#peter drabble
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a little something based off this
had to make it fit techbro!peter tho đ€
tw: fwb est relationship, no protection
"Fucking-god damn," Peter's breathless moans were fanning over you collarbone. "Feels- damn it, baby, you feel so good." His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping them tilted with your legs firmly wrapped around his waist to keep him from going anywhere, not that he was planning on it.
Not when it had been over a month since he's seen you, closer to 6-weeks since he's been buried between your thighs in any shape or form. He'd been constantly travelling for work, and even though you didn't believe him at first, his stuttering hips and inability to even try to keep his noises down was proving that he was right - there was no way he slept with anyone else while he was gone.
Something about that realization had your walls clenching down, core bearing down in raw desire. Peter wanted you so badly he waited, your beloved fuck boy waited for you.
"Shit-fuck, baby you- god I can't-" pure, utter desperation was dripping off of him, getting lost in the blinding pleasure only you could provide. His rhtymic thrusts were quickly turning to disorganized rutting, small whimpers leaving him.
Suddenly, without much more warning, with Peter's entire body stilling after burying to the hilt, the unmistakable warmth was flooding you. Your nails slowly raking down his back, drawing the smallest noises from his lips in between his incoherent mutters as he continued rutting out his high.
Peppering an array of wet kisses along your jaw and muttering "I'm sorry" in between each one, his embarrassment was evident. He pulled back, eyes meeting yours briefly before looking down to where you two were still connected, "Got me feeling like a god damn virgin," he mutters out, chest heaving and flushed a dark pink as he tries to regain his composure.
Peter slowly pulled out, gaze staying stuck on his cock leaving your weeping core, the mix of your arousal and his release stiring something inside him. His mesmerized look on his face making you lean up to see where he was tranfixed just in time to watch his once softening cock stir back to life, head still breaching you, and the oozing creaminess of his high coating the both of you.
Abruptly, successfully knocking the wind out of you with a high-pitched moan, Peter was slamming back into you with his own whimper from the overstimulation. His arms fell to either side of your head, caging your gaze and keeping your eyes fixed on his. The long lashes, the slight stubble, the faint scars from hundreds of patrols, and his scent - cinnamon sticks and pure musk - encapsulating you in every way your friend shouldn't.
"'m no where near done with you, baby, got lost time to make up for, yeah?" His tone pussy drunk, but mixed with someone else you couldn't quite place.
#peter parker#peter parker smut#techbro!peter parker#techbro!peter parker smut#techbro!peter parker x reader#techbro!peter#techbro!peter smut#techbro!peter x reader#techbro!peter parker x bestfriend!reader#techbro!peter x bestfriend!reader#drabble#peter drabble#peter parker drabble
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â BETTER FIND A MOP, ITâS GETTINâ STICKY IN THIS BITCH â â peter parker.

MINORS DNI 18+ á¶» đ đ° .á NOTES: marvel rivals chad peter parker w yuri lowenthalâs legendary voice. a recipe for success. also this wouldn't be possible without this anon. WARNINGS: fem reader ă established relationship ă dirty talk ă explicit sexual content ă p in v ă finger sucking ă biting ă long cock peter agenda ă suit + mask sex but mask comes off halfway thru so you can see his pretty face <3
âYeah? Mmphâyou like thatâhmâbaby?â PETER PARKER speaks between his sheathes, evidently getting lost in the feeling of you wrapped around him. So much so that dirty talk for this silver tongue is interrupted by his own unfocus. It blurs in and out from the overload of sensation between his legs. You canât respond, brows furrowing as he wetly slithers in and out of you, the head of him brushing that spongy spot inside you every time he bottoms out.
You try your best, murmuring a weak yet eager, âMhm, mhm,â Nodding your head even while his fingers are hooked on your lower jaw over your chin.
âCouldnât wait, huh?â Peter asks rhetorically, a slight snicker sprinkled in as he watches you with as much awe as a mask can have. âWas like I was ambushed.â he muses, reminiscing over his entrance met with such welcoming open legs. His cock bucks in at the memory, and you cry out through your occupied mouth. The knuckles between your teeth get a squeeze, a nip, and he releases a burst of air. âTrying to bite me, honey?â The tone conveys a sense of disbelief but itâs pleasantly surprised, and his pace quickens. Choked moans shoot out of you as he fucks into you, his body weight pinning you down while your suspended legs bob from the movement. Your lips enclose apologetically over his gloved fingers, the wet felt fabric is foreign against your tongue when you circle around them. In a bout of curiosity, your tip traces the embossed texture of the web design around his knuckle, maintaining eye contact with his mask while you do it.
Your cheeks hollow out, sucking on his two fingers and he groans from low in his throat. Itâs the kind of purr that sends a shudder down your spine, eyes rolling back as he slots in your lulling body. The sheer length of him causes an ache inside your core that arches your back, clutching onto the sheets for purchase as you brace the sharp pain for the brain-melting feeling of pulling out only to fuck back in. His other hand comes to hook under the hem of his mask, peeling it off of him, and his brown hair explodes out in an endearing mess. You can finally see that crooked grin.
He pivots your head for you by your mouth, resting his wrist on the mattress to hover over you properly. Faithfully, you keep those fingers in, and he rewards you by shoving them in deeper, the tips of them making you lurch with a gag. Once again, he reacts audibly in euphoric relief like he was waiting for you to do that. âBaby.â he says in that voice, and itâs like a prize. You erupt in full-body tingles, curling your toes as he openly mouths at your neck. The pad of his tongue flattens against your pulse point, and ends it in a hard bite, scraping his teeth against your skin. You keen, that coil in your belly going taut.
Drool seeps out of the corner of your mouth while you desperately suck his spit-soaked glove, pitiful whimperings spilling out of you while he fucks you into the mattress.
#3k#indy: drabbles#ch: peter#peter parker drabble#peter parker smut#peter parker x reader#peter parker x fem reader#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#peter parker imagine#peter parker fanfiction#spiderman smut#spider-man smut#spider man smut#reader insert#marvel rivals#marvel rivals spider-man
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ââââàšà§ââââ
I love very casual dominance. Itâs always the smallest things, too. Itâs one thing to be intentionally dominate in bed, but when theyâre doing it out of pure instinct itâs almost sexier. They donât even realize how attractive it is. Like today, for whatever reason youâre nervous and itâs obvious if not by the way your leg is shaking under the coffee table. And as always, heâs found his spot besides you- maybe his hair is messy because itâs early and youâve slept in. He nurses a hot black coffee with one hand, and he may tell you twice to stop bouncing your leg but you wonât hear it a third time. He wonât even look away from whateverâs got his attention before you feel the pressure of his hand on your knee. Pressing down until your knee can no longer come back up, his grip almost bruising. But his thumb moves to rubs gentle circles on the area, a silent apology.
Other times, yeah, it does show up in bed. Like when heâs hitting that spot so good, too good, that you stop breathing for a few seconds. Heâs literally taken your breath away, folded you in half and heâs nasty with it. You donât even realize itâs happening but heâs so in tune with your body that he picks up on every little thing. He wonât stop his movements either, still feeding you deep strokes, hand behind your head to soften the blow of the headboard. And when he notices, heâll place his hand on your cheek so gently - a stark contrast to how heâs fucking you- and say, âBreathe, baby.â
ââââàšà§ââââ
#miya talks#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#peter parker x reader#gojo satoru#tasm!peter x reader#tasm peter parker#peter parker#tasm peter x reader#jjk x you#gojo x you#art x reader#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson smut#satoru gojo#gojo smut#gojo x y/n#Drabble#jjk x reader smut#tasm!peter#tasm smut#Peter Parker smut#tasm peter parker x reader#Peter Parker x reader smut#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#jason todd#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x reader smut
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Jason had always been too much.
Too loud, too fast, too stubborn. He could never just be in the way that people seemed to want him to. Even now, years after resurrection, after countless fights and the Leagueâs brutal remaking of his body, after the Pit had burned away all softness, he still caught himself moving like that scrawny, half-starved kid from Crime Alley â slipping between shadows, ducking his head to avoid attention, bracing for the next blow.
But he wasnât small anymore.
He could see it in the way people looked at him â sidelong glances, half-hidden wariness. He towered now, broad-shouldered and heavy with muscle. A wall of a man. Built like a weapon.
And sometimes he hated it.
There were nights when his body felt like a costume he couldn't take off â too large, too loud even in stillness. Heâd lie awake with his hand curled against his ribs, willing his heart to slow, not even sure why he felt so wrong in his own skin.
But not with you.
You didnât flinch when he brushed past you in tight hallways. You didnât shrink from his size, or his moods, or his silences. You had a way of just⊠existing beside him, calm and steady, like the eye of a hurricane.
It was late when it happened. A long patrol, a bruised shoulder, dirt still under his fingernails. He didnât say much when he walked in, just stripped off the Red Hood armor piece by piece, until he was bare and quiet and aching.
You were already in bed, curled in loose sheets, and when he sank into the mattress beside you, something in him gave out. All that strength, all that careful control â gone in an instant. He reached for you instinctively, spooning behind you like muscle memory, tucking his face against your neck.
But then you turned in his arms.
âNo,â you whispered gently, not unkind. Your hands were warm against his chest, guiding him, shifting him â and before he could ask what you were doing, he was the one being cradled.
You pulled him in, let him rest his head on your chest, your arm curling over his wide back like you could hold all of him â and the strangest thing was, you did.
No one had ever held him like that.
Not Bruce. Not Alfred. Not anyone.
He wasnât a weapon here. Not a soldier, not a ghost, not a lost Robin who had clawed his way back from death. He was just Jason. He was your Jason.
You carded your fingers through his hair, slow and unhurried, and asked softly, âWanna take a bath with me in the morning?â
He nodded against your collarbone, eyes closed. His breath evened out.
It was the best night of sleep heâd had in months.
He didnât say it out loud â not yet â but he was possessive. Fiercely, utterly yours. But not in the way people might assume.
He didnât need to own you.
He needed to belong to you.
Every night he came home and saw the light still on, your smile still waiting, he felt the weight in his chest ease just a little more. He could live with the monster in his mirror, the blood on his gloves, the ache in his bones â if it meant this. If it meant you.
He didnât care if he was your first. Didnât care about perfect love stories.
He just wanted to be your last.
And if youâd let him, heâd be yours forever.
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Jason Todd had always been built like a tankâbroad shoulders, strong arms, a body shaped by years of fighting Gothamâs worst. But now, standing in front of the mirror, all he could see was how different he looked. The muscle was still there, buried under a softer layer that hadn't been there before. His shirts stretched a little tighter around his stomach, his jawline wasnât as sharp, andâGodâhe could feel it every time he moved.
He let out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face. He'd known this was coming. Hanging up the helmet, giving up the fightâit meant letting go of the relentless training too. The bruises had faded, the broken ribs had healed, but his body had started changing in ways he wasn't prepared for.
The worst part was the guilt. Not just for what he used to do, but for caring so much about this now. He'd survived death. He'd clawed his way out of the grave, fought through pain most people couldn't imagineâand yet, a little weight was what was getting under his skin?
"Stupid," he muttered, gripping the sink.
The door creaked open behind him, and he barely caught your reflection in the mirror before you stepped into the room.
"Jay?" Your voice was soft, careful. "You've been in here for a while."
He exhaled through his nose, not turning around. "Yeah. Just thinking."
You leaned against the door frame, watching him. "What about?"
Jason hesitated. He didn't want to say it. It felt shallow. Weak. But you knew him too well, and he knew you weren't going to let it go.
"... I look different," he finally admitted. "And I don't know how..."
You stepped closer, your hands finding his waist from behind, fingers pressing into the soft fabric of his shirt. "Of course you do," you said simply. "Youâve spent years treating your body like a weapon. And now you donât have to anymore."
He swallowed, his shoulders dropping just slightly. "Yeah, butâI donât know, I used to be..." He gestured vaguely toward the mirror, frustrated.
"You used to be overworked, underfed, and running on fumes," you countered. "Jason, you didnât just survive Gothamâyou survived yourself."
He went quiet at that.
Your arms wrapped around his middle, and you rested your head against his back. "You're still you. And you're still hot, if you need to hear it."
A short, breathy chuckle escaped him despite himself. "That right?"
You squeezed him tighter. "Mm-hmm. And Iâll say it as many times as I need to."
Jason sighed, a small, tired smile creeping onto his face. He reached down, covering your hands with his. He didnât know if heâd ever fully shake the feeling, the nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him he wasnât what he used to be. But you were here. You werenât letting him disappear into his own head.
#đ drabbles#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jaosn todd#jason todd x you#jason peter todd#dcu
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Please oh please may I request tasm!peter using his super strength to impress r? I donât know if youâve seen the TikToks from Romeo and Juliet but he is dangling and does a pull up to kiss her and like that vibe of just being a bit of a show off to fluster her
You may! Thank you <3
tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ⥠876 words
âI read something today,â you say, steam trailing behind you as you carry your microwave dinner into the bedroom.Â
âYeah?â Peter doesnât pause in pulling on his suit. He nearly falls over when his leg gets stuck in the spandex. Youâd think after so much practice, heâd be better at it. âThatâs great, baby. Big step for you.âÂ
âShut up.â You consider chucking a tamale at him, but no, not worth it. âI read a statistic about crime in New York.âÂ
Now you have Peterâs interest. He cocks his head, the suit hanging from his waist. Not getting distracted by his naked torso never becomes less of a trial for you.Â
âSomething you think I should know?âÂ
âMhm. Did you know most crime here happens between noon and seven pm?âÂ
âOh.â He rolls his eyes, putting his arms in their sleeves. âI know where this is going.âÂ
âIt just seems,â you say thoughtfully, âlike maybe you could stay here with me tonight. Since, you know, most of the crime is already over.âÂ
âI have class until six-thirty, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?âÂ
âStay home.â You take a bite of your tamale, but itâs hotter than you expected. You chew with unladylike open-mouthed bites, trying to breathe out the steam. âObviously.âÂ
Peter grins at your misfortune. You glare, and he makes a face so dopily in love you almost canât stand it.Â
âI have to go,â he says. âWhatever the statistics say, there are still crimes happening, and if Iâve got their schedule figured out those guys will be coming back to try and rob the gyro place again.âÂ
You swallow your food, frowning. âDamianâs place?âÂ
âYeah.âÂ
âOh, fuck those guys. Go get âem.âÂ
âI knew youâd get it.â Peter pulls on his mask, backing up towards the window. Itâs been opened so frequently it doesnât even squeak. You shiver at the cold wind it lets in. âBack later.âÂ
âBe safe,â you say automatically, pulling out your laptop and tapping random keys until it turns on. âDonât go after guys with guns.âÂ
âI wonât.âÂ
You think Peterâs lying, but itâs the sort of white lie youâre okay with being told. You try not to think too hard when he goes out on his patrols; the worry would drive you insane if you did. You can never really fall asleep until you feel that wind come in through the window again, though, his body slipping into bed beside yours.Â
Youâre just navigating to YouTube when thereâs a schwick, and your laptop shuts. You stare at the splatter of webbing on the back side of your screen in silent indignance for a moment before tracing it back to the source.Â
âPeter.â Your boyfriend is dangling from the window of your eight-floor apartment by his fingertips. By only one set of fingertips. You know all about his abilities, and still the sight makes your heart shoot up into your throat. âWhat are you doing?âÂ
âArenât we forgetting something?âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
He attaches his webbing to the windowsill, using that hand to pull off his mask. âUh, a goodbye kiss?âÂ
You roll your eyes, but itâs hard not to look smitten when the thing your boyfriend is sternest about is romance. You get up and follow the line of his web to the window.Â
âYouâre going to clean this stuff off my laptop when you get back,â you say, tone softening with fondness as he looks up at you.Â
âItâll dissolve,â he replies. âCâmere.âÂ
You bend, and Peter meets you halfway, muscled arms shifting underneath the tight material of his suit as he pulls himself upward. His lips are warm. The ends of his hair shift in the wind, tickling your forehead. You have to stop yourself from leaning all the way out the window to follow him when he pulls away.Â
âMm.â He licks his lips. âSave me some of those tamales, please.âÂ
âDo not tell me that I taste like bean and masa,â you plead.Â
Peter grins. âNo, Iâm just teasing. You taste like you. Which is to sayâŠâ He pulls upward again, finding you just where he left you. â...very good.âÂ
Your lips curve against his, staying even after the kiss. âFlirt.âÂ
âMaybe.â He lets himself drop down below you, knuckles to his chin. Itâs odd seeing him like this, so at ease with the city whizzing about nearly a hundred feet below him.Â
You bite your lip, and his eyes drop to the motion.Â
âOkay,â he says. âOne more.âÂ
You grin. âNow youâre just showing off.âÂ
Peter makes a noncommittal humming sound, but you know heâs well aware of the impressive flex of his biceps and forearms as he lifts himself upward for one last kiss. You make it a good one, soft and lingering.Â
âIs it working?âÂ
âMaybe,â you repeat his answer to your flirting accusation. But when you look at him again, your voice drops into a more genuine register. âHey. Be safe tonight, seriously.â Â
Peterâs eyes go soft. âI will. Iâll see you later, pretty girl.â He winks before pulling the mask on. âKeep the bed warm for me.âÂ
âIf youâre not back by midnight, Iâm putting an ice cube on your pillow.âÂ
His laughter echoes in the room after heâs gone.Â
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hello! I hope youâre doing good! I would like to request a fic with tasm!peter parker or james potter if you prefer, but something where theyâre making out and the reader ends up breaking his glasses? If that makes senseđ«Ł
hi, my darling, iâm am doing very well! thank you for requesting, that makes complete sense! Iâm totally watching tasm again after writing this <3
cw: fem!reader, making out, slightly suggestive (but not really), aunt may walking in, established relationship, fluff, 1.2k
<3
Peterâs mouth is on your neck while the bridge of his glasses rubs against the skin just an inch higher than his mouth. His hands stay firmly planted on your hips as you sit in his lap on his swivel chair. Your textbook and computer lay abandoned next to his on his desk in front of you.
âPeter, I have to study,â you mumble, but the sigh that escapes your lips makes your excuse less believable, âWe have to study.â you add, trying you best to get yourself and peter back on track for a big exam tomorrow. Crazy for Peter or not, this test is important and you need to get a little studying in, but you canât get Peter to keep his hands off you.
âNo, we donât.â Peter replies quickly, before biting your neck, causing you to let out squeak.
âPeter,â you practically whine, and the chuckle that falls from Peterâs mouth vibrates onto your neck, causing you to squirm in his lap. When Peter lifts his head from your neck, youâre pouting. Lips jutted out and eyebrows pinched together with pleading eyes. Oh, Peter could die right here with you in his arms. He pulls you closer, biceps and hands pressed into your sides and forearms into your stomach.
âYouâre going to be fine,â Peter offers gently, pressing a much softer kiss to your cheek, allowing you to release the tension from your face, âYouâve studied plenty already.â
âButââ
âNo, buts,â Peter shuts you down, gently rubbing your sides in an attempt to silence your worries. He wants to kiss you so bad, but he would never do it without your permission. And if you want to study, heâll let you, but he doesnât think you really do, âKiss me?â
Peter hears you release a long, dramatic, sigh before shifting yourself in his lap so that youâre straddling him, his hands now stabilizing you by your waist. For a moment your face is expressionless and Peter canât read you. He worries that youâre unhappy with him but when he sees a giddy smile creep onto your face, he instantly reciprocates and his worries melt away.
You lock your hands around Peterâs neck before leaning in to kiss him. At first, you kiss him softly, tenderly just because you love him. But when you lightly tug on Peterâs hair at the nape of his neck, he takes it as a sign to tug on your hips, pulling you flush against his chest and deepen the kiss. But when the bridge of you nose knocks into Peterâs glasses, you groan in momentary pain, causing his eyes to widen, hand reaching up to gently hold your cheek, the action asking if youâre okay. When you nod your head and meet his gaze, you notice his concern before itâs quickly replaced with frustration. Peter quickly tears his glasses on his face and tosses them towards his bed without sparing a glance in that direction. But when a soft crack echos from across the room, you snap your gaze towards the glasses that now lay broken at the bridge on the floor.
âPeter!â You gasp, shifting your gaze between him and the broken glasses, but no concern seems to be etched on his face.
âDonât worry, I can get new ones,â Peter assures you, kissing the corners of your lips while his nose delicately brushes the apples of your cheeks, âI just wanna kiss you.â Peter whispers and you feel a rush of warmth spread across your face at his tone.
âAunt May isnât going to be happy.â You state, nervously glancing towards the door that Peter probably forgot to lock again.
âShush, less talking, baby,â Oh god, you melt completely at the way his says baby and presses his finger to your mouth, before replacing it with his lips, âMore kissing.â He adds in between a few quick, hard, presses of his lips on yours.
âOh whatevâhmph!â
Peter kisses you long and hard, successfully getting you to stop talking. You feel hot all over when he kisses you again and again. And when you rank your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging on the ends, while simultaneously gently biting his bottom lip, Peter makes a sound between a gasp and a groan that makes you want to do it again just so you can hear the sound once more. Thereâs a kiss, another, and another, youâre so caught up in the feeling of his mouth against yours, carefully sliding your hands up and down his chest before lightly gripping a fist full of his shirt to keep him near you.
The way Peter touches you is like muscle memory, he knows how to make you gasp and what makes you shiver. When, his hands slip under the material of your shirt and caress your skin, your body reacts exactly how he knows it always does. Then, he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his waist, and with his lips still on yours, he gently lowers the both of you onto his bed. He seems so far away now and you canât handle it. Before he even has the chance to lower himself further down onto the bed, you grab his biceps, which are tensed from holding himself up, and tug him towards you. Peter practically falls and suddenly the weight of his whole body is on top of you, Peter worries for a moment, breaking the kiss, but you make a noise, reminiscent to a childish whine before grabbing his jaw with both of you hands and pulling him back. With his lips on yours, his tongue slides into your mouth while your thumbs trace the outline of his jaw and his hand slides behind you back and into your shirt.
âHey, do you two know whereâOh my goodness!â You and Peter are quickly pulled apart, turning your heads in the direction of Aunt Mayâs loud gasp. She stands just outside the bedroom with one hand still on the doorknob, her expression loudly displaying her shock. Peter stays on top of you for a split second, before Mayâs gaze shifts between his hand in your shirt and both of your disheveled appearances, âPeter Benjamin Parker!â
With that, Peter immediately jumps up from on top of you, quickly grabbing your hand to stand next to him. Both of your faces are flushed red from being caught, even if all you were doing was kissing. Aunt May stands by the door, both of her hands placed firmly on her hips, presumably awaiting a reasonable response while you and Peter glance at each other in search of something to say. When Peterâs gaze returns to his aunt, he finally opens his mouth to speak.
âAunt MayâWe were justââ Peter pauses as he stumbles over his words, feeling pathetic under the eyes of both you and his aunt.
âStudying.â You finish with a somewhat convincing smile and when Aunt May turns to you, her gaze softens, but when she notices the broken glasses laying forgotten on the floor behind you, her questioning expression returns.
âAnd what happened to your glasses?â Aunt May asks, a triumphant smile crossing her face as she knows sheâs caught the two of you red-handed in your obvious lie, âWere you studying when that happened?â
You and Peter hesitate, he sends you a nervous smile and the both of you bite your tongues, not trusting yourselves to speak. After a moment, the two of you nod, heads hanging low.
âMhm, right,â May hums before sending Peter a look that says, âweâll talk later.â Then, she takes a few steps into the room, causing you and Peterâs eyes to widen, but May only steps around you to pick up the broken glasses before walking back towards the door, âWell, dinner is almost ready, you two better behave.â
âOkay, yeah, thank you, May.â Peter says, and you can tell heâs beyond flustered by the situation as he runs a hand through his hair, then brushes a finger along his bottom lip, âWeâll be down soon.â
May nods before sending the both of you one final look, this one a little more playful than the rest. She exits the bedroom and closes the door behind her, leaving you and Peter alone once again.
The both of you share a glance before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Peter falls back onto the bed, tugging you down with his so that youâre laying on his chest.
âI told you sheâd be mad.â You tease, running your hand up his chest, eventually reaching the back of his neck, while leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw.
âIt was so worth it.â Peter smirks before flipping you over and kissing your face
<3
masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist
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Ëâïž Ì !!#tasm! peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter fluff#tasm!peter x you#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter x y/n#tasm!peter fanfiction#tasm!peter smut#tasm!peter angst#tasm! peter parker smut#peter parker fluff#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#peter parker fic#peter parker drabble#the amazing spider man#andrew garfield
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absolutely obsessed with healer!reader rn because while healing is seen as something so pure and beautifulâyouâre such a dick. more akin to an exhausted office worker on a 9 to 5 (though you schedule is much worse, and twice as grueling), and running off of three cups of expensive coffee and grumbling your answer.
girl boss in high heels?? no. sleep deprived asshole in combat boots that will kick someoneâs teeth in, heal them, then do it again.
and some freak on your team that gushes over you and secretly crushes some villain that tried to kill you while youâre not looking, and tells you to ignore the blood on their suit before going back to harassing you. you hate his guts meanwhile he has to hide in the bathroom and jerk off to try and get some energy out of his system to try and behave himself around you.
iâm on my monthly no one say anything to me rn.
#Ê â heartz : blurb#Ê â heartz : drabble#mark grayson x reader#mark grayson#invincible x reader#invincible#peter parker x reader#peter parker#marvel#not a hero but..#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson#jason todd x reader#jason todd
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I am such a slut for Danny having supernatural strength and being able to kill someone with a single slap because heâs used to fighting ghosts who are built Sturdy (and literally canât die, that is very helpful in a sparing partner) so he has to learn such meticulous control when he moves to Gotham where he starts regularly getting into scuffles with humans who think heâs an easy target (he looks like he has the sturdiness of a wet newspaper) and the whole time heâs more stressed about not drawing the Bats attention by being too good or accidentally killing someone so he has to walk that fine line of acting like a scrawny loser and dipping out at his first chance without being clocked as a meta.
Danny, laying on the ground and getting kicked repeatedly by a thug: *tries to angle himself so the guy can kick out a knot in his back*
Danny: *deadpan* oh, ow, stop that hurts, oof
Robin, watching from the rooftop and recognizing the dramatics from the Supers: father there is a meta
Batman, also watching and having flashbacks to Clarkâs earlier days: *so so tired and already mentally getting the adoption paperwork ready*
#danny đ€ peter parker đ€ the supers#having such carefully maintained control at all times#sure danny is used to doing mundane things with his powers now but fights⊠his years of Ghost Brawls are really biting him in the ass here#the others learned how to fight (mostly) humans first and foremost so itâs now more natural for them to manage their power levels#danny is so worried about accidentally killing someone after every brawl with a ghost because the power level difference is so insane#he has to relearn how much force is acceptable after each all-out fight with a ghost#dpxdc#dpxdc drabble#dpxdc prompt#my writing#my prompts
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one thing about remus is he will sleep. room kinda warm? sleeping. watching a movie? sleeping. sitting with sirius? sleeping.
#marauders era#moony#padfoot#remus lupin#the marauders#wolfstar#james potter x reader#james x reader#james potter drabble#sirius x reader#james potter imagine#james potter smut#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin smut#sirius black imagine#james & peter & remus & sirius#sirius black x reader#sirius black smut#dead gay wizards#the marauders era#marauders fandom#marauders
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Fluffy newlywedd Peter (Tom or andrew) x reader đ„ș
The warm, twinkling string lights provided enough light to illuminate the dance floor, the surroundings tables finally empty and the sound of the music echoing off the walls. The last bit of excitement could be heard distantly as the last few guests made their way to their cars.
Your first dance song played again, much lower and soft, as you and Peter shared one more dance together. Your arms around his neck, his around your waist, essentially just hugging tightly as you swayed to the music.
"Mrs. Parker," her whispered, lips practically on your neck with how close he needed wanted to be to you.
"Mr. Parker," you hummed back softly, giggling immediately after the formality left your lips.
This was a long time coming, decades of being friends, years of dating, and what felt like an eternity of engagement and wedding planning. It truly could have been any better though, beyond thrilled with how every little detail and quirk of the night had went.
"Can't believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you," he whispered, almost to himself more than you, "Childhood dream come true."
You couldn't help but feel your body warm at his words, "Peter, you had me before we were even married."
"I know," he pressed a kiss to the skin of your neck before moving so he could look you in the eye, "But now, no one can deny it, and you never have to doubt if I'm yours or not."
You smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his lips, "Peter, my sweet, we have always been each others."
#peter drabble#peter parker drabble#peter parker#peter fluff#peter parker fluff#marvel fluff#marvel#ask#jaz answers
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CURIOSITY GLASSES KILLED PETER.â â â ă
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€ P. PARKER

SUMMARY à§à peter always leaves his glasses lying around, and today, curiosity gets the best of you. slipping them on seems harmlessâuntil he walks in, stops dead in his tracks, and suddenly, you're the cutest distraction heâs ever seen
WARNINGS àČ. fluff overload, peter being utterly whipped, excessive compliments, and one (1) very flustered boyfriend. proceed with caution A/N àČ. first peter fic omg?? was kinda gonna make a longer fic on the more angsty side but then i was like nah thatâs too much effort so drabble it is. and honestly i love it so much ughhh enjoy!! âčđč also pls tell me it it's terrible
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€â â â â ᥣđ© words.á 403
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The apartment is quiet, save for the hum of the city outside and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Peter had left a little while ago, probably off to grab coffee or run an errand, leaving you curled up on his couch with one of his old textbooks in your lap.
Your gaze drifts toward the small table beside his desk, where his glasses sit, slightly askew, as if he had taken them off in a hurry. A small smile tugs at your lips. Youâve seen him push them up the bridge of his nose a thousand times, seen the way he squints when he forgets them, how they somehow make him look both like the smartest and the cutest person in the room.
Curiosity wins. You reach over and pick them up, slipping them onto your face.
Everything isâŠa little off. The lenses make the room blur at the edges, and you blink rapidly, adjusting. A quiet giggle escapes you. âWow, how does he even see in these?â you murmur, tilting your head at your reflection in the window.
The door creaks open.
âBabe, Iââ Peter stops mid-sentence.
You turn toward him, wide-eyed, and his breath catches in his throat.
He blinks once. Twice. His mouth opens, then closes again as if heâs buffering.
âPete?â you say, confused by his sudden speechlessness.
âOh my God,â he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his already-messy hair. âWhyâwhy do you look so cute right now? What is happening?â
You snort. âWhat?â
âNo, seriously.â He steps closer, eyes locked on you like youâre a puzzle heâs desperate to solve. âThatâs illegal. You canât justâjust put on my glasses and look like that.â
You grin, tilting your head. âLike what?â
âLike the most adorable human to ever exist?â He groans dramatically, dropping onto the couch beside you and burying his face in your shoulder. âThis isnât fair. I wasnât prepared for this.â
You laugh, tugging the glasses off. âSo what youâre saying is I should wear them all the time?â
Peter lifts his head, eyes soft but full of mischief. âBabe, if you do that, Iâm never gonna be able to focus on anything else ever again.â
You smirk, slipping them back on. âGuess youâll just have to suffer, Parker.â
And judging by the way he grins before pulling you into a kiss, youâre pretty sure he doesnât mind one bit.
©iamgonnagetyoubackౚৠplease refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work
#â
Ëââ§ àšà§ â§âË â
ivy writes àŒ.°#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#spiderman#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x female reader#tasm!peter x reader#peter parker fluff#peter parker drabble#peter parker blurb#tasm!peter parker#tasm peter parker#tasm spiderman#tasm!peter x you#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!peter fluff#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker imagine#tasm!peter parker fluff#tasm!peter parker fanfiction#tasm!spiderman#peter x reader
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â DO YOU REMEMBER HOW IT FELT WHEN I TOUCHED YOU? â â peter parker.

MINORS DNI 18+ á¶» đ đ° .á NOTES: nsfw link inspo. WARNINGS: fem reader | established relationship | oral (f receiving) | vaginal fingering | explicit sexual content.
PETER PARKER messes up a lot. He knows he does. He knows youâre constantly about to sit him down for a serious talk regarding your relationship with him. Maybe heâs not spending enough time with you, or when he does spend time with you heâs suspiciously absent-minded, or maybe heâs not dividing any of his priorities evenlyâbut he knows youâre sick of it. You try to be strong, he can see it in your eyes, but the sag in your shoulders and the sigh in your voice tells him everything else. However, even if he screws up constantly, he knows thereâs one thing he can get right.
âOh, Peter!â you gasp, fingers tangling in his hair in a way that sends shivers down his spine. His tongue swipes back and forth against your clit, the first stimulation the neglected thing has had in so long. Itâs extra sensitive tonight, and he almost canât believe his stroke of good luckâalmost. Itâs not like heâd blame you for saying no to this, letting him get you on your back and kneel at the foot of the bed to stick his head between your legs. From the sound of your feather-light voice, he can tell you need this. It takes up some brain space to scold himself for not doing this to you sooner. âPete- Pete, keep goingâplease.â you plea, writhing languidly in the mess of sheets. He clears his cloudy mind.
âRight, sorry.â he speaks against you, and his soft slippery lips caress your excited bud in a way that has you arching your back. Hot breath fans you as he flattens his tongue, licking up a long stripe and leaving a wet trail in its wake. You cry out sharply when the tip of it flicks up your little clit, making it ache in asking for more. Obediently, he reintroduces his fingers to the mix, leaning to the side as he wetly makes out with your bud, and the rough pads of his two digits draw up your slit. It feels raw from sensitivity, and yet your hips chase more stimulation, mewling for a deeper penetration than what the length of his tongue can provide. He doesnât speak again, he lets his actions do the talking, gaze flickering up at you in the low light every so often to gauge your reactions. Youâve since thrown up your arms, keeping them out of his way, laying your hands next to your head. The lighting compliments your every curve and dip, nipples perked up and pebbled, your lips molded into whatever shape they need to take to keep those pretty sounds spilling out of you.
You look like an angel. How do you even put up with him? he asks himself. Maybe whatever heâs doing now has something to do with it, you seem to like it. âPeterâŠâ you sigh, and once he knows youâre loose enough, he pushes his two fingers in a knuckle without any friction.
âBaby, youâre so wet.â he tells you proudly, planting a sweet kiss onto your clit to which you loudly moan in reply. He keeps pushing, another knuckle, one more, two fingers seated inside you and youâre bucking your hips trying to get them in even deeper. Your legs suspended in air begin to tremble as he pulls out and goes in again, this time adding a curl at the end of his descent so his fingertips stroke at that spongy spot inside you. Incoherent babblings mixed with the sound of his name pour out of you, followed closely by the sodden symphony of your pussy getting finger-fucked. Gradually, he speeds up his pace, sucking on your clit as pistons his arm in very particular way, ensuring he hits that spot inside you every time.
A curious arm of his curls around one of your thighs, his free hand laying over your chest to cup your tit, pinching your nip between his thumb and index experimentally. You grow more pitchy, trying to move your body with his stimulations, unable to keep still. Heâs not going to keep you waiting any longer than you already have, heâs fucking the cum out of you now. He adds another finger, this time he feels the stretch but you clearly donât care about the stingâin fact you welcome it. Youâre loud, howling throughout the room unapologetically while he screws your pretty pussy into raw and puffy oblivion. His tongue rolls around your clit, three fingers drilling your g-spot, that coil in your tummy impossibly taut. Donât need to tell him youâre close, heâs able to tell just from your body movements getting more and more erratic. Your hole pulses around him, and the coil snaps. Spurting out creamy white to spatter the bed and his hand. It oozes as he slows down. You gasp, convulsing, and very gently he places another kiss on your raw clit, exiting his fingers from your constricted hole with caution. âYou did so good, baby, you want another one?â
#1k#indy: drabbles#ch: peter#peter parker drabble#peter parker smut#peter parker x reader#peter parker x fem!reader#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#peter parker imagine#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfiction#spider-man smut#spider man smut#spiderman smut#reader insert
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you find him in your apartment. again. window cracked. boots still on. jacket slung over the back of your chair like it belongs there.
heâs sitting on your couch like he owns it, flipping through a half-read paperback he definitely didnât bring. probably something you left lying around â some crime thriller heâs already tearing apart in his head.
âmake yourself at home,â you say, dropping your keys.
he doesnât look up. âalready did. your lockâs still crap, by the way.â
âyou say that every time you break in.â
âbecause itâs still true.â he finally glances at you, eyes tired but sharp. âwhat if i was someone else?â
âthen youâd be bleeding on the floor right now.â
his mouth twitches. âcute.â
you toe off your shoes, drop your bag, move toward the kitchen. âwhat do you want, jason?â
âwow. straight to the point. no hi jay, how was patrol? want something to drink? here, take my couch and trample my boundaries some more?â
âyou donât drink anything that isnât ninety percent caffeine or eighty proof.â
âtrue,â he says, stretching his legs out. âstill rude.â
you eye him from the kitchen. his holsters are off, but the rest of the suitâs still there â the compression shirt, scuffed boots, scraped knuckles. heâs vibrating under the surface like he hasnât slept in two days and isnât planning to.
âyou get hit again?â you ask, softer.
he lifts one shoulder in a shrug. ânothing important.â
âso yes.â
âdo you want a play-by-play? i can act it out, real dramatic. throw myself against a wall. bleed on your furniture.â
âyou already bled on my rug last month.â
âand it really tied the room together.â
you exhale through your nose. grab a glass of water, bring it over. he takes it without comment, drinks half in one go.
âwhy are you here, jason?â
this time, he doesnât have a joke ready. his fingers tap the side of the glass, jaw tight.
âquiet,â he mutters. âitâs quiet here.â
you sit beside him. not close. not far.
âyou ever gonna just ask to stay?â you ask.
âdonât need to.â he leans his head back, eyes closed now. âyou always let me.â
âthatâs not the same thing.â
âyeah,â he says, voice rough. âi know.â
the silence stretches. his foot nudges yours, casual, like he didnât mean to. like he did.
âyou gonna yell at me if i fall asleep here?â
âdepends.â
âon what?â
âif you do that thing where you mutter weird half-words and twitch like youâre being electrocuted.â
he opens one eye. âthatâs called trauma. look it up.â
âever heard of therapy?â
âyeah. didnât vibe with being psychoanalyzed by someone whoâs never been shot in the face. weird, right?â
you huff a laugh. he shifts a little closer, not quite touching.
âyou still smell like gunpowder,â you say.
âbetter than blood.â
âbarely.â
he doesnât look at you right away. just stares ahead like heâs watching something you canât see. then, like it costs him, he says,
âcouldnât sleep.â
thatâs all he gives you. not can I crash here? not I donât want to be alone. just that.
but with jason, thatâs enough.
you donât ask. you just nod toward the blanket on the armrest.
âyou want that, or are you gonna steal mine like last time?â
âwasnât stealing. it was strategic heat distribution.â
âyouâre unbelievable.â
âyou say that a lot,â he murmurs, already leaning back into the cushions.
and still â he doesnât leave.
not for hours.
#jason todd thoughts#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#dove & her immense love for jason peter todd#drabble#jason todd#j. todd#dc#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fic#jason todd fluff#red hood#red hood fluff#red hood x reader#jason todd imagines#red hood x you#dc red hood#j.todd x reader#tooth rotting fluff#fluffy fic#fluff#jason peter todd#redhood#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#x reader#reader insert#jason todd imagine
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*̩̩̄Íă-Your Tears Kill Me-ËËâ
Jason has seen you cry before.
A misty-eyed sniffle when you watched a sad movie. A few stray tears when you laughed too hard. That one time you got frustrated over something stupid and wiped your eyes before you even realized you were crying.
But this? This is different.
Youâre sobbing.
Not quiet, not composed. Itâs ugly, gut-wrenching, heartbreakingâthe kind of crying that makes your whole body tremble, the kind that says this isnât about one bad day, or even one bad week.
This is everything crashing down at once.
And Jason doesnât know what to do.
He just stands there, stiff as a board, watching as you clutch your arms around yourself, shoulders shaking, breath hitching violently between sobs. Youâre trying to talkâhe can tellâbut all that comes out are broken, gasping hiccups.
His heart clenches, because fuck, did heâ?
"Hey, heyâ" He steps forward, hands hovering awkwardly. "What happened? Did Iâ? Shit, did I say something?"
You shake your head wildly, but it does nothing to stop the tears.
Jason curses under his breath. "Then what? Talk to me, sweetheart."
But you canât. Not yet. Youâre still unraveling, like a dam finally bursting after holding back years of pressure. And Jasonâwhoâs so good at fixing things with his hands, with his weapons, with sharp words and sharp instinctsâdoesnât know how to fix this.
So he does the only thing he can.
He pulls you in.
You collapse against him like you were waiting for it, hands fisting into his shirt, your weight pressing into him like youâre afraid heïżœïżœll let go. He wonât. He wonât.
"Shh," he murmurs, running a hand over your back, his touch uncertain but there. "I got you. Youâre okay."
You shake your head again against his chest, a choked noise escaping your throat. "Iâm not."
Jasonâs breath stutters.
Because he knows what itâs like to believe thatâto feel like no matter how many times someone tells you youâre okay, you never are. And knowing youâsomeone who always smiles, always finds the light in things, always keeps goingâare feeling that way?
It guts him.
"Fuck," he breathes, tightening his arms around you. "Iâ" He swallows hard. "I donât know what to say, babe. I donât know how to make this better. But Iâm here. Okay? Iâm right here."
You just sob.
And Jason? Jason just holds you through it. Through the shaking, through the gasping, through the way your fingers clutch at him like heâs the only thing keeping you upright.
He wishes he had the right words, wishes he could take whatever weight youâve been carrying and break it over his knee like he does to every bastard who deserves it. But he canât.
So he stays. He holds you, rocks you gently, presses kisses into your hair, murmurs reassurances even if heâs not sure they help.
And eventually, eventually, the sobs quiet. Your breathing evens out. Your grip on his shirt loosens, just a little.
Jason leans down, voice soft. "You back with me?"
You nod weakly.
"Yeah?"
A sniff. A small, fragile, "Yeah."
Jason lets out a breath he didnât know he was holding. "Good." He presses his lips against your forehead. "Now, you wanna tell me whatâs going on, or you wanna just sit here for a while?"
You donât answer right away. But you donât pull away, either.
And thatâs enough.
So Jason stays. He holds you tighter, presses another kiss into your hair, and lets you breathe.
Because if you ever start breaking again, heâll be right here to catch the pieces.
Every damn time.
#đ drabbles#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jaosn todd#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#jason peter todd
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MAAAAEEEEE I was wondering if I could request a Peter Parker fic where he just kind of adopts shy!reader without her consent like âyeah weâre friends now, we spend time together and also weâre probably gonna fall in love and date but why donât we just start with me walking you home from classâ or some such nonsense. Also wondering if you could keep his spidey-powers; I love that little mutant freak
I hate you for doing this to me
Ugh our mutant freak <3 Thanks for the request babe!
tasm!Peter Parker x shy!reader ⥠920 words
Youâre never alone on the way home from class anymore. Youâre not sure what changed at the start of the spring semester, if you just started putting out helpless-pedestrian energy or if it was something else, but soon after the start of classes your walks home from your night class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Friday began being accompanied by none other than Spider-Man. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, itâs Peter.Â
You and Peter have molecular biology together. On the first day of class, he rushed in just as your professor started lecturing. Every seat was full except the one next to you, and when you offered it to him silently with a nod of your head, Peter looked so relieved youâd think you handed him an A in the class. Heâs been glommed onto your ever since; some days he asks you to stop for coffee after class, some days he offers to study with you in the library, and he always walks you home. You donât know what you did to deserve the company, but you appreciate it.Â
âYou ever been there?â Peter asks, nodding to a stand advertising New York Cityâs Best Vegan Hot-Dogs.Â
âNo,â you say.
âWell, seems like weâve gotta try them at some point. I mean, theyâre the best in New York.âÂ
A smile tugs at your lips. Peterâs always doing that. Making plans, saying we. Itâs like the idea of you two hanging out beyond the end of your class is a foregone conclusion in his head. You havenât been able to figure out if thatâs just the way Peter talks or if he means it. You hope itâs the latter.Â
âYou think so?âÂ
âOh, yeah,â Peter says with affected certainty. âI mean, why would you doubt the sign? Everyone knows you have to get things like that certified.âÂ
You glance up at Peter, but one look into his smiling eyes is too much for you. You have to turn your face away. âIâm pretty sure there are three #1 Indian Restaurants in my neighborhood.âÂ
âOof. Must make for some brutal decisions when youâre craving Indian.âÂ
Two weeks ago, you offered to buy Spider-Man dinner for walking you home. It was stupidâhe canât eat through the mask, which he told you kindly and which you could have figured out if you thought about it for more than a second before opening your mouthâbut you were feeling guilty about stopping to pick up takeout and indebted for all the time he spends walking you home instead of preventing mob activity or whatever Spider-Man does. He professed, upon smelling your takeout, that Indian food is one of his favorites, too.Â
You havenât told Peter about your vigilante escort. Spider-Man never comes to you while Peterâs aroundâpresumably because you donât need his help if youâve already got a companionâand itâs the sort of ridiculous story you know will sound made up out loud. Why do you know that Spider-Man likes matar paneer? What makes you so special? Theyâre unanswerable questions, and youâd never be able to look at Peter again if he laughed at you.Â
âHey.â Peter bumps your hip with his. You go stiff at the contact. âYou okay?âÂ
âHm?â You look up, and heâs watching you with concern. âYeah, sorry.âÂ
âYou seem a little quiet,â he says. And when your face heats, âWell, quieter than usual.âÂ
âSorry,â you say again, embarrassed. âI think Iâm just tired.âÂ
âOh, yeah? Class was a long one, huh?âÂ
âYeah.âÂ
âThat makes sense.â Peter sounds disappointed. You blink at him in confusion, and he almost winces. âI donât supposeâŠI mean, if you just want to get home I get that, but I was wondering if you wanted to grab food? With me?âÂ
Your steps stutter. Itâs not that you and Peter have never hung out before. Or even that all the time youâve spent together centers wholly around classâthere have been coffees, chats in the hallway, walks in the park near your university buildingâbut itâs something about the way he asks, like itâs important this time, like it means something. You want for it to mean something.Â
âI could still grab food.â Youâre not quite looking at him, fiddling with the contents of your jacket pocket. Popping the lid to your chapstick on and off.Â
âYeah?â Peter asks hopefully.Â
âYeah.â
âAre you sure?âÂ
âMhm.âÂ
His voice softens, a smile in it. âCould you look at me, maybe?âÂ
You glance up, regretting it instantly as always. Peter is resplendent. Dimples framing his smile like parenthesis, hair mussed by the wind that beats at you while crossing every street, heâs the sort of handsome thatâs only just starting to figure out how handsome he is. You think you probably make it easier for him. To figure it out.Â
âDo you really want to,â he asks in a sincere tone, âor are you just appeasing me? If youâre tired I can take you straight to your place.âÂ
Your heart thudders. If you have to look at him for much longer you worry youâll melt into the cracks of the pavement. âI want to,â you say. âIâm sort of hungry, too.âÂ
âOkay, awesome.â He sounds happy again. You think if you were lucky, thatâd be the only thing you were put on Earth to do, make Peter happy. âMaybe we could try one of those Indian places near yours? See whoâs really number one.âÂ
âSure.â You smile up at him, brain buzzing when Peter beams back.Â
âSick! I could really go for some matar paneer.âÂ
#tasm peter parker#tasm spiderman#tasm!peter parker#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!spiderman#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker x shy!reader#tasm!peter parker x fem!reader#tasm!peter parker x y/n#tasm!peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker x self insert#tasm!peter parker fanfiction#tasm!peter parker fanfic#tasm!peter parker fic#tasm!peter parker fluff#tasm peter parker fluff#tasm!peter parker drabble#tasm!peter parker one shot#tasm!peter parker oneshot#tasm#tasmania#the amazing spiderman fandom#the amazing spiderman fanfiction#the amazing spiderman#tasm x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker imagine#tasm!peter parker scenario#tasm!peter parker blurb
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