#peter parker x you drabble

[snowluvvie]

Chocolate lava cake with Peter Parker!!!! Any letter (or all if ur feeling kind) I need this please please please thank you

You need to pick a letter next time but I love Peter so I picked three I wanted :)

₊˚⊹ ♡ . NSFW ALPHABET (D, S, Y) w/ PETER PARKER

₊˚⊹ ♡ . MDNI 18+. warnings — fem!reader, voyeurism, peter being a perv and a peeping tom, m. masturbation, overstimulation, crying, oral (m. and f. receiving), p in v

D is for DIRTY SECRET — pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of his

That little perv has swung by your window countless times, usually just under the guise of “checking in on you” or “making sure everything’s alright” because he is the neighborhood hero, of course—and you do live in the neighborhood, right? You were always going about your normal day-to-day when he saw you, brushing your teeth, typing on your laptop in the living room, rushing to put your shoes on because you were late to go somewhere. Those moments made him like you more and more, seeing you just be.

That is, until that one time he caught you changing. It seemed like he’d swung past the very moment your bra had fallen to the ground. He was a gentleman, averted his eyes and left… after a minute… or two. After you were fully dressed again. (Fine. Peter watched you change.) Poor guy (pervert) was rock hard the whole rest of his patrol, swinging around the city with a massive bulge in the front of his suit. Thank god he didn’t end up having to stop any crime—that would’ve been awkward (deserved.) The sight of your tits is the only thing that filled his head when he was strangling his own dick for the next… month? No, much longer. Until the next time he saw you like that.

S is for STAMINA — how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?

Super-stamina… self explanatory, no? (I’m gonna explain anyway.) Sometimes it seems like Peter can go forever, as long as you’ll let him—and sometimes he lasts too long, focuses too intensely how good you feel when he’s rutting into you, closes his eyes and just gets completely lost in it. He’ll go until you’re both dripping with sweat, the sheets soaked through, and you’re struggling to come down from your third orgasm, shaking and spasming and whining, but he just doesn’t let up. It takes you saying his name in a choked sob: “Peter,” for him to finally open his eyes and look down at you, all disheveled underneath him, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes—for him to come back to reality and with a long, breathy moan, he finally cums at the sight of you. And if we’re being honest, he would’ve gone longer if you hadn’t been desperately exhausted and fucked out.

Y is for YEARNING — how high is his sex drive?

Quite literally wants you—needs you—all the time, but he can be reserved about it, especially in the beginning.

When he swings by your place after a patrol late at night, desperately wanting to let off some steam, he doesn’t want to say anything about it. You’ll have a perfectly nice night until you notice the way Peter’s jaw has been set all funny while you’ve been walking around in your cute little PJs, nipples perked up from the cold air. He doesn’t wanna “ruin a wholesome night,” but you saw the look on his face at least twenty minutes ago, and have been pushing your chest out ever since then. When he finally admits he’s tense, and you suck him off to help him relax, he insists on returning the favor. He feels bad receiving without giving back—so every time you swallow his cum, you find yourself halfway off the edge of the bed with his head buried between your legs.

The longer you’re together, the more confident he feels just snatching you up so the two of you can run away, giggling and making out, to your bedroom or some other private corner of whatever you are, so he can release tension by bouncing you on his cock. He’s so strong, you don’t find yourself having to do any of the work when you don’t want to. Peter will fuck you senseless, and then kiss you long and sweet and tell you: “Thanks :)” with that grin and glint in his eye, like you did him a favor. All you can do is nod numbly in response, still dazed.

[sugugori]

────୨ৎ────

I love very casual dominance. It’s always the smallest things, too. It’s one thing to be intentionally dominate in bed, but when they’re doing it out of pure instinct it’s almost sexier. They don’t even realize how attractive it is. Like today, for whatever reason you’re nervous and it’s obvious if not by the way your leg is shaking under the coffee table. And as always, he’s found his spot besides you- maybe his hair is messy because it’s early and you’ve slept in. He nurses a hot black coffee with one hand, and he may tell you twice to stop bouncing your leg but you won’t hear it a third time. He won’t even look away from whatever’s got his attention before you feel the pressure of his hand on your knee. Pressing down until your knee can no longer bounce 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 he’s hitting that spot so good, too good, that you stop breathing for a few seconds. He’s literally taken your breath away, folded you in half and he’s nasty with it. You don’t even realize it’s happening but he’s so in tune with your body that he picks up on every little thing. He won’t stop his movements either, still feeding you deep strokes, hand behind your head to soften the blow of the headboard. And when he notices, he’ll place his hand on your cheek so gently - a stark contrast to how he’s fucking you- and say, “Breathe, baby.”

────୨ৎ────

[hanasnx]

“ BETTER FIND A MOP, IT’S GETTIN’ STICKY IN THIS BITCH ” — peter parker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: marvel rivals chad peter parker w yuri lowenthal’s legendary voice. a recipe for success. also this wouldn't be possible without this anon. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ dirty talk ノ explicit sexual content ノ p in v ノ finger sucking ノ biting ノ long cock peter agenda ノ suit + mask sex but mask comes off halfway thru so you can see his pretty face <3

“Yeah? Mmph—you like that—hm—baby?” 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 can’t 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, “Mhm, mhm,” Nodding your head even while his fingers are hooked on your lower jaw over your chin.

“Couldn’t wait, huh?” Peter asks rhetorically, a slight snicker sprinkled in as he watches you with as much awe as a mask can have. “Was like I was ambushed.” 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. “Trying to bite me, honey?” The tone conveys a sense of disbelief but it’s 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. It’s 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. “Baby.” he says in that voice, and it’s 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.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

CURIOSITY GLASSES KILLED PETER.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤ●ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ P. PARKER

SUMMARY ৎ୭ peter always leaves his glasses lying around, and today, curiosity gets the best of you. slipping them on seems harmless—until he walks in, stops dead in his tracks, and suddenly, you're the cutest distraction he’s ever seen

WARNINGS ಇ. fluff overload, peter being utterly whipped, excessive compliments, and one (1) very flustered boyfriend. proceed with caution A/N ಇ. first peter fic omg?? was kinda gonna make a longer fic on the more angsty side but then i was like nah that’s too much effort so drabble it is. and honestly i love it so much ughhh enjoy!! ‹𝟹 also pls tell me it it's terrible

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 403

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

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. You’ve 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 is…a little off. The lenses make the room blur at the edges, and you blink rapidly, adjusting. A quiet giggle escapes you. “Wow, how does he even see in these?” you murmur, tilting your head at your reflection in the window.

The door creaks open.

“Babe, I—” 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 he’s buffering.

“Pete?” you say, confused by his sudden speechlessness.

“Oh my God,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “Why—why do you look so cute right now? What is happening?”

You snort. “What?”

“No, seriously.” He steps closer, eyes locked on you like you’re a puzzle he’s desperate to solve. “That’s illegal. You can’t just—just put on my glasses and look like that.”

You grin, tilting your head. “Like what?”

“Like the most adorable human to ever exist?” He groans dramatically, dropping onto the couch beside you and burying his face in your shoulder. “This isn’t fair. I wasn’t prepared for this.”

You laugh, tugging the glasses off. “So what you’re saying is I should wear them all the time?”

Peter lifts his head, eyes soft but full of mischief. “Babe, if you do that, I’m never gonna be able to focus on anything else ever again.”

You smirk, slipping them back on. “Guess you’ll just have to suffer, Parker.”

And judging by the way he grins before pulling you into a kiss, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t mind one bit.

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[moonstruckme]

Please oh please may I request tasm!peter using his super strength to impress r? I don’t know if you’ve 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

“I read something today,” you say, steam trailing behind you as you carry your microwave dinner into the bedroom. 

“Yeah?” Peter doesn’t pause in pulling on his suit. He nearly falls over when his leg gets stuck in the spandex. You’d think after so much practice, he’d be better at it. “That’s great, baby. Big step for you.” 

“Shut up.” You consider chucking a tamale at him, but no, not worth it. “I read a statistic about crime in New York.” 

Now you have Peter’s 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. 

“Something you think I should know?” 

“Mhm. Did you know most crime here happens between noon and seven pm?” 

“Oh.” He rolls his eyes, putting his arms in their sleeves. “I know where this is going.” 

“It just seems,” you say thoughtfully, “like maybe you could stay here with me tonight. Since, you know, most of the crime is already over.” 

“I have class until six-thirty, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?” 

“Stay home.” You take a bite of your tamale, but it’s hotter than you expected. You chew with unladylike open-mouthed bites, trying to breathe out the steam. “Obviously.” 

Peter grins at your misfortune. You glare, and he makes a face so dopily in love you almost can’t stand it. 

“I have to go,” he says. “Whatever the statistics say, there are still crimes happening, and if I’ve got their schedule figured out those guys will be coming back to try and rob the gyro place again.” 

You swallow your food, frowning. “Damian’s place?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, fuck those guys. Go get ‘em.” 

“I knew you’d get it.” Peter pulls on his mask, backing up towards the window. It’s been opened so frequently it doesn’t even squeak. You shiver at the cold wind it lets in. “Back later.” 

“Be safe,” you say automatically, pulling out your laptop and tapping random keys until it turns on. “Don’t go after guys with guns.” 

“I won’t.” 

You think Peter’s lying, but it’s the sort of white lie you’re 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. 

You’re just navigating to YouTube when there’s 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. 

“Peter.” 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. “What are you doing?” 

“Aren’t we forgetting something?” 

“What?” 

He attaches his webbing to the windowsill, using that hand to pull off his mask. “Uh, a goodbye kiss?” 

You roll your eyes, but it’s 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. 

“You’re going to clean this stuff off my laptop when you get back,” you say, tone softening with fondness as he looks up at you. 

“It’ll dissolve,” he replies. “C’mere.” 

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. 

“Mm.” He licks his lips. “Save me some of those tamales, please.” 

“Do not tell me that I taste like bean and masa,” you plead. 

Peter grins. “No, I’m just teasing. You taste like you. Which is to say…” He pulls upward again, finding you just where he left you. “...very good.” 

Your lips curve against his, staying even after the kiss. “Flirt.” 

“Maybe.” He lets himself drop down below you, knuckles to his chin. It’s odd seeing him like this, so at ease with the city whizzing about nearly a hundred feet below him. 

You bite your lip, and his eyes drop to the motion. 

“Okay,” he says. “One more.” 

You grin. “Now you’re just showing off.” 

Peter makes a noncommittal humming sound, but you know he’s 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. 

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe,” you repeat his answer to your flirting accusation. But when you look at him again, your voice drops into a more genuine register. “Hey. Be safe tonight, seriously.”  

Peter’s eyes go soft. “I will. I’ll see you later, pretty girl.” He winks before pulling the mask on. “Keep the bed warm for me.” 

“If you’re not back by midnight, I’m putting an ice cube on your pillow.” 

His laughter echoes in the room after he’s gone. 

[alwaysmoncheri]

hello! I hope you’re doing good! I would like to request a fic with tasm!peter parker or james potter if you prefer, but something where they’re making out and the reader ends up breaking his glasses? If that makes sense🫣

hi, my darling, i’m am doing very well! thank you for requesting, that makes complete sense! I’m 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

Peter’s 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.

“Peter, I have to study,” you mumble, but the sigh that escapes your lips makes your excuse less believable, “We have to study.” 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 can’t get Peter to keep his hands off you.

“No, we don’t.” Peter replies quickly, before biting your neck, causing you to let out squeak.

“Peter,” you practically whine, and the chuckle that falls from Peter’s mouth vibrates onto your neck, causing you to squirm in his lap. When Peter lifts his head from your neck, you’re 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.

“You’re going to be fine,” Peter offers gently, pressing a much softer kiss to your cheek, allowing you to release the tension from your face, “You’ve studied plenty already.”

“But–”

“No, buts,” 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, he’ll let you, but he doesn’t think you really do, “Kiss me?”

Peter hears you release a long, dramatic, sigh before shifting yourself in his lap so that you’re straddling him, his hands now stabilizing you by your waist. For a moment your face is expressionless and Peter can’t read you. He worries that you’re 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 Peter’s 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 Peter’s 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 Peter’s glasses, you groan in momentary pain, causing his eyes to widen, hand reaching up to gently hold your cheek, the action asking if you’re okay. When you nod your head and meet his gaze, you notice his concern before it’s 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.

“Peter!” You gasp, shifting your gaze between him and the broken glasses, but no concern seems to be etched on his face.

“Don’t worry, I can get new ones,” Peter assures you, kissing the corners of your lips while his nose delicately brushes the apples of your cheeks, “I just wanna kiss you.” Peter whispers and you feel a rush of warmth spread across your face at his tone.

“Aunt May isn’t going to be happy.” You state, nervously glancing towards the door that Peter probably forgot to lock again.

“Shush, less talking, baby,” Oh god, you melt completely at the way his says baby and presses his finger to your mouth, before replacing it with his lips, “More kissing.” He adds in between a few quick, hard, presses of his lips on yours.

“Oh whatev—hmph!”

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. There’s a kiss, another, and another, you’re 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 can’t 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.

“Hey, do you two know where—Oh my goodness!” You and Peter are quickly pulled apart, turning your heads in the direction of Aunt May’s 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 May’s gaze shifts between his hand in your shirt and both of your disheveled appearances, “Peter Benjamin Parker!”

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 Peter’s gaze returns to his aunt, he finally opens his mouth to speak.

“Aunt May—We were just—” Peter pauses as he stumbles over his words, feeling pathetic under the eyes of both you and his aunt.

“Studying.” 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.

“And what happened to your glasses?” Aunt May asks, a triumphant smile crossing her face as she knows she’s caught the two of you red-handed in your obvious lie, “Were you studying when that happened?”

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.

“Mhm, right,” May hums before sending Peter a look that says, ‘we’ll talk later.’ Then, she takes a few steps into the room, causing you and Peter’s eyes to widen, but May only steps around you to pick up the broken glasses before walking back towards the door, “Well, dinner is almost ready, you two better behave.”

“Okay, yeah, thank you, May.” Peter says, and you can tell he’s beyond flustered by the situation as he runs a hand through his hair, then brushes a finger along his bottom lip, “We’ll be down soon.”

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 you’re laying on his chest.

“I told you she’d be mad.” You tease, running your hand up his chest, eventually reaching the back of his neck, while leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“It was so worth it.” Peter smirks before flipping you over and kissing your face

<3

masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @googie-jeon, @Kevia1000, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @averyhotchner, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[uhhhj13iguess]

happy birthday, peter

peter parker x childhood best friend!reader drabble

peter never made a big deal out of his birthday, but you always did.

wc: ~300

peter parker was never one to make a big fuss about his birthday. he didn’t mention it, he didn’t make any plans, and every year he was grateful for the dinner and cake you and may had made for him. he never made a big deal out of it.

but you always did.

peter’s birthday was one day you could fawn over him without giving yourself away. best friends go all out for each others birthday, no one would bat an eye.

so you let go of your inhibitions each year and let your heart go wild, always striving to outdo yourself. you picked him fresh flowers at the break of dawn from your neighborhood to greet him with as you walked to school together. you’d pay for his coffee and insist he grab a pastry as well, because nothing seemed out of the blue on his birthday.

you’d spend the whole week prior crafting him an elaborate, multi-page birthday card, a zine to commemorate another year around the sun. you took pride in seeing each years pinned above peter’s desk.

and peter didn’t care much to make a big deal out of his birthday. but he was really glad that you did.

every year, he got to spend the entire day with you, love-bombed and the center of your attention for a solid 24 hours. it was all peter wanted for his birthday. you were all he wanted.

every year when blowing out his candles on the homemade cake you and may had made for him, he only had one wish: to kiss you.

and every year, he got in his own head and psyched himself out. but this year was different.

this was his twenty first birthday, and with the addition of a little liquid courage, he was determined to make his birthday wish come true.

masterlist!

[alexispunkkk]

stress remedy

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

- pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

- summary: after some stressful times with school, peter surprises his pretty girlfriend with some flowers

- warnings: basically nothing, just pure fluffy! some kissing + mentions of stress

- word count: 1.7k

- author’s note: hiii! my first tumblr fanfic ever. requests are open, i’ll be doing mostly peter parker and andrew garfield.

—————————————୨ৎ

Your boyfriend has a busy life, and you truly have no clue how he even manages. Balancing you, schoolwork, his internship at Oscorp, and being a fucking superhero?

Obviously, that’s far too much for many people. But Peter Parker isn’t just anyone — he’s your sweet boy, the one that does it all. Even with all of his duties, the poor guy still is the most perfect boyfriend in the world.

Between the stress of school and work and whatnot, each day is beginning to feel longer and longer. Days were dragging on into colder winter nights, rather than the fun nights in the summer where you and Peter had as much time as you could ever possibly want.

You almost had no time. Coming home from school or work, you’d go right down for a nap, wake up for dinner and homework, then go straight to bed. The only thing keeping you awake for the few dull hours was your wonderful boyfriend.

Tonight was the same: half asleep in bed, your cat cuddled up to your side by force and threatening to escape the cuddles. A few sheets of homework on the desk, obviously undone, the TV on instead.

Peter knows you’ve been having a tough time at school, he’s the most adorably observant person you’ve ever met. And even with all of his own seemingly never-ending issues, he managed to put you above them all.

Your cat finally wriggled out of your arms and leaped out of the bed, scrambling under it at the sound of a knock on the window: Peter’s signature knock, to be exact. Before you can react, the tiny double-tap knock is accompanied by a gorgeous — maybe just slightly crumpled — bouquet of flowers.

They’re strung up by an all too familiar web, dangling down off of the upstairs neighbors’ Juliet balcony.

You felt like such a princess whenever Peter gave you such a dramatic arrival, dangling flowers and snacks or swinging in to surprise you. Only to be more princess-like, you scampered over in your dainty pajama set to the window, opening it and resting your arms delicately on the chilled windowsill.

Your chin soon joined, settling down on top of your forearms adorably, the stupidest grin plastering across your face when Peter finally swings down and takes the flowers off the web.

“Hi, spidey.” You giggled and stood up, opening it further to pull him inside with no effort to be careful.

“Hi, sweet girl.” He beamed back and stumbled into the bedroom with a chuckle, that all too familiar boyish grin crossing his own pretty face.

In seconds, the two of you became a tangled mess of limbs. The flowers were quickly discarded onto the desk, a quick web shooting from his wrist to shut the window and stop the chilly breeze that was slowly infiltrating the room.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you right up into your favorite spot. Your body was suspended up into the air, rested so perfectly flush against his own.

With the quiet giggles and kisses exchanged, your sour and tired mood was forgotten faster than anything.

The familiar feeling of his cold hands traveling under your shirt and across your back was intoxicating as usual, making you want to melt right into him and stay there forever, to forget about all of your worries and just be with him.

Your mind was just Peter. Peter, Peter, Peter.

“Got you a gift. Thought you might need a little pick-me-up with that midterm you’ve got coming up.” He backed up to carefully set you on the edge of the soft bed. The feeling of your head tucked so deep into the crook of his neck and his scent going straight to your heart was quickly missed, but he’ll be back soon enough.

Peter grabbed the flowers off the desk and jumped right onto the bed, earning a playful giggle from you.

“Yeah? When’d you have time to pick those up?” You scramble the second he’s laid down, crawling up the bed to accompany him.

His hands glided up your waist like silk, squeezing your sides under the pretty little lace tank top you’d chosen for pajamas tonight. It was an instinctive behavior for Peter, and you were settled in his lap in no time. No matter how often he touched you like this, it’s always as equally electrifying.

“May or may not have stolen them on the way home from Oscorp tonight.”

Once you were cuddled up in his lap, his hands moved toward your head without thought to card through the locks of your hair, pulling you closer with a quiet, domestic hum.

His words earned a snort from you, exhaling heavily while you settled on top of his body, head instinctively finding its favorite spot in his neck.

“Wow, how special am I? My boyfriend steals me flowers.” You joke, pressing the softest kiss to that sweet spot behind his ear.

In return, his hands moved up your shirt, the tip of his thumbs just barely ghosting the bottom cup of your breasts.

“Shut up, I just wanted an excuse to see you. You’ve been so holed up recently at home.”

Your eyes roll and your arms tighten around his neck, scoffing and feigning annoyance.

“I have not been holed up, thank you very much. Just … studying?” You laugh and shift in his lap, reaching across his now warm body to grab hold of said stolen flowers.

They were pretty, just maybe slightly crumpled up. But that’s the Peter Parker charm: everything had to be a bit messy when it was coming from him.

“Yeah, studying. How’s that going?” He snickers back, running one strong hand up through the top of your hair to expose your face that he was so enamored with.

The feeling of a gentle kiss to your forehead melted your heart like usual, making you both soften up and quit with the teasing.

“Not good,” you sighed, slumping back down and going all limp on top of him, your nose faintly brushing his jawline. “I haven’t done any of my homework. I’m so burnt out.”

Peter’s own face softened at that, looking down at you and brushing more of that hair out of your face to get a proper look. To his suspicion, your faint eyebags looked … well, a little less faint.

“You’ve gotta get some rest, then, baby.” He sighed and brushed his own nose into your hair, pulling your head under his chin to rest there while one hand stroked down the base of your neck.

You opened your mouth to protest, but you knew fighting over things like this with Peter never gave you a win. As much as you love him, he’s so damn insistent — he won’t let you do anything if it’s not all beneficial for your mental health or whatever he’s going on about.

“Fine. I’m not gonna fight you tonight.”

Your hands quickly work down his body, tugging at his belt in an attempt to get it off. He helps you work it off quickly, climbing out of bed for a moment to discard his jeans and coat to get comfier.

You only whined a little bit when he got up. To be fair, both of you were awfully clingy, not just you.

“Good, you’re not touching that laptop again. Not after that essay you spent all of our time on the other day.” Peter says, and the second the clothing hits the floor you pull him back down with a quiet giggle.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

He’s tugged nice and close quickly, so perfect against your body. The comfort of your bed has warmed his body up and he’s just in heaven with you wrapped up in his arms.

“No, don’t wanna go to bed.” Your face turns into a pout at his comment, stuffing right into his neck like always. “Let’s just talk. Get my mind off of school. Please?”

As convincing as you attempted to be, the yawn threatening to pull at your lips and the clingy nature you only fell into when you’re really tired gave you away.

“Baby, c’mon. Look at you. All pretty, but exhausted.” He cooed and chuckled, stroking the back of your hair to pull your head back under his chin the way he likes.

Quiet, protesting giggles escape your mouth, but when he keeps trying to pull you closer you’re on the verge of giving in.

At the sound of your constant stubborn whines at the simple thought of going to bed, Peter knows he’ll have to step it up.

“Come on. I’m not gonna be able to sleep myself if I know you’re stressed out. Let’s go to sleep, sweetheart.”

The gentle tone of his voice and slight puppy eyes urged you further and you truly can’t help it in that moment. A sigh escaped your mouth and you reluctantly moved closer, pulling the covers over the two of you.

“Fuck off. Fine.” You yawned once you finally allowed yourself to, letting your body go limp against him.

“There you go. Just close those pretty eyes, yeah? They look heavy.” He whispers, making sure the comforters are over you in every spot, not letting a sliver of skin exposed to the cold air when you could be snuggled with him.

Your protesting let up every time Peter whispered in your ear, the sweet words setting your mind right into a sleepy state. Little “love you’s” and “I’m right here’s” were so quick to ease your mind every time, even at your most stressed state.

“So easy to bribe.” He chuckles against your head once you’re asleep, pressing a last kiss to the top before shutting his own eyes. “G’night, baby. Love you. Always.”

[forever-ev]

Mom!reader being upset postpartum and starting to get her pink back

°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°

Peter sits in the rocking chair in Charlotte's nursery, swaying back and forth with your newborn daughter. You walk in and just stare at the sight of your beloved husband and daughter.

"I can't sleep." You say softly.

"Yeah? I'll go lay with you once I put her in her bassinet."

Peter gets up carefully and walks with you back to your bedroom. Charlotte is placed in her bassinet and you two lean against your headboard.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to change her myself." You whisper.

"Baby, you deserve to sleep. You pushed a whole ass human out of you only a few weeks ago. It's my job to take care of her too."

"Yeah, I just feel guilty. I feel like I could be doing more, and I know I've had my almost four trimesters of this, but I just feel gross and tired, and I should feel just love."

"I know you love her, sweetheart, and I'm so proud of you. You are her food source and previously the only thing sustaining her. It's okay for things not to be perfect."

"It's just hard for me to feel blissful when she spit up in my hair earlier and I'm exhausted and bleeding." You groan.

"You have a dinner plate sized wound in your uterus, baby, you're going to feel awful for a bit." He chuckles softly.

"Where'd you hear that?" Your brows furrow and you laugh in shock.

"The nurses when you had her. I was freaking out and they were trying to calm me down with weird facts." Peter laughs along with you.

"Oh, Pete...what did I do to deserve you?" You shake your head.

"Just being you. You deserve every part of this including the baby spitting up on you."

"Whatever." You snort. "Would it be bad if I showered and got dressed up just for fun? I know it's four in the morning but I feel so ugly and gross so maybe that'd help."

☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇

You walk into the living room to see Peter bouncing Charlotte gently while holding her against his chest. He gasps then holds her up closer to you.

"Awww, look at mommy, Charlie. Isn't she so pretty?" He coos.

You giggle and reach for your baby, "Hi, baby...oh, you stink. Does daddy need to change you?"

"Oh, I need to change her?" He laughs.

"Yeah, I thought it was your job too."

"Don't weaponize my own words." He groans but takes her anyway.

°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°

[tea-writes19]

besties | p.p.

pairing: peter parker x f!stark!reader

summary: your friendship with your dad’s intern turns into something more

warnings: friends to lovers, swearing, these bitches being oblivious, comedy, dad tony, mentions of past affairs, suggestive content, fluff galore, slow burn, underage drinking

a/n: i’m not usually a peter girlie as i love him and mj together but i wanted to write some fluff so here we are. also i’m laughing at petey’s intials. set post endgame but tony lives and steve doesn’t go back in time. nat’s still dead tho :(

liked by peterparker, nedleeds, tonystark, and others

yourusername: your fave upstate & queens duo

tagged: @/peterparker

view comments below

user1: MY FAVES

user2: imagine being friends w/ the y/n stark😩

user3: THIS

nedleeds: can’t believe y’all got food without me…

peterparker: sorry!

yourusername: no we’re not

peterparker: never getting in a car with you driving AGAIN

yourusername: IT WAS ONE CURB

user4: like father like daughter😭

user5: omg😂

tonystark: how many people from queens do you even know?

yourusername: that doesn’t matter

peterparker: they hate when we serve orphan & nepo baby

yourusername: 🗣️🗣️

user6: not the dead parents—

user7: i bet peter is the funniest person alive😭

user8: bro’s got trauma for days😭😭

pepperpotts: so this is why it took you two 6 hours to get the olive oil i asked for…

yourusername: should’ve sent happy🤷🏻‍♀️

jamesrhodes: you act like y/n doesn’t have tony’s horrible time management skills

pepperpotts: and peter?

jamesrhodes: spends too much time with tony and y/n

user9: god i want to live in nyc so bad

user10: pov: you saw y/n stark hit a curb today

liked by nedleeds, yourusername, mjjones, and others

peterparker: lab days🛠️🥽

tagged: @/tonystark

view comments below

yourusername: YOU GOT FIVE GUYS WITHOUT ME?!??

peterparker: BLAME YOUR DAD!! IT WAS HIS IDEA

tonystark: that was supposed to stay between us kid😑

user11: is that a new iron man model i see👀

peterparker: nope, just fixing rhodey’s suit :)

yourusername: surprised uncle rhodes is letting you touch that old thing

jamesrhodes: HEY! the war machine suit works fine just the way it is

yourusername: clearly not if it had to be fixed…

user11: oh god what have i started🫣

user12: five guys👨‍🍳🤌

user13: looks so fun!

nedleeds: man you HAVE got to convince mr. stark to let me come with someday

tonystark: not happening hacker

nedleeds: 😔

mjjones: THIS was more important than acdec?

peterparker: YOU DON’T JUST SAY NO TO TONY STARK MJ!!!!

yourusername: i do all the time🤨

user14: 😭😭

user15: love how peter is just friends with all the starks

user16: i’m pretty sure he’s tony’s personal intern

user17: ^^^

user18: oh my god i thought he was another bastard from tony’s playboy days😭

user19: lmao nooooo

user20: tbf i forget y/n isn’t pepper’s kid sometimes soooo….

liked by nedleeds, mjjones, peterparker, and others

yourusername: a happy meal is the only true serotonin one needs in life

tagged: @/peterparker @/nedleeds

view comments below

tonystark: what am i? chopped liver?

yourusername: yes

tonystark: ouch

user21: imagine calling tony stark chopped liver😭

nedleeds: i’m pretty sure we broke the airplane wheel

yourusername: shhhh…don’t let ronald hear you

peterparker: thanks for the nightmare fuel tn

yourusername: anytime🫡

user22: happy meals >>>

user23: mcds cokes >>>

yourusername: ronald mcdonald🥵

user24: one of these is not like the others…

user25: LMAO NOT RONALD MCDONALD😭😭

peterparker: i’m just glad we took the subway this time

yourusername: WOW

yourusername: AND TO THINK WE WERE BFFS

peterparker: I’M SORRY I DON’T WANT TO DIE YOUNG

tonystark: that is the most bullshit response i’ve ever heard from you

user26: this comment section is so unhinged😭😭

user27: lol what’d you expect??? it’s the starks

tonystark: morgan would like a happy meal

yourusername: we all know that’s just the excuse for you to get one too but that’s ok

liked by tonystark, yourusername, steverogers, and others

pepperpotts: cozy day with the family🤍

tagged: @/tonystark @/yourusername

view comments below

user28: you guys are so cute!

yourusername: i would like everyone to know that dad pushed me into the pond after that pic was taken

user29: omg noooo😭😭

peterparker: did you save your drink at least?

yourusername: obviously…i’m not a monster pete

user30: i’m crying at the thought of tony stark pushing his daughter into a pond😭😭

user31: ^^^

tonystark: this is defamation

steverogers: glad to see you guys doing well pep!

pepperpotts: you should come over for dinner sometime soon!!

tonystark: please leave the 2 assholes that follow you around at home thanks

pepperpotts: TONY

yourusername: bring them for the bit

samwilson: i’m going to get morgan the loudest fucking toy for christmas now

user32: this thread is a mess😭😭

user33: it’s so weird to see y/n without peter lol

user34: lol frfr

user35: i’m kinda starting to ship them ngl

user36: omg yes!!

user37: you guys can never let a boy and girl just be friends😒

tonystark: my arms are so tired from pushing morgan in that swing all day

yourusername: sounds like a skill issue

peterparker: ^^^

tonystark: i’d like to see you two single-handedly save new york from an impending nuke

user38: 😭😭😭

jamesrhodes: looks like a perfect day for the stanks!

tonystark: you’re never letting that go are you

jamesrhodes: nope!

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: when the trip makes it out of the family group chat >>>]

story replies

peterparker: can’t wait!!!

yourusername: i am so beating you to the best room

user39: i just know the pics are abt to be fire🔥🔥

user40: where are you going?

mjjones: i’m expecting a real life nemo

yourusername: 🫡🫡

liked by peterparker, pepperpotts, mjjones, and others

yourusername: us virgin islands? this american def ain’t a virg—

tagged: @/peterparker @/tonystark @/pepperpotts

view comments below

user41: HELLO?!?

user42: GIRL WHAT!?

peterparker: ain’t nothin’ virgin abt this isla—

yourusername: 🏝️= 👉👌

user43: WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!

user44: YOUR PARENTS FOLLOW YOU Y/N

mjjones: the island after y’all left: 🤰

yourusername: MJ I’M SCREAMING😭😭

nedleeds: so was the isla—i’m gonna stop

user45: 😭😭

tonystark: sometimes i think i asexually reproduced you like a plant

yourusername: surprised you didn’t clone yourself in a lab or smth

jamesrhodes: don’t give him ideas

user46: i’m freaking out over the caption

user47: no fr…

user48: AND PETER’S COMMENT

user49: 🎶i think they did it but i just can’t prove it🎶

steverogers: there’s definitely an innuendo in here somewhere but i’m just going to pretend i’m blind and go

yourusername: good choice

user50: CAPTAIN AMERICA SIR—

user51: mom come pick me up i’m scared

liked by yourusername, nedleeds, tonystark, and others

peterparker: i have sand in my ass

tagged: @/yourusername @/tonystark @/pepperpotts

view comments below

user52: love how peter was invited on the family vacation

user53: he really is just part of the fam

user54: so convinced he and y/n are dating

user55: god i hope so

nedleeds: simp

peterparker: damn right - y/n

user56: not y/n stealing peter’s phone to comment this

user57: simp you say👀

yourusername: damn who that hottie in slide 2?

peterparker: you boo😘 - y/n

yourusername: aww thanks boo🥰

user58: 😭😭

steverogers: and that’s enough instagram for me tonight

tonystark: i still don’t know what y’all were looking at

yourusername: your ego obviously🙄

user59: oh to go on a hike with tony stark

user60: oh to be dating y/n stark

user61: they never said they’re dating…

user62: shhh let us be delusional🤫

liked by pepperpotts, jamesrhodes, yourusername, and others

tonystark: the difference between morgan and y/n on vacation…

tagged: @/pepperpotts @/yourusername

view comments below

user63: omg😭😭

user64: y/n is such a mood

peterparker: morgan is a menace at go karts

yourusername: she plays too much mario kart fr

jamesrhodes: when one gets pepper’s genes and the other yours…

yourusername: i can’t believe you’ve done this

tonystark: oh but tis has

user65: i wanna say i’m morgan but in reality i’m y/n

user66: thisssss

user67: same😭

pepperpotts: to be fair y/n was hungover in the second pic…

yourusername: the porcelain gods did not grant mercy on me😔

liked by tonystark, peterparker, steverogers, and others

pepperpotts: great vacation with even greater company💕💕

tagged: @/tonystark @/yourusername @/peterparker

view comments below

peterparker: thank you for the invitation mrs. potts

user68: stop he’s too cute

user69: peter you’re adorable

user70: what a wonderful time to spend with family!

tonystark: i love you mrs. potts

pepperpotts: i love you mr. stark

yourusername: 😖🤮

jamesrhodes: glad to see tony still somehow manages to end up in the er on every trip

tonystark: i have a world record to hold up😤

user71: lmao😭

yourusername: i’m still full from that feast

peterparker: none of my pants fit after that salmon😩

user72: LOVE🤍🤍

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: 🌟🌊]

story replies

peterparker: you really are the best

yourusername: you too pete💞

user73: holy shit holy shit holy—

user74: omg i’m so happy for you

steverogers: so did you two…fondue?

yourusername: OH MY GOD

liked by yourusername, mjjones, nedleeds, and others

peterparker: another post bc we leave tmrw

tagged: @/yourusername @/tonystark

view comments below

yourusername: gonna miss sneaking out…

tonystark: oh please you do that back home too

yourusername: it’s not the same🙄

nedleeds: can’t wait to see you man!!

peterparker: so ready for our mandalorian marathon!

mjjones: nerds

yourusername: ^^^

user75: lmao tony😭😭

user76: he’s keeping an eye out for selener

user75: STOP😭

tonystark: andddd you’re grounded from the lab for that pic

peterparker: awww man😔

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: when he cares abt school🤭🫠]

story replies

peterparker: you were just making fun of me for studying🤨

yourusername: semantics

user77: automatically makes a guy hotter

yourusername: hear hear🗣️

mjjones: that better be acdec work…

liked by mjjones, peterparker, tonystark, and others

yourusername: here’s the hard launch for you bitches

tagged: @/peterparker

view comments below

user78: OMG OMG OMG—

user79: I CALLED IT

peterparker: so happy to call you mine🫶🏻

yourusername: 😘

mjjones: abt damn time…

nedleeds: ^^^

tonystark: ^^^

jamesrhodes: ^^^

pepperpotts: ^^^

steverogers: ^^^

samwilson: ^^^

happyhogan: ^^^

yourusername: damn ok then

tonystark: keep the door open

tonystark: and don’t even THINK about fonduing in my house

yourusername: PLEASE STOP

© tea-writes19 do not repost, translate, or copy

[keisobe]

── ⋆˙⟡♡ 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 (𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚)

from spider-man : across the spiderverse (spoiler free!!)

characters. miles morales. miguel o’hara. hobie brown & peter b. parker. + pavitr prabhakar

notes. i quickly wrote this because spiderverse has consumed a lot of my attention (cue the tiktok edits i’ve saved of hobie and miguel). anyways hope i did the characterization accurate enough and hope it was fun to read ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) + not completely proofread

𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 ❤︎

he’s painfully awkward when it comes to hugging. his limbs don’t know where to wrap around, so they keep flaring everywhere until you end up locking him into one solid hug.

miles is also very respectful of your boundaries, he would do that weird hover hand thing over your waist that would look very off in photos (his hand literally 3 inches away from your shoulder, but a good photo overall).

but when he’s close to you, he would pull you into a protective and warm embrace— especially if he has been worried sick about you. that’s until he pulls away and let’s out a chuckle accompanied with a light scratch on the back of his neck to ease his worries.

“umm… wait— lemme just…”

miles’ arms were bending awkwardly and moving in lightning speed, a nervous smile plastered onto his conflicted features— twitching brows and all.

you huffed at his failed attempt to simply embrace you, so you forcefully hooked your arms around his neck and brought him closer, feeling the softness of his cheek against your forehead and the pacing heartbeat you didn’t know he had.

“it’s fine, it’s just me silly.” you teased into his ear, prompting miles to chuckle at his own awkwardness and to wrap his strong arms around your waist.

“right, it’s you.” he whispered more to himself, leaning down to reach your height and to cutely rest his head in the nape of your neck. “just you.”

𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 ❤︎

hasn’t been held in so long. he says that he doesn’t do hugs, will probably go into flight-and-fight mode if you even asked for a small embrace. if you’re lucky though, he’ll leave you with a deadly glare and an annoyed huff.

but in the heat of the moment, in the moments of needed comfort, he will be there to give you an embrace. although, his hugs are tight, to the point you have a hard time breathing. it’ll take him a moment to notice that you’re literally breathless and will cough a lousy sorry as compensation for squeezing you to death (but he actually feels bad).

what nobody knows (maybe expect you) is that he prefers hugs that can display his strength. lifting you off from the ground with ease makes him smirk to himself. surprise hugs from the back also avoids the awkwardness of confronting actual romantic contact (it’s also more fun for him).

“what now?” miguel folds his arms impatiently as he watches you dumbly spread your arms out, a determined glint in your eyes.

no response, you simply spread your arms wider. miguel huffs an annoyed laugh and awkwardly comes up to you to embrace you, with a tightness that made you choke for air. then he suddenly lifts you from the floor, making you latch tightly around his neck.

miguel sighs deeply, the irritation that emitted from him suddenly became comfortably warm.

“did you need this hug?” you managed to breathe out, threading your fingers through the loose brown hair in the back of his neck.

“yeah, i really needed it.” miguel mumbles out in embarrassment, tightening his muscular arms around your waist— prompting a weak yet satisfied wheeze from your lips.

𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 ❤︎

he’s chill with hugs, but he’s very friendly about it. likes to latch an arm on his mates and such— but an immediate sweet embrace you won’t really get (he’s good at reading people, so if you’re vibes are off, he ain’t moving an inch).

he generally prefers to give side hugs, nothing too personal and definitely fits his overall demeanor. match that up with a firm compliment and a friendly pat on the shoulder. but if he’s close to you, he’ll be there patiently with open arms.

then he’s analyzing you closely as you embrace him, listening closely for a change in your heartbeat or any small noise that escapes your mouth. he subtly smells you too and will not forget your scent (will use the same detergent as you right after the embrace). there’s a moment of silence and it’s perfectly comfortable.

“c’mere.” hobie faintly whispers with an expanded arm, his expression unusually soft.

immediately you ran to receive an embrace from his slim body, a wet sniffle muffled into his webbed suit as tears began to pour from your eyes. hobie hovers a calloused hand over your back, thinking for a moment, until he decides that it was fine to do so. he pats the small of your back comfortably, murmuring a song he wrote to soothe your sadness.

“thank you hobie.” you hiccuped, leaning onto his chest. hobie simply nodded, playing with the ends of your hair with a painted finger.

“yea...” he mumbled, noticing that the tears that stained your cheeks before faded and your breathing steadied. “no probs.”

𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 ❤︎

he’s painfully awkward too. pull him into an embrace, he will let out an uncomfortable chuckle as he carefully pries you off his body. peter makes it obvious he wants his space, rightfully so.

actually, head pats is something he prefers to give. it’s comforting for him to be able to teasingly mess your hair to get a whine from you, or feel the texture of your hair under his palms. also, he’s an old man (will feel extremely insulted if you say his comforting technique is equivalent to that of an elderly folk).

but if he’s close with you or there is a moment when an embrace is desperately needed, he wouldn’t hesitate to pull you into a deep embrace. due to his new plushness to his body and rarity of his soft affection, peter’s embraces feel warm and inviting. sorry though, it’ll only last a few seconds until he’s pulling away immediately (will give up if you pull him back into the embrace tho).

“there, there kiddo…” peter softly pats your head, poorly attempting to cool your temper.

“not working peter.”

peter sighs in defeat as he slowly retracted his hand, thinking of a solution to cheer you up. without a second thought, he quickly pulled you into an embrace with efficient strength— the softness of his stomach contrasted the hardness of his chest. immediately you light up, nuzzling into his warm arms as he playfully swayed your body side-to-side.

“better?” he chuckled at your dazed expression, maybe hugging wasn’t so bad.

“yeah…” you could hear the slow patters of his heartbeat as he tightened the protective hold around your waist.

MOCHIFILM © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

[withahappyrefrain]

FRAT TASM!PETER WITH

“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”

THIS IS SOMETHING THAT COCKY ASSHOLE WOULD SAYYY OH MY GOD

This is how blonde frat Peter returns bless you

Warning: language, frat Peter being a cocky little shit, female reader, I think that's it!

"Hey, you made it after all."

You audbily breathe in through your nose, trying to ignore the fumes of vodka and who knows what else was in this God forsaken jungle juice.

Anything to give you the strength to face Peter Parker.

You turn around to find him leaning against the door, a joint tucked behind his ear, hands in the pocket of his black hoodie, bleached blonde hair somehow perfectly messy.

"Don't get ahead of yourself Parker. I'm only here to support my roommate," you scoff, turning your attention back to the game of beer pong. Not that you were truly interested.

But you couldn't let him know that.

You regret being late to the first day of your Science Diplomacy & World Health class. Had you known it would have left you no choice but to sit next to Peter Parker, you wouldn't have hit the snooze button for your alarm five times.

It wasn't even like you had asked to borrow a pencil from him. He seemed drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.

"Y'know, I feel like I would have remembered a face like yours. You a transfer?" He asked, as if you two weren't in the middle of a lecture.

Thanks to your roommate being in the sorority that paired up with his frat, you had heard all about Peter Parker. The infamous parties. How he dyed his hair blonde at the beginning of sophomore. How he's the biggest flirt that Delta Lambda Phi had.

You didn't even look at him when you responded, "We've been in the same class since freshman year. But I came here to get a degree, not to party."

Ever since that day, he wouldn't leave you alone. At first it started with ridiculously over the top pick up lines.

"Are you made up of copper and tellurium? Because you're cute."

All you could do was roll your eyes at every line, mustering all the strength you had to not smile. You had eyes, the guy was cute. But you also knew his type.

So when he extended a personal invite to the latest frat party, you simply turned him down, like you had for countless of other parties.

Of course, as luck would have it, it was exactly the party your roommate wanted to go to.

You hoped to avoid him, hoped that your roommate would find whoever she was looking for so you could leave.

But it was as if Peter Parker had a sixth sense for you specifically. His inability to find you in libraries, dinning halls, and the university's coffee shop (bc fuck Starbucks) had now extended to frat parties.

"You know Parker, stalking is a serious crime," you scoff, refusing to look at him. The ever present scent of cinnamon alerted you that he was now standing next to you.

"It's not my fault you have a beautiful face that I could pick out from a crowd," He mumbles, a stark contrast to the usual cocky bravada you're used to.

"Excuse me?" Without thinking, you turn to face him, making contact with those big brown eyes.

The corner of his pink lips jerk upwards as he leans in, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. His touch is gentle, something you weren't expecting at all.

"You heard me." The cocky smile had returned, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Hey, don't gimme that. I know you love how cheesy I am."

Unfortunately, it was true. He was never crude and it somehow sounded genuine, despite being accompanied by a worn snapback.

"It's not crass, unlike your fellow brotherin. I'll give you that Parker." You would have taken a step back if you could, but you were now up against the wall. But he still had space to close in on you, not that he did. He always kept enough distance that you could walk away.

Come to think of it, you hadn't seen or heard him flirt with anyone since the first day of classes.

"Y'know, I got an offer from Delta Chi. It could be way worse." His comment earned a laugh from you, a feat Peter was quite proud of.

"You're right, I guess I should give you that."

"I think you can give me a lot more," He leaned in, closing some of the distance between you two but not all the way, "If you want."

The ball was in your court. His lips looked so soft, no doubt from the vanilla chapstick he used. God, why did you know that about him? And why did he always smell like cinnamon instead of Axe body spray? That's what he should be using, it would certainly make it easier for you to discourage your own feelings about the guy.

Tired of denying, tired of putting up a wall, and not kissing anyone in the last four months caused you to grab at his hoodie, your lips crashing onto his.

You vaguely register the sound of the dropped plastic cup, as your fingers thread through his hair to find it soft, despite all the hair dye and bleach.

Peter's hands feel large as they skim your sides, landing at your hips. When his tongue slid across your bottom lip, you could feel your knees begin to go weak. As if he could sense it, he pushed your back firmly against the wall, one of his large hands going down to your thigh to help steady you.

Fuck, his lips were soft. There was muscle underneath that hoodie, you could feel it.

His lips trailed down to your jaw before settling on your ear.

"I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard. Wanna hear about it?"

Desire burned at the pit of your stomach, your fingers gripping the strands of his hair.

"Where the fuck is your bedroom Parker?"

[hanasnx]

“ DO YOU REMEMBER HOW IT FELT WHEN I TOUCHED YOU? ” — peter parker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 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 you’re constantly about to sit him down for a serious talk regarding your relationship with him. Maybe he’s not spending enough time with you, or when he does spend time with you he’s suspiciously absent-minded, or maybe he’s not dividing any of his priorities evenly—but he knows you’re 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 there’s one thing he can get right.

“Oh, Peter!” 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. It’s extra sensitive tonight, and he almost can’t believe his stroke of good luck—almost. It’s not like he’d 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. “Pete- Pete, keep going—please.” you plea, writhing languidly in the mess of sheets. He clears his cloudy mind.

“Right, sorry.” 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 doesn’t 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. You’ve 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 he’s doing now has something to do with it, you seem to like it. “Peter…” you sigh, and once he knows you’re loose enough, he pushes his two fingers in a knuckle without any friction.

“Baby, you’re so wet.” 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 you’re 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. He’s not going to keep you waiting any longer than you already have, he’s fucking the cum out of you now. He adds another finger, this time he feels the stretch but you clearly don’t care about the sting—in fact you welcome it. You’re 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. Don’t need to tell him you’re close, he’s 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. “You did so good, baby, you want another one?”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

hi first of, i love your writing so much. secondly, i dont know if you take requests, and if you dont, that's totally fine. but i was wondering if you could do a peter x reader in an established relationship & living together and her brother or cousin (whatever really) unexpectedly shows up and she just calls peter a roommate. then he comes out all jealous until he realizes thats her family

a/n: this one has been in my inbox for so long, feels really nice to finally write it

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

You swiftly leapt out of the kitchen as the doorbell suddenly rang, leaving your boyfriend behind as he continued to clutch a wooden spoon and make sure your dinner didn’t burn. Though as you pulled open the front door to your apartment, the surprise on the other side nearly caused you to stumble. 

“Will!” your jaw hit the floor at the sight of none other than your brother, “what are you doing here?” 

“I was in town,” he flashed you a bright grin, holding out his arms like he was the expensive Lego set your parents never permitted you to get as a child, “what, am I not allowed to just drop by?” 

“No, of course you are,” you faintly shook your dazed head as he crossed over the threshold, “we were just about to have dinner–” 

“We?” his eyebrows cocked, “oh shit, do you have company right now?” 

“No, no, or well, it’s just Peter.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah, my boy–, roommate,” you swiftly squeaked, “he’s my roommate.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a roomie!” he smiled as he kicked off his shoes and set down his bag. 

“Uhm, yep,” you stiffly coughed, “it’s kind of a new development…” 

“Hey, darling,” Will then glanced over his shoulder after he’d hung his coat up on a hook on the hallway wall, “where’s the bathroom?” 

“Right down there,” you pointed before watching him trot down in that direction. 

Once you’d returned to the kitchen, the soft smile, that had been on Peter’s lips back when you’d left, had faded as he continued to drag the long spoon through the sautéing vegetables. 

Narrowing his gaze in your direction, he then said, “so, roomie,” his petty tone revealing how much he’d overheard through the apartment’s thin walls, “who’s Will?” he kissed his teeth, “anything you’d like come clean about?” 

“What?” your face instantly scrunched up, “ew, gross, no! Will is my brother!” 

All of Peter’s tension then promptly melted away, “oh, Will, Will! Your brother Will!” he connected the dots, then smiled widely as, “hey look, your brother’s here,” flowed out past his lips in an adorably genuine tone, as if he hadn’t just misunderstood everything. 

“Yes, you weirdo,” you light-heartedly rolled your eyes and shifted to check the timer on the things in the oven. 

“Doesn’t he already know about us?” he asked, “we have been together for two years and, oh yeah, we live together! I don’t know about you, but that’s not exactly what I’d describe as a casual relationship.” 

“No, of course, he knows about the vague idea of you,” gaze averted to the scraps left on the cutting board, you began to explain, “but he doesn’t know that we moved in together, and if he knows, then that means my parents will know, and trust me, you’re not ready for that yet.” 

“I think I can handle a couple of parents, thank you very much,” he chuckled, not yet heeding your warning. 

Finally meeting his gaze, you placed a hand on his forearm and exhaled, “honey, they would interpret us moving in together as instant wedding bells and like a trillion babies. I am doing this for your protection.” 

“Oh…” he uttered slowly, his brows raising at your words, “well, thanks for having my back then.” 

“You’re welcome,” you briefly leaned in and pressed a peck to his lips before you drew back once more and sucked in a deep breath, conjuring the strength that the rest of the night surely required, “now, do you wanna go help me give my brother a tour and rapidly come up with an answer as to why we only have one bed?”

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[moonstruckme]

MAAAAEEEEE I was wondering if I could request a Peter Parker fic where he just kind of adopts shy!reader without her consent like “yeah we’re friends now, we spend time together and also we’re probably gonna fall in love and date but why don’t we just start with me walking you home from class” 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

You’re never alone on the way home from class anymore. You’re 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, it’s Peter. 

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 you’d think you handed him an A in the class. He’s 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 don’t know what you did to deserve the company, but you appreciate it. 

“You ever been there?” Peter asks, nodding to a stand advertising New York City’s Best Vegan Hot-Dogs. 

“No,” you say.

“Well, seems like we’ve gotta try them at some point. I mean, they’re the best in New York.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. Peter’s always doing that. Making plans, saying we. It’s like the idea of you two hanging out beyond the end of your class is a foregone conclusion in his head. You haven’t been able to figure out if that’s just the way Peter talks or if he means it. You hope it’s the latter. 

“You think so?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Peter says with affected certainty. “I mean, why would you doubt the sign? Everyone knows you have to get things like that certified.” 

You glance up at Peter, but one look into his smiling eyes is too much for you. You have to turn your face away. “I’m pretty sure there are three #1 Indian Restaurants in my neighborhood.” 

“Oof. Must make for some brutal decisions when you’re craving Indian.” 

Two weeks ago, you offered to buy Spider-Man dinner for walking you home. It was stupid—he can’t 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 mouth—but 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. 

You haven’t told Peter about your vigilante escort. Spider-Man never comes to you while Peter’s around—presumably because you don’t need his help if you’ve already got a companion—and it’s 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? They’re unanswerable questions, and you’d never be able to look at Peter again if he laughed at you. 

“Hey.” Peter bumps your hip with his. You go stiff at the contact. “You okay?” 

“Hm?” You look up, and he’s watching you with concern. “Yeah, sorry.” 

“You seem a little quiet,” he says. And when your face heats, “Well, quieter than usual.” 

“Sorry,” you say again, embarrassed. “I think I’m just tired.” 

“Oh, yeah? Class was a long one, huh?” 

“Yeah.” 

“That makes sense.” Peter sounds disappointed. You blink at him in confusion, and he almost winces. “I don’t suppose…I mean, if you just want to get home I get that, but I was wondering if you wanted to grab food? With me?” 

Your steps stutter. It’s not that you and Peter have never hung out before. Or even that all the time you’ve spent together centers wholly around class—there have been coffees, chats in the hallway, walks in the park near your university building—but it’s something about the way he asks, like it’s important this time, like it means something. You want for it to mean something. 

“I could still grab food.” You’re not quite looking at him, fiddling with the contents of your jacket pocket. Popping the lid to your chapstick on and off. 

“Yeah?” Peter asks hopefully. 

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Mhm.” 

His voice softens, a smile in it. “Could you look at me, maybe?” 

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, he’s the sort of handsome that’s only just starting to figure out how handsome he is. You think you probably make it easier for him. To figure it out. 

“Do you really want to,” he asks in a sincere tone, “or are you just appeasing me? If you’re tired I can take you straight to your place.” 

Your heart thudders. If you have to look at him for much longer you worry you’ll melt into the cracks of the pavement. “I want to,” you say. “I’m sort of hungry, too.” 

“Okay, awesome.” He sounds happy again. You think if you were lucky, that’d be the only thing you were put on Earth to do, make Peter happy. “Maybe we could try one of those Indian places near yours? See who’s really number one.” 

“Sure.” You smile up at him, brain buzzing when Peter beams back. 

“Sick! I could really go for some matar paneer.” 

[writtenbymoonflower]

Unpretty

You are insecure and Peter is oblivious. tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

cw: reader had very negative thoughts about body image. mentions of weight and general body image issues. i tried to keep it as neutral as possible so everybody could read and relate, so it can be read as plus!size reader or not.

1.5k words

The position you were in wasn’t unnecessarily uncomfortable. The physical part felt really nice, actually. Peter was laid on his side, nose nuzzled into your hair while you were in his arms flat on your back. His even breathing was soothing and you felt close and warm. 

Emotionally, however, you felt confused. 

You had to resist cringing every time you remembered that Peter’s large hand was spread over the bottom of your tummy, likely feeling everything “wrong” about it. He could definitely feel it wasn’t as flat or firm as you would like it to be, even through your thick crewneck. And even though you logically knew it was impossible, you felt the stinging insecurity all over your body, like he was touching you everywhere you hated. Your brain was telling you that through feeling the soft part of your stomach, he could also feel and see where your thighs were too big, where stretchmarks were painted all over your body, and where your skin wasn’t completely smooth. 

He probably would hate my body as much as I do if he could see. The little voice in your head nagged. 

Obviously, you knew that wasn’t true. You knew that everyone had little things that bothered them and yours weren’t even especially unusual. You also knew that voicing these thoughts to Peter would likely lead to you being even more self-conscious and him being confused. Or even worse, him pitying you. You were snapped out of your spiral by Peter’s shifting in position. 

“What’re you thinking of, baby?” Peter whispered. To your horror, his hand started rubbing your stomach over your sweater. “I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.” He laughed the way he does when trying to calm you down, like he doesn’t think it’s funny but it might be less intimidating if you believe he does. You turned your head to look at him. Being this close didn’t allow you to see his full face, but you could see one of his pretty brown eyes, looking at you with far too much love for your heart to handle.

“Not thinking of anythin’ really.” You kept your voice as even as possible and hoped he didn’t hear the nervous hitch in your breath as he reached under the hem of your sweatshirt to touch your skin. You panicked and tried to cover by grabbing his hand in yours and holding it between your ribs, right under your chest. He looked confused but still stroked your hand with his thumb.

“Yeah okay.” He was sarcastic and rolling his eyes but his voice was still light. He brought your joined hands up to kiss the veins on your wrist, closing his eyes and letting his lips linger for a good few seconds. All while still burning his eyes over your face, letting his pupils linger over a feature before jumping to the next, admiring your whole face with so much care you would cry. 

“What?” You asked, growing shy under his intense stare. 

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He was still smiling at you like a fool. “So so pretty.” He sing-songed. He urged you to lay on top of him with his arms, but you held fast in your place. Your boyfriend apparently took this as a challenge, because he showed off his real strength by pulling you fast onto his chest. 

“Peter!” You said, scolding and nervous and flustered all at once. 

“What?” He asked smugly, with a look of triumph on his face. You ducked your head out of his eyesight. “Baby, what’s up?” He asked again, more sincere. You still didn’t answer, your anxiety was roaring too loud in your head. You were probably crushing him under your weight. His hands were planted on your hips, likely feeling the extra fat and getting grossed out. He was just too nice to say anything. He was also too far close to your face for comfort, definitely seeing patches of oily skin or blemishes littering your face. It all became too much for you and you tried to roll off of him, but he gripped onto you harder. 

“Peter, let me off.” You kept your voice light but you were panicking inside. 

“Yeah, not happening.” He stayed stubborn as a mule. 

“But I’m heavy, I’ll crush you.” You said desperately. 

“Good.” He rebutted, still acting as if this was a casual conversation. 

“Peter, I’m serious. I’m too heavy for this. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Your voice trailed off, getting quieter towards the end. The whole sentence was soaked in shame that Peter hadn’t yet picked up on. Now, there was a concerned crease between his eyebrows. 

“Huh?” He looked genuinely confused. “What put that dumb idea in your head? ‘Too heavy’ for what, exactly?” He started as if he was about to rant, but cut it short. To your dismay, he pulled more of your weight onto him. 

“It’s not dumb, it’s true. I’m just too heavy” You argued back. He couldn’t really be that oblivious. Anyone with eyes could see it. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” He started sassing, like he actually wasn’t sorry at all. “I didn’t know that you now were the only deciding judge of something being ‘too much.’” He was being defiant on purpose. 

“Peter, please.” All joking and argumentativeness had left your tone, just leaving shame and sadness. Peter softened at this and encouraged your head up to meet his eyes, holding your jaw firmly so you couldn’t look away. He looked like he was slowly putting pieces together in his head. 

“Baby,” He started, still not breaking eye contact with you. “Is this why you’ve not been letting me touch you as much?” Peter looked so sad, it didn’t suit him at all and you wanted to make it better immediately. “Do you think there’s something wrong with you, that I would think there’s something wrong with you?” On the last sentence he was extra distressed, like he couldn’t believe the words were leaving his mouth. 

“I just-” You were trying to articulate your feelings without making this any worse. “I mean, not every part of me is pretty, you know that.” You tried to say it casually but Peter’s expression didn’t lighten at all. Instead, his bottom lip jutted out and his eyes got wider, looking like a cartoonishly sad puppy who was denied a treat. 

“I don’t know that, actually.” He moved his hand to the back of your head, threading his fingers in your hair. “You don’t think you’re pretty?” He said the last part like his heart was cracking. And in Peter’s mind, it was. His baby was thinking badly of herself, and even worse, she was thinking he thought badly of her. 

“I mean,” You cringed as the words left your mouth, wanting desperately for the conversation to end. “Not really. At least, there is a lot about me that could be a lot better.” Peter was at a loss for words. You had obviously mulled this over and were solid in your opinion. 

“I don’t think there is. I think you are perfect. I love everything about you.” He said softly, his voice missing its usual teasing tone.

“But-” You started, but cut yourself off. 

“But what?” Your argumentative boyfriend was back. “C’mon. Talk to me, baby.”

“I just-” You gathered your thoughts as best you could. He was really being difficult. There was no way he hadn’t noticed something. You also really did not want to say your insecurities out loud. It was too raw. But you knew Peter, and he wouldn’t back off without you giving something. “My stomach isn’t flat.” You said, as if that was enough argument for you being disgusting. 

“Okay?” He actually laughed at this, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “And?” 

You rolled your eyes, irritated. “And, in general I’m just too big. And my skin isn’t good either. It just doesn’t all add up very well does it?” You resisted the urge to cry, you didn’t want to add that on top of this already stressful discussion. 

“Sweetheart,” He looked exasperated. “I think- I think you’re being really mean and unfair to yourself.” He searched for the right words. “Everyone has things about themselves they don’t like, yeah? But you should know, you are not too anything, and there is nothing about your looks or body that is ‘not good.’’ He said every word firmly. “And most importantly, there is nothing, absolutely nothing about your body that I dislike, or that you should worry about me seeing or touching, okay?” His voice was soft during the last few sentences, like he was speaking to a little kid with a scraped knee. It made it a lot harder to resist crying. “Okay?” he said, still looking directly into your eyes. 

“Okay.” You said, watery. You swallowed hard and buried your face in his chest, feeling all too many emotions. “Thank you, Pete.” You didn’t think you could say anything else without falling apart. 

“It’s okay. I'ts alright. It’s what I’m here for.” He stroked the back of your head, still being gentle. “Just do me a favor, yeah?” 

“Mhm?” You muffled.

“Just, make my job easier for me next time. Tell me when you’re feeling like this, okay baby?” He pleaded as he pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“Okay. I will.” 

“Good. Now cuddle me please.” Demanding Peter was back. “And put all your weight on me, it’s no good otherwise.”