more, earning herself a desperate whimper from his throat.

“Aw baby, it’s okay. Be patient. You’ll get what you need.”

She stood up on the bed to turn around, back facing him.

“I can tell how much you liked this dress, just want you to get a good look at it before I took it off.”

Peter licked his lips, looking up and saying in a low voice, “You are quite a fucking sight, my love.”

Y/N once again put a leg on either side of him, and went on all fours, this time facing backwards, giving Peter a full view of her ass. All that was hiding her cheeks was the thin silk blue material.

Peter took a whiff with his advanced sense of smell and felt his eyes roll to the back of his head. 

“You’re soaking.” He panted.

“Yeah, wanna see?” Y/N asked, lifting the sides of her dress to reveal the tiniest black thong barely covering her mound, as indeed, some arousal dripped on the side down her inner thigh.

“Jesus- fuck.” Peter winced, the pressure building to an ultimate high.

His cock twitched next to Y/N’s face and before Peter’s head lifted itself high enough for him to bury his face between her legs, it was thrown back again in pleasure once Y/N wrapped her lips around the head, sucking it.

Peter fell apart underneath her, letting out a string of breathy curses as his whole body trembled. Y/N moaned with him in her mouth, taking him deeper and running her tongue along the thick vein on the side of it.

Peter couldn’t take it anymore, it was like putting candy in front of a kid and telling them not to eat it. He lifted his head, tonguing at Y/N’s cunt through her warm panties. Hearing her sweet moan, he continued, peeling her thong back and down her thighs as he ran his tongue through her slick and glistening folds, drinking in every drop of her taste.

“Please, m-more.” Y/N whimpered, lifting herself off his cock.

Peter obliged enthusiastically, seizing handfuls of Y/N’s butt and pulling her down onto his face, drowning himself in her.

Y/N’s dress fell all around his head, but he didn’t give a single shit about feeling muffled. He licked sloppily at her clit, drawing wet circles with his tongue as his entire face was engulfed in her, her wetness dripping and coating his chin and nose. He sighed contently, closing his eyes as he ate her out, his own cock pulsing inside Y/N’s mouth.

Y/N managed to pull herself away from Peter’s hold, turning around. She took a seat on his abdomen, her wetness smearing across the defined muscles. Finally, she slipped the dress over her shoulders and took off her bra and soaked underwear.

Peter smiled at her, eyes clouded with desire.

“Wanna feel you in me.”

“Go on then, baby girl. C’mon, slip me in, easy now.” Peter grunted, hands resting on Y/N’s thighs as he watched her slide a condom on and slowly sink down onto him. “There we go.”

Y/N sighed breathily, clenching then relaxing as her walls accommodated Peter’s length. She began to grind, trying to find that spot inside her that made her lose all control.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” Peter said between pants, watching Y/N shut her eyes. “Ride daddy’s dick, that’s it.” He lifted his hips gently, thrusting himself deeper into her.

Y/N moaned, moving her hips faster on top of him. “Baby, touch me please.” She asked shyly.

“You sure?”

“Yes, please!”

Peter did not need any more confirmation. Sitting up straight, he wrapped a strong arm around Y/N’s back to pull her to him. He could not think of a more exquisite sight in front of him, stuffing his face between her bare breasts, before taking one in his mouth, suckling on the nipple. He used his free hand to rub against the other.

“Fuck,” Y/N let out a strangled cry, dropping her head to rest it on Peter’s shoulder as the two moved their hips in a synchronized rhythm, their bodies melting into one another’s.

“You like how my cock feels, don’t you angel?” Peter whispered, biting the lobe of her ear as his hand reached up to caress her hair. “Hmm? Look at me baby, lemme hear you say it.”

Y/N lifted her head from his shoulder, looking at his face through heavy eyes. “I love your cock,” she mustered, through parted lips.

Peter gave a satisfied smile, growling as he continued to drive himself in her, feeling the head of his penis hit the spongy area inside her he knew she loved. She was clenching around him so tight, squeezing his dick so well it was taking everything in him not to burst right here and right now.

He trailed his hand down her stomach and reached her clit, feeling her jump at the contact before moaning deeply as he started to rub it.

She was so close, the combined pressure inside and out on her clit about to culminate to a boiling point.

Until Peter stopped. He removed his hand from her clit, rolled them over to place Y/N on his back and slowly pulled out of her.

“What the fuck?!” Y/N sobbed, bringing her knees together at the overwhelming emptiness that came upon her.

“Aw, sweetheart.” Peter crawled up to her, gripping her jaw and kissing her lips softly. “Did you really think you’d get away with teasing me like that? Not letting me touch you?”

He ran his hand down her entire front, pausing right at her clit before slipping two hooked fingers into her cunt easily. Y/N let out a gasp, arching her back off the bed. It was better, having his long fingers find their place inside her again, but they didn’t fill her up like his cock had, mere seconds ago.

“You’re so perfect,” Peter said amid heavy breaths, trailing kisses along her collarbone, refusing to move the fingers that were inside her. “Absolutely… ravishing.”

“Please, Peter,” Y/N whimpered, opening her eyes and staring pleadingly into his, similarly to how he did a few minutes ago when the roles were quite reversed. She spread her legs, going to grab Peter’s wrist and beckoning him to move.

Peter could never get over the way his name sounded when she said it. He could listen to it a million times and still, it would do him in every single time.

“Oh, but I’m doing the same thing as you, darling. You wanted to take your time, I’m doing the same with you.”

He curled his fingers inside her, moving them slowly. Y/N bit her lip, attempting to undulate her hips to get more stimulation.

“You should’ve seen yourself tonight, babe. It was so hard,” He grunted, removing his hand and bringing it to her mouth, watching her suck on his long fingers. “Taste, yourself sweetheart. It was so hard, watching you charm and finesse all those Oscorp men, and having to do that from a whole rooftop away.”

He lined himself up, grabbing the base of his cock, but instead of sliding in her, he dragged the tip through her folds, slapping her clit with it. Another desperate whimper from Y/N.

“You were so powerful, and yet look at you now, baby. Unable to speak, whining for my cock, begging me to fuck you.” Peter said, putting the head in. “I bet they wished they could see you like this, the elegant lady they met utterly fucked out, making a mess on my bed,” Peter thumbed at her bottom lip, the red lipstick smudged.

“Goddamn it Peter, just fuck me already!” Y/N panted.

With a thrust of his hips, he plunged himself deep within her walls once more, finding her G-spot and driving his cock into it.

Y/N screamed as she clutched onto his back for dear life, as Peter let himself go, driving into her with all the force he could muster.

Shuddered groans echoed from deep within his chest, into Y/N’s ears as the two chased their orgasms. With a cry, they both came, Peter burying his face in her neck, not bothering to try to catch another breath before kissing her.

He collapsed on top of her, their legs intertwined as finally, very very slowly, he pulled out of her.

They both calmed their breathing down, lying beside each other for a small while, before Peter turned to face Y/N.

“Did I hurt you?” Peter asked in a concerned, small voice, brushing Y/N’s hair out of her face.

“Not at all,” she smiled, turning on her side as well and capturing Peter’s lips in his.

+

They had fallen asleep mere minutes later like that, and the next morning, Peter woke with a startle.

“I gotta get to Oscorp!” He said.

“Why, you can’t break in later at night, when everyone leaves?” Y/N groaned groggily, curling up in Peter’s arms.

“You left your coat there last night.”

“Oh.”

The two giggled, Peter sinking back down under the blankets, resting a protective hand on Y/N’s hip, tracing gentle circles on it with his thumb. He looked to the side, taking a glance at the small golden key that was on it before his eyelids fluttered shut to sleep.

lmk what yall think ! <3

I also wanna do blurbs/headcanons, so if anyone has a nsfw idea or fluff, send it in pls and I’ll expand on it!!!! I just wanna talk ab this character lol

[shadowgasp]

Here’s a ton of stills I took of That Moment in NWH and edited to better quality

I have a problem

Also, this 👇

Because ✨pretty✨

[clints-lucky-arrow]

Peter Parker x F!Reader. [Andrew Garfield!Spiderman.]

There’s something strange about Peter. Something odd, and uncommon. It calls itself ‘Venom’. As much as he tries to fight it - struggling against this new presence - it doesn’t stop some deep rooted desires from rising to the surface.

WARNINGS: Soft!Dub-Con (Due to Venom). Explicit Sexual Content. Vaginal Fingering. Slight Choking. Dirty Talk. Vaginal Sex. Not Beta-Read. Minorly Edited.

MASTERLIST || TAGLIST

*I do not give permission for any of my works or their included components to be copied, rewritten, translated, or reposted - even with credit.*

Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated.

Your voice is worried - tinged with concern. “What’s the matter with your suit?”

Peter doesn’t answer. He’s soaked. Completely drenched to the skin. His usually full brown hair is plastered to his skull, strands hanging low over his forehead - and he looks pale. Ghostly, almost. Face a shade whiter than usual, and his usually warm brown eyes burning with an icy chill. 

Rain splatters off him as he crosses the room - leaving the window open in his wake. 

Concerned, you close the book on your lap. It drops back onto the coffee table with a dull thud, but you’re on your feet at the next moment. He’s yet to speak. Worry rises thick in the back of your throat. The hem of the bath robe swishes at your thighs as you pass the rear of the sofa. Your gaze is keen on his face.

“Peter, are you alright?”

Your hands raise with the intent to reach for him. He reacts before you can. Lightning fast, and far rougher than usual. Fingers grip your shoulder. The hold hurts, just for a moment - and then he shoves you back. Rough. Hard. Your back slams into the wall of your apartment, and a gasp of shock hitches in your throat.

He’s never done that before. 

Peter is kind. He’s careful, and he’s tender when it comes to you. This is different, and you already know that something is wrong with your best friend. 

He steps forward - dripping with rainwater, and burning cold. A firm chest pushes against yours forcefully - the red and blue of his suit replaced by inky black. Your hands go to his shoulders. It’s reflex, despite how everything feels wrong. They flutter worriedly over him. Searching for wounds or blood, but finding nothing. He’s barely bruised. Just so pale that it hits this instinctual, nervous thing inside of you, and sets off alarm bells in the back of your mind. Reflecting this, your teeth clamp nervously on your lower lip.

It rolls anxiously, caught between the firm grip. Peter’s eyes follow the movement with a near feral hunger. Your throat constricts tightly - squeezing out a suddenly nervous gulp. His hand raises from his side. Almost tender, his index finger skates across the line of your cheekbone. It falls, then. Tracing the curve of your face as it lowers - before lowering further. 

There’s a split second of nothing, before his fingers wrap firmly around your throat. At the same time, you’re aware of his other hand. It slides up the inside of your thighs down below - trailing a freezing line across your skin. Your robe parts in allowance, and a gasp tears from your throat as he drags it all the way up, before brushing the edge along the curve of your panties. Fuck.

He shifts in closer, and his nose skates up your collarbone. Even through the cloud building in your mind, you’re aware that the puff of his breath feels unnaturally cold. While you try to centre yourself - grasping at reality, he rubs two fingers over the rapidly-dampening spot over your core. You try to fight the feelings building inside. Try to force yourself to remember that this is your best friend, and that something is wrong - but it’s like your mind grows addled with his proximity. 

Lips press against your neck. Soft. Freezing. Threatening to burn your skin like ice, just as he continues to coax you down below. His digits slide across the slit of your underwear. You can feel your cunt already responding. How your body reacts to him - needily accepting a touch that you’ve long desired. Already, your underwear is dampening. 

And that’s before he slips inside the fabric. 

Your head falls back - mouth open and rasping. His own lips whisper upward. The trail of kisses rises from your neck to work along the edge of your jaw. Rough teeth catch in a sharp nip against your chin. It has your chest hitch in a sudden gasp. Already, it aches - and you’re not sure if he’s broken skin. Down below, something hard and insistent presses into your lower stomach. 

His fingers glide through the wet folds of your cunt. You can feel him gathering the wetness that he finds there. He’s languid. Slow. Almost teasing as his digits swirl - playing amidst the arousal that he finds there. As you gasp, responding to the bolts of stimulation firing as he rolls your clit almost expertly, Peter leans in - voice hoarse against your ear.

“I’m sorry. I can’t stop.”

It’s hard to comprehend what he’s saying. Not when two digits - his index and middle fingers - slide inside of your heated core. The intrusion has you moaning. Boneless. Forehead sinking to rest upon his firm chest as he pumps them within you. His fingers are curled - expertly angled. Each push jolts through you. It feels amazing. Incredible. It’s hard to focus on anything other than his touch inside of you, and his lips whispering against your earlobe.

“There was something out there. It sunk into me. I can feel it now - rising up. I’ve always wanted you, baby - but not like this.”

His fingers goad you on - pumping. Perfectly angled. Jolting deep inside of your core. Leaving you whimpering, and clawing at his arm. You cum hard, cunt flexing around his digits. Tears burn in the corner of your eyes at the intensity. A cry - his name - tears from your throat, and he crowds closer. Part of him is Peter Parker, and part not. 

“I know, sweetheart. I know. I’m so sorry.”

His hands are on your hips. Spinning you around, and pressing you closer against the wall. You can feel his hands against your thighs - gliding up under your robe to glide down your panties. One presses against your back. It pushes you forward. Makes you arch - ass out in a way that almost pitifully pleading, and back arched. Behind, he looms closer - still in the suit. 

You already hear the hidden zip on his suit descend from behind. 

Peter’s voice is tortured and husky in your ear. “His name is Venom. I’m trying to fight him. I promise. God. He just - He’s making me do this. I’ve always wanted to, but he’s just... I can’t stop him, and I- I want you bad. I’ve wanted you always. So fucking bad.”

His cock presses against the burning slit of your cunt. The words invade your mind. You can’t help but throb - feeling how much you need him. Whatever this is, it has an effect on you too. It’s like a fucking pheromone. Renders you helpless, left with only the need to have him fuck you. Like a bitch in heat, spurred by whatever swells thick in the air, it reaches into the most primal part of your brain.  

“Like that, baby,” he mumurs, before pitching in.

You moan - words breaking apart in your throat. All that you can feel is how he slides between your folds - stretching them. Making you cry out. The sound rings, dissipating into the air of your empty apartment. Low, and underneath his breath, Peter curses. Your palms are flat against the length of wall - facing away from him. Everything within you feels the slow drag of his cock as he pulls out, before quickly spearing back in again. 

Filled. Full. It’s enough to nearly have you coming on the spot. His hands tangle in your hair - tugging it back. Making you arch further, until it’s nearly painful. Shallowed breaths sound in your ear as he fills you again. His cock throbs deep within you. Insatiable. Unable to get enough. 

His voice is ragged. “I wanted to take you out. Wanted to tell you that I love you. Because - fuck, sweetheart. I love you. I wanted it to be different but I can’t -” He thrusts in again - sharp and hard. “It’s Venom. He’s saying to take you, and I can’t quite... Fuck.”

Your body moves - fucking back against him. Letting him feel it all. The push of his cock is heaven. It invades every sliver of your senses. Your palms are sweaty against the cool wall. His cock shears through you - right to the hilt. Peter’s hand slides around your front, only delaying to briefly fondle your breasts, and then reaches for your throat. You can feel his lips whispering against your hair as he presses in. 

“Fuck me,” you breathe, unable to hold back after the passing months - nearly years - of tension. “Please, just fuck me until I can’t walk.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated.

A/N: Please ignore any mistakes. I am a little tipsy writing this.

MASTERLIST || TAGLIST

[embrassemoi]

It’s bisexual visibility day so shout out to all my favourite fictional bisexuals

[sincericida]

I'm unwell.

[venus616]

streets; {tasm!peter parker}

Pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader (writing challenge is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker if you so please)

Summary: and I can’t be without you, why can’t I find no one like you? (lyrics by doja cat, streets)

Part of @liz-allyn's 900th celebration! (congratulations btw <3) the prompt I chose to work with is "Not My Peter"; post no way home, tasm peter comes back to his home dimension with a new lease on life. problem is, another, identical peter parker is happy to take it for himself. that includes you.

Warnings: established relationship, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, dubious consent (dubcon), consensual non consensual (cnc), unprotected sex, morally gray, moral themes, 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N (PLS READ): this is a dark fic, please do not read if you are uncomfortable with these themes being explored or believe it will trigger you :( I am not responsible for the media/fics you consume, so only open at your own risk! ty~

more here: the aftermath | the bet

You anxiously checked your phone for any texts from Peter, awaiting his return by the time you got back from work today. Sometimes you wondered if it was worth having Spider-Man as a husband, but twice as much when he was doing multi-dimensional travel semi-regularly. You know that he wouldn’t be able to reach you if he was still on a different earth or universe or- 

Whatever he calls it. You find it difficult to keep up. 

So the only signal you would get that he was okay is when he texts you that he’s back safe. You walk into your shared apartment with groceries, carefully taking out the chocolate milk to put in the fridge for him. You hear chimes behind you and feel a cold breeze as you bend over with the fridge door open, but know it wasn’t coming from your area.

You immediately turn around and see the white eyes of his suit staring back at you from the distance in the shimmery portal of a vague, typical New York rooftop.

When you see one, your eyes scan from left to right, and notice there’s two of them. 

He also has explained the fact that there were Spider-Men, people (or anything) in countless universes to you before but you could never quite wrap your head around it. But, you remembered enough from those honest conversations to recognize that this was one of those cases. 

They seem deep in conversation, but you couldn’t tell who was who as the suits and physical builds were identical. Both had the masks fully on and they shook hands, perched on the edge of the roof. But, one continues to glance at you during. You waved for whichever one was yours and got your answer as the second pair of bug eyes turned back around to run towards you, waving a peace sign to the other Spider figure. 

As soon as Peter jumps back into your world, you wrap your hands around him, opening your eyes and catching the lifeless stare of the other Spider-Man before the portal closes. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Peter says, slightly muffled underneath his mask. You grin while nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck before responding. 

“Good, I can’t afford to compete with the multiverse,” You feel his hand caressing your head, gently gesturing for you to look at him as he removes his mask. You instantly feel relief seeing him back with you, safe and not finding random injuries on him. 

Your hands immediately reach for his face, running over every line and crease of his smile from his cheeks to his eyes. 

“You’re always gonna be my number one priority. Remember?” Peter reminds you as he places his much larger hand over yours on his face, fingers pressed onto your ring. 

It had been a little over a year since the actual wedding, and you don’t think you’d get over the fact that you married the love of your life. 

“I love you,” You mutter, leaning into his personal space even more to kiss him. He accepts your advancement and kisses you back. His lips are chapped against your soft ones, but you love it all the same as the pressure he placed against them was so light. You almost lose your breath trying to reciprocate the softness he was providing you, dizzied when he echoes your words. 

“I love you, too.” 

Before you could even think, you laid beside Peter in bed, your hair disheveled while Peter’s just got even more messier than usual. The ache between your legs began to disappear as you hiked one knee across his legs and had your head resting on his chest. 

He holds you close while his breathing steadies and your focus on his heartbeat. 

“How was this one?” 

Your fingertips trace his pectorals while his arms squeeze your body in his grasp. 

He hesitates before starting. 

“You know how I’ve met versions of myself before?” You nod, planting your hand on his chest before lifting your head slightly to look up in his direction. 

“This guy was my twin.” Peter’s voice croaks hardly above a whisper. You only move to readjust yourself with your chin above your hands on his chest, laying down on your stomach to focus on whatever he’s about to say. 

“Twin,” You repeat.  

“Babe, it was like looking into a mirror,” He adds. There’s no punchline but his lips tug up at what he just said before chuckling humorlessly. 

“But we’re so different. He said that he feels stuck, that he’s not pulling his punches anymore. So I was trying to cheer him up, but he’s in a tough spot right now.” Peter shakes his head as he recalls it, and you furrow your eyebrows listening to him. 

“You look hung up about it,” You observe, concerned for Peter’s internal monologue. You know how he gets when he overthinks, and you know if he thinks he can help it, he’d be able to help everyone or fix everything. 

“What if I can help him?” He admits, confirming your suspicions. You shake your head, before lifting yourself from his body, taking a loose sheet to cover your chest as you move up to face him. 

“Maybe he doesn’t need your help?” You try to reason with him, not wanting to put himself at multiverse risk unless he absolutely needs to. It’s clearly important to him in more ways than you can ever understand because of how supposedly identical they were. You took Peter’s word for it but still, part of you couldn’t buy that this was his destiny to go help fix whatever part of his life that he’s in. 

“You don’t know that,” Peter sighs, frustrated as he’s still wracking his head around the last encounter. 

You can only imagine what they talked about. 

“You don’t either,” You point out. Peter’s big brown eyes meet yours. Gentle, still tired from the mission but also from the welcome back sex, pleading you to indulge him into his matyrdom. 

Peter clicks his tongue, more at himself than at you and you raise your eyebrow.

“Right.” He clarifies that it’s his thoughts that he’s criticizing. 

The next 48 hours were calm but you could tell Peter was more distracted than usual, presumably about his other self. 

You were getting ready for bed, taking melatonin to knock out as soon as possible after the long day you had. You slipped in the covers beside him, listening to his drawn out monologue about how it’s what's best and he’ll feel guilty if he doesn’t do it. 

“But it’s not your responsibility,” You remind him in a sleepy voice as your eyelids get heavier. Peter scowls, your vision doesn’t catch it entirely but you know he doesn’t agree. 

“Who would I be if I didn’t do anything to help myself?” You rolled your eyes at his sentiment. 

“Pete, I know I’ll never understand but you have to move on, your life is here,” You readjust your head on the pillows as Peter turns over to fully get into bed. You’re suspicious of him as his suit is in direct eyesight of you both from the closet. 

Peter is staring up ahead, probably not registering your pleas that his own life and responsibilities on the earth he’s from should be more important, also the fact that he shouldn’t be messing with the fate of another version of himself just because he feels obligated to help. 

For a man who was so logical, his moral reasoning seemed to go out the window when you rationalized the importance of leaving other people’s decisions and lifepaths alone. 

So much so that by the next morning, there’s an empty space next to you and his suit is gone. You stare at the empty hanger and let out an exasperated sigh with the note that was taped on your bedside table in hand. 

“I’m sorry baby, I have to do this. 

Just give me a few days.

Love you the most -Peter.”

This wouldn’t be the first time he ghosted you with only a note to explain, but he was going to get an earful from you by the time he gets back. You don’t know how you let him get away with as much as he does but you suppose those are the things that come with marriage. Marriage to a superhero came with an entirely different set of terms and conditions though. 

-

It was day 5 of Peter’s moral-responsibility escapade and you were getting terrified. You felt bad for constantly asking Miles if he or anyone from the several other dimensions had heard of anything but he was kind enough to keep you updated with as much as he knew. 

Of course, that meant the answer was always: 

“No, sorry Mrs. Parker.” 

You would sigh and hang up the phone. 

It was exhausting, not having your husband around but also knowing he was quite literally not in your dimension. 

You tried to do anything to alleviate your stress and imagined him eventually texting you that he’s okay and swinging home as soon as possible, knowing that it would only make you scared to imagine the opposite. 

You were cleaning the kitchen, carefully taking off your wedding ring to put on the counter so it wouldn’t rip your gloves and silently hoped that whenever Peter came back, he would be safe and not trying to continue fixing other people’s lives.

That evening passes by painfully but while trying to block out the thoughts through a self care routine for the night, you realize that this isn’t the longest Peter had been gone. He should be fine and he’ll come back happier, regardless of the outcome knowing that at least he tried. He deserves to come back feeling proud for knowing that he did what he could rather than leaving it at that. However, he was definitely pushing it as it was already more than a few days. 

You slip into one of your t-shirts that are really one of Peter’s and a pair of sleeping shorts, turning off the lights in the house until you hear a loud noise, like a pan's clattering in the kitchen. You’re afraid as you can’t be completely sure that it’s Peter coming back and that you very well could be in danger without him. You call out for his name and get no response. 

Light on your feet, you tip-toe through the hall towards where the noise is coming from and see an illumination of the light on the floor, knowing that it is a portal. He’s been going in and out of them so long you recognized the patterns easily enough. You turn on the light in the kitchen and see his figure in his tattered suit, ripped revealing his bruised and bloody skin underneath. 

You see that one of his gloves is hanging on by the seams, a wedding band tearing the fabric from underneath, blood decorating the silver. 

Rasping out his name, your hands reaching for his hand with the ring. His fingers immediately intertwine with yours, almost trembling and feeling desperate. 

His voice is low and guttural when he says your name, taking off his mask to reveal his face. You feel relief wash over you knowing that your baby is home again and hug him like you have so many times before. You hear him choking back a sob while his much taller frame is swallowing yours and cooed for him to relax, worried about what he saw in this dimension that’s warranting this reaction. 

“It’s okay baby, you’re back home now,” Is what you repeat, running your hand over his back, careful not to touch his wounds.

You lead him back into the bathroom, slowly stripping his suit off in silence knowing that he’ll speak when he wants to. He was acting a bit standoffish, staring at you and mute. You didn’t know what to say or the right questions to ask, so you ran the rag under the water and started gently cleaning the blood off of him. His suit was strewn across the floor, and boots were standing upright by the tub. You were thankful he had a few extras in the closet before having to sew anymore. 

Peter’s stare is empty, his brown eyes look black and he looks like he hadn't been sleeping since he left. You run your fingers across his cheeks softly as you always have but this time he flinches. You quickly remove your hands from his general bubble not wanting to alarm him as you’re still standing in between his legs as he’s seated on the edge of the bathtub. 

You know he regrets it when he grabs your hand to bring his cheek again, staring at you from below through his wet eyelashes. 

“‘M sorry bub,” He says it like he’s ashamed. You shake your head to reassure him, and can’t help but smile at the nickname. 

“You haven’t called me that in so long. Since we first started going out,” You remind him, smiling wider as you recall your earlier memories with him. A blush creeps up Peter’s cheek but he begins to smile back. He wraps his large arms around the small of your back to bring you closer, his face nuzzling on your tummy before his voice perks up. 

“Why did I ever stop?” 

You shrug, placing his chin in between your fingers so you can make eye contact with him. “We grew up.”

Peter nods, smiling tiredly, “Right.” 

He’s not acting much differently than he usually does when he first comes back, but he’s more injured than his past trips so you know that this time was different. 

“What happened with your twin?” You ask as you’re kneeled on the tiled floor before him. You’re cleaning up his scratches with alcohol and cotton balls, discarding the red and pink stained ones in the trash next to you. 

“Nothing,” He mumbles, wincing every time you run another cotton ball over a fresher gash. 

“Doesn’t look like nothing, Peter,” You scold him for not telling you everything. Your hands remain on the top of his thighs when you stand back up, your shorts riding right below your hips when Peter takes the pleasure of raising your t-shirt to kiss your body. 

You’re ticklish at the sudden affection, squirming underneath his sudden display of strength, lips and rough, calloused hands trailing all around your stomach until he stops. You catch your breath from the involuntary giggling he caused when he’s staring at your hips.

“Nine hundred and ninety-nine,” He comments, raising his eyebrow when you realize what he’s referring to. You snort at his confusion and the way he said it.

“You’re such a nerd, you know it’s nine-nine-nine.” You roll your eyes at his sudden awareness of your numerology tattoo. He scoffs with a smile, sighing at the sight of you. There’s a quiet pause and the silence lingering in the air. 

“Do you remember the day we got it?” 

Peter nods, but not without a favor. “Tell me, I’m already forgetting about it.” His grin widens. 

You shake your head flashing a toothy smile at him. He returns one back. “It was only a few years ago. Did you hit your head on a portal the way back?” You try to joke at his lack of memory today. 

He laughs along as you sit down on one of his thighs knowing he’d easily support your weight. You wrap your hands around his neck and stare longingly at him before recalling the memory. His stare is not as cold and distant as it was earlier, so you feel better around him again. 

“I just like listening to you talk, of course I remember.” He explains. 

You nod, failing to hide how good that made you feel. He readjusts his leg to hold you closer while your hands find their way in his hair again. 

“The night we met, I just kept seeing 9’s all day. It was 9 on the dot when I walked into the place we were at 9th avenue, it was September, the temperature was like 90 degrees. It was too much of a coincidence.” You can tell you’re rambling so you look back up from the spot you were staring at to see if Peter was still listening. 

Of course he was. He nods for you to continue. 

“And when I told you this a few years later, I felt like I was meant to meet you because it was the start of a new beginning. 999 is the angel number for it,” He furrows his eyebrows and you shake your head again. 

“Then you laughed at me because you’re such a geek and went on a tangent about probability,” You pause as Peter throws his head to the side, a small laugh escaping his throat from fake offense.

You also giggle but force yourself to continue, “But then you agreed, because of how important I became to you. I think we were on a date when I got a receipt telling you this and we were the 999th table served at that diner and then I said that this is our number, and you said we should get it tattooed.” 

He hangs onto every word as you recount the memory, he cuts you off with the ending of the story. “So we did it that day.” 

You nod, feeling a bit of relief. 

Your head is laying on his shoulder when he finishes the story, thinking about how many times you’ve rehearsed this explanation of how you had a matching tattoo with your boyfriend before you guys became engaged. 

“You tell it the best,” Peter interrupts your thoughts. 

You nuzzle your head in his chest and he takes the opportunity to scoop your body up in his arms by wrapping his other arm underneath your leg to take you to your shared bedroom. You squeal in surprise begging him not to move so suddenly or else he’ll get blood on the sheets but he ignores your requests and eventually you do too. 

When you’re making out with him, your back is pressed up against the bed feeling suffocated by the intensity and desperation of his kisses. You feel his erection through his boxers pressing up against your heat, just as frenzied for his touch as he is for yours. You moan in his mouth, eventually biting his lip when he tries to pull away to undress you as fast as he can. You’re only clad in your underwear by the time he’s pulling down his boxers but notice a difference.

Unsure if you’re seeing things you run your fingers over his skin on the right of his prominent v-lines and notice there’s not any remnants of swollen skin from your matching 999 tattoo with him. 

“Peter?” Your voice is small, still laced with lust, unsure if you were overreacting or not. 

Peter throws his boxers to the side, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand due to his swift strength while he uses his middle finger to play with your clit through your underwear. 

“Fuck, I missed this,” He pauses, staring at your heat before meeting your eyes again. “I missed you so much.” 

Your eyes narrow in confusion but it’s hard for you to focus on what he’s saying, not fully understanding but also trapped underneath his touch. 

“You’re scaring me,” You whimper and it only translates as a moan, breathy as his fingers move faster with your wetness collecting onto them as he pushes your panties to the side. “I’m right here Peter, I’ve always been right here.” You remind him, thinking that he’s alluding to the past few days. In his defense, they did feel like forever. 

Your arms struggle underneath his but you move involuntarily, feeling your cunt clench around nothing already. You moan his name on repeat, your breasts jiggling as your chest heaves up and down from his attention. 

“I had you before,” He slips one finger in. 

“And then I lost you,” Another finger enters.

Peter begins thrusting skillfully before you can think better of it. “I’m not risking that again.”

Your eyes widen at what he just said and the intensity at which his fingers are curling inside you. 

You think about the lack of tattoo, the subtle difference in mannerisms since he came back and the fact that Peter had just left in search of an identical version of himself. 

Feeling yourself become dizzy, the tightness in your stomach from the fact that you were about to cum mixed in with the fear and realization of the situation at hand. “Where’s Peter?” You choke out when he slows down, edging your high. 

He looks up at you, leaning down on your frame to kiss your cheek. You shudder, lip quivering from the onset of tears about to spill out. 

“I’m right here bub,” He whispers. Peter picks up the pace of his fingering and your legs close around his hand, not wanting him to go any further. He uses the hand that had been keeping your hands together to open your legs again to continue and you cum around him, sobbing silently at the nickname.

Your tears start to run on your face, salt streaking your skin. Your breath is uneven from the sobs and cumming simultaneously. 

“Where’s my Peter?” You place emphasis on the my even though your voice feels like chalk in your throat. You use your hands to support yourself sitting up, trying to keep your legs together when he removed his fingers from your cunt. He shakes his head at the attempt to close access off from him and pushes you back down on the bed, gently as you both know trying to defend yourself would be futile. 

You lay down in defeat, watching in shame how he wraps his legs around your waist while his hands are holding your arms above your head once again. 

“You know that deep down, I’m him.” Peter's eyes are blown out with lust, his cock standing tall against his lower abdomen. Your eyes trail past this and to the absence of the tattoo and feel the fear making your body frozen again. 

You close your eyes and shake your head as he leans down towards your face, trying your best to squirm underneath his body. 

“I’ll do anything you want, just don’t do this,” You sob weakly, your chest feels as though it’s going to cave in. “You’re not him but you don’t have to do this, please,” You cry a bit louder, but not enough for anyone to hear you. You quickly realize that it wouldn’t do any good for people to see someone who has the same exact identity as your husband hurting you, if you wanted any chance of seeing your Peter again. 

He slightly readjusts his hips above you and you think he’ll let you go, listening to your pleas but he just hikes up your legs in order to line up to your heat. You hear him chuckling slowly while your legs are instinctively wrapped around his legs, still shaking from how he made you come. 

“All I want is you.”

Your heart picks up its pace as you feel his head right underneath your clit and in between your lips, slowly entering you, feeling that space between your legs be fulfilled. Your guilt eats you up knowing that you were enjoying this, and he knew you were enjoying this, but him not being your actual husband. 

“Get off of me,” Is what you say but your hips say otherwise. Your moans get ragged as he continues to slowly thrust, allowing you to get used to his size before he picks up the pace. Your body moves back and forth as he does, fucking him back as you maneuever yourself up and down on his length. 

He removes his hands from holding you down, mainly to see what you do and you only wrap your chest in embarrassment, biting your lip as he stares down at you. 

“You can’t resist me baby,” He acknowledges, you sniffle. His hips thrust into you again, rocking down into you and you clench around him, causing you both to whine in pleasure. He hiked up your leg higher, flatter against your body as he grabbed the underneath of your thigh to go deeper. 

Your empty sobs fill the room as the bed under you creaks, he growls in response. “It’s all the same, in every universe you’re mine.” 

You shake your head at that, a thread of “No’s” filling your head but you can’t bring yourself to say it aloud. His cock thrusting in and out of you, his hand gripping you like you’re the only thing he can touch is clouding your mind. His toned body is slamming against your hips and you reach out to hold onto him as he gets rougher, wanting him to anchor you for the inevitable climax. 

“I love you just as much as him,” He continues, relishing in your high pitched mewls that he took as praise. He groans lower when you make eye contact with him as your hands grip onto his bicep. 

“Maybe even more.”

You shake your head, eyebrows pinching up and lips in a pout as you can feel the sobs coming back when you think about your Peter. You have no idea where he is right now. How you’ll explain yourself when he comes back.

If he comes back. 

You shake your head even faster and finally verbalize the “No’s” you’ve been wanting to say but couldn’t bring yourself to. 

Your legs become sore at the position he kept them in and presses his chest up against yours. He whispers in your ear, “The fact that I even did this for you says a lot.”

Your head is spinning. 

“I need you, more than you’ll ever know.” He grunts, his final thrusts feel like he’s about to split you open, he knows this by the way your eyes pinch together in pain and slows down for you, trying to ease the friction by using his thumb to play with your clit during. 

You separate your lips in relief and he uses the opportunity to gently kiss you. 

He’s not your husband, he’s not your Peter Parker. But you can’t even bring yourself to identify him as an evil version of your lover. Especially not when he kisses you like this. 

A version of him that refuses to make the right decisions, prioritizes the wrong things and goes out of his way to get what he wants is still him. Every part of you wants to scream that this is wrong, telling him that there’s another way and that you have to find a way to fix this, but you can’t think straight when he’s all there is in front of you. 

Kissing back, you’re desperate to feel him, any version of Peter, on your lips and you squirm underneath when his fingers rub faster on your clit. 

Your cunt tightening around his cock when you feel the tension snap in your stomach. Peter’s hips stutter at the feeling, cumming immediately inside of you and separating himself from you. He allows your legs  to relax, laying you back down fully when he removes himself from you. 

His fingers trace your tattoo, leaning down to kiss it before trailing down to your swollen, puffy cunt. 

“I’ll get a 999 tattoo too,” He says nine-nine-nine this time, smirking when you meet his eyes. 

“It’ll be a new beginning for both of us.”

It’s the last thing he says before going back in to eat you out, petrifying you to an unfamiliar degree.

[garfldcline]

ANDREW GARFIELD??&?$%#!@

[kelieah]

four eyes (peter parker x reader)

summary: peter starts wearing his glasses again and you reassure him that he still looks amazing

word count: 0.9k

warnings: this is a repost! (with a shit ton of editing) but this fic will officially be considered a blurb and no longer a drabble. fluff, language, suggestive content

author's note: am i falling for andrew peter all over again? yes, yes i am. also see what i did there w the summary? amazing? eh? eh? lol ok so moving on

peter parker masterlist

You begin to hear your dorm room door unlocking and jump at the slam from it swinging wide open. You let out a sigh of relief and relax at the sight of your boyfriend, who you now can see is very upset. "Peter? What's wrong?" you stand up from your desk.

Before you could take another step, he rushes towards you and basically tackles you onto your bed. You yelp at the sudden impact and try your best to keep the two of you standing, but fail as you both fall backward. "Worst day ever, baby," he groans and stuffs his face into your neck.

"Talk to me," you chuckle and squirm a bit beneath his heavy frame. He notices this and props himself up so that he's hovering above you, making sure you're comfortable. "But close the door please," you say while kissing the shell of his ear.

He huffs and sticks his arm out, webbing the door closed without having to look. You would say you're surprised that he's wearing his web-shooters but you're not. Knowing him and his itch to always suit up, he probably wears it twenty-four seven.

"Stupid, doctor," he groans and stuffs his face into your neck, letting out a string of incoherent complaints.

"Woah, what? I thought you loved Dr. Blanchett?" you reach up towards his hair and tangle your fingers through his messy, soft hair.

"I do, I do. It's just today I had my regular check-up and now I have to get fucking glasses again. It's giving me war flashbacks," he drags out his words and dramatically shudders. He props himself up higher and places his hands on both sides of your face to pout down at you.

You look up at him and giggle at his puppy dog expression, "That's why you're upset?"

"Uh, yeah? Remember Flash, babe? Four eyes this, four eyes that, all of high school and he never shut up about it. I'll never forget when he took my glasses during gym while I was running and then I ran into you because I couldn't see and then I literally crushed you and then you fucking broke your ankle!" he rambles all in one breath and exhales loudly at the end of his sentence.

"You done?" you smirk.

He rolls his eyes and stares at you with eyes full of frustration. "Yes."

"Oh, you poor thing," you coo and reach up to cup his chin. He blushes at your sudden change of demeanor but smiles when you lean up to peck his lips. "But, look at where that got us now," you hum.

"I know, I know. I'm forever grateful," he sighs and leans down to return your previous kiss. You gladly reciprocate and cherish the short peck. "But not for all the, you know."

"Yea, I know," you repeat his own words and sit up, pushing him aside for him to sit next to you.

"I really hate wearing glasses," he mutters while obliging to your actions. He adjusts to sit beside you and leans his head on your shoulder.

"Then wear contacts," you suggest as you intertwine your fingers with his. He squeezes your hand in his and caresses your skin, loving how it feels against his own rough palms.

"But I always forget to put them in so she told me to get glasses."

"Well, then..."

"I'm fucked."

"If it makes you feel any better... I find you very sexy with glasses," you turn your head and whisper into his ear.

"Oh, yeah?" he tilts his head and raises an eyebrow at you.

You glance back at him and almost shudder at his words. You nod slowly to emphasize your statement, "Seriously. It's super hot. Like you're some young professor that everyone has a crush on, hot. Especially when you wear those oversized sweaters, Pete. Oh, fuck," you moan obnoxiously to tease him and fall back onto your bed, draping a hand over your forehead for the dramatics.

"Stoooop," he laughs and puts his face into his hands to hide his incoming blush. "You're just kissing my ass, trying to make me feel better about wearing glasses," he grumbles and peaks at you through his fingers.

"Nope, I've always loved it when you wore glasses. With or without, you're gorgeous."

"Now my ego is growing," he breathes out and lies back down too, turning to face you.

You go silent for a moment and squint your eyes as if you're listening for something. You then nod to confirm. "I know, I can basically hear it."

"Shut up," he chuckles and shakes his head.

You gasp playfully and quickly avert your eyes over toward his lap, "Wait. That's not the only thing growing."

"Fuck off," he pushes you away jokingly and crosses his arms. You snicker and get up, beginning to walk back to your desk since he implied for you leave. "I didn't mean go away," he huffed and webbed you back to your bed. He spins you toward him and has you stand between his legs, his hands now resting on your hips.

"You're hot, got it?" you grin and look down at him.

His lips curl into a sly smile from the confidence behind your question. He nods and keeps his eyes on yours, "Got it."

"Good. Now, you have nothing to worry about, Professor Parker," you place your hands on his shoulders and give them a firm squeeze. "Hey... Professor?" you whisper.

He feels shivers run down his back from your alluring voice, "Yes?"

"Could you help me with my anatomy homework?" you ask with a hint of obliviousness and look down at him with a gaze he knows all too well about.

"Huh? I didn't know you take anatomy..." he mutters and furrows his eyebrows from being confused. You roll your eyes and give him a look. "Oh. Oh. Shit— Sorry— Fuck— Yes, of course, miss."

thanks for reading, let me know what you think!

tagging some mutuals! @celestialholland @parkerpeter24 @selfcarecap @devotion @darlingholland @asonofpeter @supremethunda @ptersmj @veryholland @bi-lmg07 @petershbw @peterbenjiparker @petersgroupie @ms-misery @vendettaparker @saturnpeter @spideyspeaches @watersofmars @stqrrysam @powerpuffluuvv @secretjeon @mischiefmanaged71 @justanotherdaydreamersoul

[meshlasolus]

Who Are You Really

Andrew Garfield!Peter Parker x Reader

A/n: There may or may not be spoilers in this, I haven't seen the movie yet... gonna write one or two more parts after this when I've seen it. I'm going tomorrow at 6pm so we'll see what goes down...

Warnings: ⚠️possible spoilers ahead read at your own risk⚠️, street assualt, attempted sexual assault.

You knew Peter Parker well. One of your class mates at Midtown, the boy you sat beside in English every day. You were just as surprised as anyone to find out he was Spider-Man. It was broadcasted everywhere in New York for everyone to see. It couldn't be mistaken as someone else. The footage was clear, and the evidence was there. Your classmate was Spider-Man.

You were supposed to have graduated a while ago, but when the blip happened, you disappeared with it, setting you back to a place where you had to redo your last year in highschool. Being a super senior was not fun, considering your friends who had survived were now five years older than you. Some out of college already and even on to their careers. It was crazy to think that so much could have happened during a time that was instantaneous to you.

No one looked at Peter the same after the day he was found out. He would walk down the hallways with his girlfriend and everyone would stare. You couldn't deny you felt bad for him. Everyone staring on as uf he had procured some sort of disastrous disease. He was a hero of this city, and shouldn't have been treated so wrongfully. One of the bullies in the school, Eugene Thompson was of course getting his kicks out of the humiliation of his classmate. He chuckled in the corner of the hall, waiting for Peter and MJ to walk by before he took an obnoxiously large step in front of them while nonchalantly walking to class. Peter dropped the papers he had under his arm, and they went all over the floor.

The others looked on this display of mishap with nothing but a second glance. They didn't dare get involved with the crime fighting Spider-Man.

You felt differently. You went over and helped him and MJ with the scattered papers and handed them over. He uttered a small thank you and a nod, and then they went on their way quietly. You thought it was awful, the whole thing. How anxious does Spider-Man have to be to get so caught off guard by a school bully. This must be taking a serious toll on him.

You didn't talk to Peter for a while, not even in the class you had together. You stayed just as quiet as everyone else, until one day.

Everyone seemingly didn't care anymore about the fact that Peter was Spider-Man. You'd even argue to the point where they forgot it entirely.

You spoke to him in your English class, simply discussing the week's assignment, and he seemed to forget himself even then. It was so strange, but you didn't question it.

Later that day news stories started coming up about strange portals opening around the city. They looked like they could be connected to the other super hero that lived uptown, Dr. Strange. Reports of strange persons turning up grabbed people's attention, and though worse things had happned in this world, you were willing to bet anything that this was really bad.

You had been living alone in your apartment ever since your mother passed away. She died during the blip from cancer, so you didn't even get to say goodbye. You'd been living pretty independently before that happened, but being by yourself in this time of craziness was not desired. You could hold your own if it came down to it, you'd just rather avoid having to inflict that upon yourself.

You wanted to see if you classmate knew anything about this mess, and having gone over to his apartment before to study, you knew where he lived. You weren't exactly friends, but if it came down to it, you knew could trust him. He was a super hero after all.

You went down the streets and tried to be discreet, knowing the part of town you were headed for wasn't necessarily kind and caring. You had your switch blade in your pocket at the ready just incase, but strayed from keeping it in your hand to avoid suspicion and extra unwanted attention.

Two guys had begun following you about a block ago, you could tell. You kept on, thinking if it was just a loose follow, you could reach your destination without any issues. The problems began when three other men decided to join their friends, making the group of five seem more intimidating.

You turned down an alley as a shortcut to the next street down, where the building you were looking for was located. Bad idea. There was a small gang of sidewalk smokers at the end to cut you off. You kept walking to test your luck, wanting to see if you were just being paranoid. You did let you hand lay closer to your pocket though.

"Ay mama, where you off to?" One of them poked at you, cutting you from the other side of the street. There were no passersby, you were on your own.

"To see Spider-Man," you taunted sarcastically, trying to push past the men while also making a slight to them.

"Oh spiderguy! He's a little punk, you know," you were pushed back to a corner, with few ways out. "You guys close or something?"

"Look, I just wanna go see my friend, can you let me pass?"

"Depends. Can you pay the toll?"

"What toll?"

The biggest man in the group stepped forward, blushing your hair strands away from your shoulder, letting his hands linger against you a little longer. Your hands were in your pocket, and you were about to stab someone, but held back, knowing the repercussions could be bad if you went against too many men without being able to handle them.

"Whatever you're willing to offer us, sweetheart."

That's it. Even just by pure unbridled rage, nothing could have stopped you from taking that knife and pressing it against the throat of the man closest to you.

"Everyone back up or he's dead," you threatened. You couldn't kill anyone, that you were sure of, but they were going to hurt you, so you could at least make them believe you could.

"That's so cute, look boys she's even got a little knife. Too bad she ain't know how to use it."

"Wanna bet?" You smirked, pressing it against the bulging veins of his neck. The red that rimmed the blade was enough to scare the man you held under it, but none of the others even flinched.

"She's all talk, grab her," one of them instructed, and two more reacted. They reached over and tried to take a shot, but you readjusted your hold on the guy in your hands, bringing an elbow around his neck so you could use the knife for better purposes.

One got sliced right through the arm, pulling back like a child who just touched a hot stove.

"Hands off, jackass," you tried ti slice through another, but now they were all on you. You were putting up one hell of a fight, you were cinfused why they still persisted.

You tried to break free, but it was more difficult now, and they wrestled the knife from your hands, leaving you pretty defenseless given your position. You struggled to get away, but then you saw a flash of red and blue swing into the picture.

"I'm not really great at talking to girls either guys, but 'hands off' seems like a pretty universal term."

Before your eyes, Spider-Man started to web up the deadbeats to the nearest wall, giving you an escape for a few seconds to put a few hits into the others. Spider-Man turned around, expecting to take down the rest, only to find them on the ground with their hands over their crotch. You lived taking cheap shots like that. Men had balls for a reason, that being so women could punish them whenever they misbehaved.

You quickly ran out of the alley afterwards, making it onto the street so that you could feek safer in the presence of the witnesses that drive by in cars every few seconds. Spider-Man followed after you, catching uo to your walking pace.

"You okay? You didn't take any bad hits did you?" He asked with a concerned tone. Funny, he didn't sound the same as in class. He looked taller, too. Glancing his way you saw a completely different costume than the one you were used to seeing on the news.

"No, I'm fine... I did actually wanna talk to you, though. I was on my over when those douchebags cornered me," you said, but the Spider-Man stopped in his tracks. You turned around and tilted your head.

"What do you- do I know you?" He asked. His voice definitely sounded different from in class a few days ago.

"You should. I'm your desk buddy in English," you furrowed your eyebrows, stepping back to be beside him again.

"I think you got the wrong guy," he chuckled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Parker everyone knows it's you, you don't have to play dumb anymore."

He froze immediately. How did you know? How did anyone know? What were you saying to him. You took a step closer and looked very closely. He definitely did not resemble the boy you knew, but then again, there was only one Spider-Man.

"Peter, you sound different, are you feeling okay?"

"How do you know my name?" He asked, afraid. This was not Peter Parker.

You reached a hand up and ripped the mask off, unprepared for the face that stared back at you. This was all too much to take in. Dark hair, yes. Brown eyes, yes. Peter Parker's brown eyes and dark hair? No.

"Who are you?"

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Anyways I'm so excited for nwh can y'all tell?