#tasm!peter fluff

[literaila]

I'd love to request a reader who's obsessed with love languages (me fr) and is trying to figure out what peter's is without directly asking him

obviously r gets caught in the act

Thank you so much!!

-🔮

stalemate

tasm!peter x reader

warnings: teasing, fluff, complex relationship issues (lying)

a/n: i do believe peter’s love language is physical touch/words of affirmation but that’s a conversation for a different time

*

“would you rather run errands with someone and hold hands, or run errands with someone and get kicked out of the store cause you’re ‘disturbing the other customers?’”

peter momentarily pauses his chewing, raising an eyebrow at you. “one of these scenarios involves me getting escorted out of the grocery store.”

“yeah, but because you’re having too much fun.”

he shakes his head. “no such thing.”

“clearly, there is.”

he rifles through the remainder of his food, like digging for gold, but his cheek is twitching, and his eyes are thoughtful as he looks down. “why cant i have fun and hold hands with you?”

“okay,” you point at him, leaning back. peter, though you’d put his food across the kitchen table, so you could sit face to face, was adamant that you were too far. so now there’s only a table corner separating the two of you. and these questions, of course, building up a careful foundation. “first of all, i didn’t say it was me—“

“who else would get us kicked out of a grocery store?”

“and second of all, because that’s not the question. holding hands or ribs-hurt laughing?”

“both of those sound equally painful,” peter keeps leaning towards you like he knows something you don’t. which he doesn’t.

you lean forward too, undeterred by his challenge. “so you’re a completely-silent-errand-running-with-a-healthy-five-foot-distance kinda guy?”

“we literally went shopping today.” peter gestures back to the kitchen, where bags of produce and sugary containers (peter’s pickings) remain. after dinner, you’d both swore, but you’re having a hard time finishing your food. “you know what kinda guy i am.”

so it goes, on and on. you asking peter the same type of hypothetical questions you’d been all day. he hasn’t seemed to question it, besides a couple of ill-fated looks.

and you do. know, that is. peter did almost get you kicked out of the store today, when he’d tripped over a sign and knocked down a whole shelf of boxes. this, he claimed, was the crime of a faulty layout. though, he’d bumped into the sign in the first place because he refused to let go of your hand, even when it was less than conscientious.

this, though, you don’t bring up.

“if i bought you a gift,” you continue, ignoring his carefully planned out bantering techniques. “would you want something expensive, or something heart-felt?”

“why is that a question?”

you stare at him, nonchalant, gesturing for him to continue.

“are you buying me a gift?” he asks, rolling his eyes at you.

“maybe. your birthday’s coming up.”

“it is november,” he says, dryly.

“good memory.”

peter snorts. “my birthday is in august. you know, like, two months ago?”

“hmm…” you lean your chin on a hand, staring into hard honeysuckle eyes with feigned confusion. “i must’ve missed it.”

“you got me a spider-man calendar.”

“don’t recall.”

“i can go get it,” he points over his shoulder, leaning, again, towards you. enough so that you can feel his breath, smooth and challenging. “it’s just in the bedroom.”

“answer the question.”

he sighs and leans back again, almost laughing. “heartfelt, obviously. like my very cherished spider-man calendar. which is for this year, i might add.”

“what a wonderful gift,” you smile too, adoringly, “you should thank whoever got it for you.”

peter furrows his brows, though not in confusion. “i did,” he says, softly, trying to break you.

but you remain where you are, smiling as cool as you’ve been all day.

which is to say, of course, that you’ve been dancing circles around peter and hoping that he hasn’t noticed.

you hadn’t even thought of it until two days ago, when out to lunch with your friend and she mentioned a book—fabled and probably recommended by some hot-shot magazine—about how to connect with your partner.

“love languages,” she’d said to you, “are the basis to every relationship.”

and this must have been true because despite a rough patch between her and her girlfriend, they were now as solid as always. and you could tell this, just from how at ease she’d seemed.

which, naturally, put you on edge.

not that you doubted peter, or your relationship with him. besides some run of the mill insecurities, peter was probably the loveliest person you’d ever met. so it was probably a bad thing that you had no clue—not a single suspicion, or thought—what his love language was.

thus, the questions began. and peter’s dubiousness doubled with every one you asked.

evident because he was still watching you. “are we acting out a scenario in which you need a visa and i agree to marry you?”

you kick him under the table. “what? i cant ask you questions?”

“i think this is the fortieth one today.”

“i’ve asked, like, three, and you haven’t even tried to answer any of them properly.”

“you know we’re in a real relationship, right? i know your favorite color and everything.”

you stand up from the table, grabbing your take-out container, and his, and walking to the kitchen.

peter trails after you, clearly noticing your evasion. “do you actually need a visa?” he asks, leaning against a counter, almost knocking over one of the grocery bags. “cause i think you’re supposed to tell the person you’re getting married to. so i can ask you some questions.”

“doesn’t seem like you’re having any problems with that.”

peter snorts and comes behind you while you grab something out of the first bag. his hands are warm as they wrap around your waist, resting on your stomach like a possession. “what’s up with you?”

“i’m unbagging the groceries.”

“you’ve been acting weird all day. do you need to talk to me about something?”

“no.” you pull away from him, putting some apples in the fruit bowl. “you’re crazy.”

“yes. i am the crazy one.”

you hum and walk around him, carefully not meeting his eyes.

after a couple minutes of this, with peter pretending to put things away, you break, uncomfortable with the silence.

“painting a room together,” you start, “or cuddling?”

peter pushes off of the counter, his teeth peaking behind his lips. “cuddling, obviously. you’re a terrible painter.”

he moves about a foot away from you, staring, again, like he knows something you don’t.

“what?” you ask him, closing a drawer. you cross your arms.

“nothing. nothing.”

but peter is grinning at you.

“what’s with your face?”

“what’s with yours?”

you roll your eyes at him, not moving. peter copies your stance, and the two of you remain as still as statues, testing one another.

finally, peter laughs. “you think i don’t know what you’re doing?”

“posing hypothetical questions?”

“i know what love languages are, baby,” peter steps closer to you. his hands just lingering by the seam of your shirt. “you’d make a terrible detective.”

despite the heat running through your body at being caught, you narrow your eyes at him. “me? it only took you all day to figure it out.”

“that’s cause i was giving you the benefit of the doubt. i thought you really wanted to know.”

“i do,” you cross your arms, bumping into him, offended. “i would’ve given up like three hours ago if i didn’t.”

“you’re crazy,” he says, simply. his look is amorous. “you could’ve just asked me.”

“no. i should know just from spending time with you. that’s couple 101.”

peter actually laughs. right in your face. he leans down, resting his chin against your head for support. “cant say i’ve ever taken that class.”

“well you should. it’s very informative.”

“okay, professor, then what’s my love language?”

you open your mouth. then close it. you push him back. “i’m not telling you.”

“oh,” peter tilts his head. “why not?”

“cause that’s cheating. figure out your own love language.”

“you think i don’t know what i like?”

“nope.”

peter shakes his head at you. “you just don’t know.”

“you just don’t know,” you poke his cheek. “you couldn’t even decide which cereal to get. we have three boxes now.”

“that’s called choice paralysis,” he informs you, as if you didn’t have this conversation earlier. “and you agreed to that.”

“sure,” you say to him, turning away.

“you’re a sore loser.”

“we’re not playing a game.”

“the elaborate ‘would you rather’ scheme wasn’t a game?” he asks.

“it was an informative questionnaire.”

peter gets in your way as you try to walk out of the kitchen. “then why hasn’t it informed you?”

you roll your eyes at him again. “c’mon, peter, you know that data can take weeks to process.”

he runs a hand up to your face, easily trapping you. “you just don’t know” he repeats softly.

he’s getting close again; resuming the game he’d lost earlier.

“you don’t know,” you say, stubbornly, not meeting his eyes.

“i know i like you,” he answers, breath marring your reaction skills.

and before you can even smile in response, peter is kissing you.

his lips are soft, pushing at you like he wants you to admit defeat. consoling you into a loss. convincing you to back down.

but you refuse.

you pull away, pushing his hand off of you. “that’s cheating.”

“we never set any rules.”

“well you’re breaking one.”

peter leans and let’s it go, crossing his arms as he looks at you, very arrogantly. “that’s okay,” he shrugs.

you attempt to catch your breath while peter stares at you, clearly thinking that he’s won.

“okay,” you say, pouting. “tell me. what’s your love language?”

peter smiles voraciously at this. he takes a step towards you, molding his body heat into yours.

then he shakes his head, his smile falling into something sweeter. “i don’t know,” he whispers to you, hand reaching down for yours, hair in his eyes. “physical touch, probably, before. but i like everything with you. i always want more, doesn’t matter what it is.”

you brush the hair out of his eyes, smiling.

though your intents are less than straightforward, there’s still a part of you that curls under this confession, like it just can’t take it.

“that’s sweet,” you whisper, leaning into him. he’s bent down so his nose is to yours.

peter hums, breathing in the smell of your skin, and pulling you closer and he stands there, lingering on the briefest of touches.

he tilts his head a bit, lips lined up with yours.

and you smile. “i’m not telling you mine,” you whisper to him, quickly pulling away and moving to the table, whistling as you do so.

you start to collect the trash you’d left there, hearing nothing for a moment, but peter’s heavy breathing.

you smile at the sound of his defeat.

“now that’s cheating,” he says, and you laugh.

*

[spiderfunkz]

─── ⋆ STAR-CHEEKED

pairings. peter parker x fem!reader

cw. tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, peter has freckles.

author’s note: i go and i come, and it's summer so my tumblr obsession is blossoming again. if you have any requests feel free to send me them! i'd love to be active on here again :P

summer shined bright. it stung your skin with a kiss, leaving traces of sun all over. the light made your hair appear a lighter shade, your cheeks flushed every time the morning came by. there were marks of sand and shells around your back— all of these memories were photographed by none other than your lovely boyfriend. capturing every moment with a flicker and flash.

the car ride back to new york was bittersweet. a part of you were excited to see the lively city again, but nothing in there could compare to the beaches and sunsets you've experienced for the past few days.

and now, a gust of wind greeted you as you and peter step into your shared apartment. it's a pretty scene, not many words can describe the place specifically as it was all shown, not spoken. the polaroid's of the two of you hung low from the walls, there was two potted plants by a corner, the scent of peter's cologne and your perfume still lingers the air, and the fridge— full of alphabet magnets that spell out 'i love you' from peter.

after the chaos which is unpacking and dividing the laundry. you felt the peace of summer again. basking under the sun, the smell of sunscreen, frozen yogurts, spending nights awake reading and writing poetry— it's the best time to open up, vulnerability usually sparks during moonlit skies. and now, you're able to spend the rest of the day with peter while the blue sky is still bright.

"i think i have salt infused in my hair, d'you think i could wash it off with conditioner?" you ask, practically jumping onto bed. the window behind you illuminated patterns from the lace curtains— you swore it was the best purchase ever. "no, that just means you have salt-flavored-hair now," you could hear the sarcasm from peter's voice, it made you laugh either way.

he laid his back right next to you. you paused to admire him, sometimes you wonder if the earth pauses with you from how breath-takingly gorgeous your boyfriend is.

"i left my glasses," he hummed. you don't answer, your elbow rested on the pillow whilst your palm supported your head. your eyes don't gaze away from peter. "you're staring, baby," peter's voice was like a melody you could replay over and over.

"how could you tell without your glasses?" you tease.

the sun beamed through the peaks of your curtains. and like art, it highlighted peter's face so well. you notice the spots on his face. his freckles were more vivid than ever. usually they perk up slightly during winter, but now they're as clear as day. "gosh, you're freckles are so cute."

peter's hands shyly cover his face instinctively, "don't look!"

you giggle, your hands reach out for his— and as per usual, your touch melts him right away. "why hide it?" you pout, peter shook his head.

"you'll tease me!"

"as if i don't tease you about everything already?"

his hands reveal the flushed look of peter's cheeks. it made his freckles stand out more, you find it adorable. peter usually says otherwise— however, your words have a way of giving him solace and serenity. it was laced with sincerity, your cheerfulness sometimes mimicked the curiosity of a child.

"stop staring at me, you're making me all nervous," peter smiled, dimples showing. you liked being a flirt to peter, "they're like stars, like constellations, pete."

you trace his face gently. "all pointing home," boop-ing his nose.

home was never just a place with peter. peter was your home.

[yasministration]

could i request summer, smut with peter. and the prompt “am i doing this right”

am i doing this right? - Peter parker

ʀᴀɪɴʏᴅᴀʏᴀᴛʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ' 3ᴋ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ!

You genuinely don't know what spirit had just possessed your shy, nerdy, virgin boyfriend. A string of moans escaped you, and you were so deep in pleasure, you didn’t worry about the fact that his aunt in the next room over might hear you. God, you would have to ask him later if he lied about not having done this before. Fingers snaked into Peter’s brown hair, pulling his face deeper into your cunt as your back arched impossibly, thighs clamping shut around his head. Peter’s hands soothingly caressed your thighs, his mouth unlatching from your clit so he could poke his head up from between your legs, a look of concern on his face.

You whined when Peter separated from you, chest heaving with panting breaths. “Are you okay?” Peter asked worriedly, anxious that he was hurting you. You nodded wordlessly, swallowing thickly as you let your head dig into his pillow. With your eyes shut, you missed the sudden expression of insecurity that flashed on your boyfriend’s face. “Am - am I doing this right?” Your eyes snapped open at the unsure tone lacing his voice. You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at Peter with a slacked jaw. “Pete, you’re joking right?” Peter shook his head slowly, causing you to grasp his jumper, tugging him upwards until you could slam your lips against his. Peter moaned softly, and you mumbled against his lips “Baby, that’s the best head anyone’s ever given me.” Peter didn’t believe you for a moment, convinced you were trying to make him feel better, but then he returned his gaze down to your pussy, watching with dilated pupils as your wetness soaked his sheets.

Without another word, he was returning to his previous position on his stomach, arms wrapped around your thighs, spreading them apart as he devoured you. You cried out suddenly, feeling Peter suction on your clit. Countless boys hadn’t been able to make you come with their cock, but you were sure that you were going to fall apart on Peter’s tongue soon. “Fingers, please.” You begged, voice breaking. Peter paused, unsure what to do. He was only just becoming confident in his ability to give you head, but introducing fingers now too? Feeling his hesitation, you reached an open hand down, waiting for Peter to give you his. You guided the tips of his fingers towards your entrance until his index and middle finger were probing your hole. “Here.” You mumbled, letting your legs fall apart further so Peter could easily slide his fingers into you. Your cunt immediately sucked him in, and Peter just observed your body for a moment with complete awe. The boy was mesmerised, but you were quickly bringing him back to reality with a desperate cry of his name.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, beginning to slowly pump his fingers into you as he returned his lips to your mound, pressing a couple of kisses before turning his attention to your clit. Peter focused hard on keeping the pace of his hand steady while he sucked on your clit, but you were quickly telling him to speed up, a feat he instantly followed. “This okay?” He mumbled against your pussy, but he didn’t receive an answer as you were too busy moaning so loudly he was sure Aunt May would come to his room tomorrow to tell him about a noise complaint. Gushing around Peter’s fingers, you threw your head back, panting heavily as your hand came back to the back of Peter’s head, this time pulling him away from your clit as you quickly became overstimulated.

As Peter came back up to properly kiss you, you finally accused “That was not your first time doing that.” But instead of shyly defending himself, a pink flush adorning his cheeks, he laughed with a newfound confidence. He was going to be doing this everyday from now on.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

curiousity glasses killed peter⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤ●ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ peter parker

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.

a/n. 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

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

[ptergwen]

can you do a fic where one of the peters (garfield or holland) is making out with the reader and starts to kiss and bite her neck and the little sounds she makes drives him insane

three strikes

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: 655

warnings: making out, suggestiveness

a/n: i went with tasm!peter hehe, def a fluffier approach to it but so so adorable & i hope you enjoy! keep the reqs coming y'all <3

winter in the city is magical. everything in the park is covered in a light dusting of snow, all the stone pathways and the trees, couples hand in hand and kids playing. then, there's peter. he's looking up at the sky with his tongue stuck out. he's so focused on trying to catch snowflakes that he doesn't notice you digging your hands into the snow, collecting a handful.

something hits peter's chest; a snowball. he looks across the way, where you're smiling mischievously. he brushes the snow off his jacket, chuckling. you're already making another snowball.

"i dunno, babe. i wouldn't do that if i were you."

despite peter's warning, you aim your arm to throw.

"you're playing with fire, you know that?"

"no, i’m playing with snow."

"oh, that's cute. really cute."

you promptly hit peter with the snowball. he raises a challenging eyebrow, and you know you're in for it. you start to run away, giggling, peter chasing after you. he's quick to catch up. he grabs your waist and pins you against a streetlight, breathing out smoke into the cold air through laughter.

"you wanna try that again?"

peter's gaze darts between your eyes and lips. you bite back a grin.

"kind of."

"what a shame. it'd be strike three."

"what happens after strike three?"

"you wouldn't get this."

peter leans in and kisses you. you loop your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. he hums in content, hands squeezing your waist and lips trailing over to your cheek. he pecks both your cheeks, your nose, just above your lips, peppering kisses all over your face until you're giggling and trying to push him away.

"no, no, no, stop! that tickles!"

peter kisses down your chin and back up, across your forehead, over to your temple. you grin despite yourself, tugging at his locks that are damp with snow.

"i’m serious, pete! stop it!"

"no can do, babe. can't help myself, you're just too damn cute."

peter pecks your cheek a few times, earning a noise of protest.

"so cute i could eat you up."

"nuh uh."

you pull the zipper of your jacket all the way up so it's covering the lower half of your face.

"yeah huh."

peter leaves big, lingering kisses on your forehead, each one punctuated with a mwah. when you realize he's not going to let up, you finally concede. you uncover your face and capture his lips with yours, the only way to make him stop. your nose nudges his, head tilting to look at him.

"are you done?"

"not even close."

peter kisses you again. you kiss him back, smiling into it. he moves your jacket out of the way and continues his kiss attack, this time on your neck. you let him have his fun, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin. you squeal when he finds one particular spot and nips at it.

"pete! what're you doing?"

"i told you, eating you up."

he playfully bites at your neck between a series of kisses, arms locked around your waist, drawing the most adorable sounds out of you that he can't get enough of. you thread your fingers through his hair.

"don't forget we're in public, mister."

your tone doesn't match your words, unconvincing, and you're resting your head on the lamp pole so peter has more access. he smirks.

"i know, they're just love bites."

he starts to suck at your neck. the pressure is light, but enough to leave a hickey. you play with his fluffy hair, letting out a noise between a sigh and a moan. you feel the vibrations from peter laughing. you feel something poking at your thigh, too.

"and you're telling me we're in public? whew, i think we'd better get you home."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

peter answers by holding you in place and kissing down your neck, making you breathless from laughter.

tags (join my new taglist!)

@mystic-writings @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @starlight-starks @belovasheart @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @magicalxdaydream @valluvsu @ronweasleysslut @winchestersgirl222 @sunf1ower-vol6 @raajali3 @niktwazny303 @marvelgurl @itsjanedeluca @prancerrparkerr @thollandsgirl2013

[bruisedboys]

omg mal congrats on 8k 🖤 may i request venom with tasm!peter (or james 🫣) with the prompt “whispering words of admiration and love between a kiss”

hi angel thank u so much! went with peter cos I haven’t written him in forever hehe hope u enjoy!! join the celly

tasm!peter parker x fem!reader, 0.6k words

“You’re so pretty,” Peter murmurs against your lips.

You try not to melt. Peter’s got you pressed into his mattress, poised above you with his knee wedged between your legs. You’re not so much kissing him as letting yourself be kissed, too breathless and too flustered to do much else. One arm braced on the pillow next to your head, Peter uses his other to hold your shoulder, his thumb pressing into the hollow of your neck.

“You can't even see me,” you whisper back. It’s getting dark in his room, mostly shadows but for a few strips of pale moonlight painting the floor and wall. You don't know how long he’s been kissing you like this. You just know you’re dizzy enough that it could've been hours by now and you wouldn’t know.

Peter laughs against your tingling mouth. “Mm, but I just know you look so pretty right now,” he whispers. “You’re beautiful all the time.”

Warmth blooms in your chest like a flower in spring. You don't know why he has to say things like that. As if his kissing wasn’t enough already. It’s like he wants you dead.

Peter kisses the side of your mouth languidly. Then his lips start to migrate downwards, searching. He paints a hot, sticky trail of kisses moving towards your neck. Meanwhile you’re gripping his shoulders like they’re a lifeline, scared if you let go you’ll melt into the bed like a popsicle in the summer.

“D’you want a hickey?” Peter murmurs into the space under your jaw. His teeth graze your skin lightly and chills shoot down your spine. You grab him harder.

“Yeah, okay,” you nod. His head’s low enough now that you can push your hand up into his hair, fingers curling into the thick, messy strands at the nape of his neck. You push your other hand over the hill over his shoulder to hold his bicep.

Peter hums and his mouth moves downwards to your sweet spot, right in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. He kisses you first, a hot press of his sticky lips. Then his lips part, and his tongue pushes over your skin, warm and wet. You shudder.

Peter chuckles lazily into your neck. “You okay?”

You pinch his arm. “Shut up.”

You feel him smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

You’re about to say something smart back when his teeth scrape over your neck. You inhale fast and tug him closer, your heartbeat turning frantic. Peter takes your skin between his lips and sucks at it, bullying your neck with rough, open mouthed kisses and the scraping of his teeth. He kisses you like this until you go hot as coals under him, worse when he presses his knee up further between your thighs.

When he’s done abusing your skin, Peter straightens up, hovering above you. You can just make out his face in the semi-dark, handsome as ever, his lips swollen and his chest heaving. Your own chest heaves as he looks at you in silence.

”What?” You ask, shy under his heavy gaze.

Peter shrugs. “Nothing. You’re beautiful.” He ducks down to kiss you again, on the mouth this time. “I love you,” he murmurs softly.

You really truly think you might melt in his hands any second now. It’s only a matter of time, when he’s being this sweet on you.

“I love you, too,” you manage weakly.

Peter grins an amused sort of grin. You wonder if he’s teasing you for your inability to function properly, but you don't care enough to do anything about it.

“You want another hickey?” He asks. He thumbs your throat, where your skin feels sensitive and raw. You’re sure it's bright purple by now. “One isn’t really enough, right?”

You tug him back down in lieu of an answer. You don't think you could get the words out if you tried.

[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.

[lomlsatoru]

༊*·˚ pretty boy | peter parker

main masterlist

for you, peter is the literally definition of pretty. his big brown puppy eyes and his perfectly structured face, his lean but muscular built, his cute little pout when you don’t give him a kiss before he goes patrolling.

he is just so so very pretty.

you don't know know how long you have been staring at him for, but he didn't seem to notice. too busy focusing on his science project, and his concentration is very hot.

his long slender fingers moving carefully and slowly to put the pieces together and your attention only zeroed on them. such, such pretty hands.

the weight of your stare was starting to make peter nervous. peter gets flustered very easily. and with you? you didn't even have to try.

peter suddenly put down the components for his project and turned to you, “i know i'm hot but can you please stop staring at me like that?” he mumbled, as a soft blush appear on his face. his tone was confident but you can sense his nervousness.

he tried focusing on his project again as you chuckled, the kind of chuckle that sends tingles all over peter's body, “sorry pete, but you are just so very pretty.”

wow. okay he didn't expect that.

peter chocked on his saliva, his body hot all over, nearly dropping the pieces of his homework.

“baby, you can't just say things like that.” he looked at you, eyes wide and soft. and it makes you grin.

“it's the truth.” you shrugged, “you're my pretty boy.” you know you're testing his limits, but it was fun teasing peter.

peter's mind malfunctioned. he's trying to ignore you, but the way you said my pretty boy is replaying over and over in his head.

“damn it.” he quietly swore, putting down whatever left of his project and turning to you.

your eyebrows rose in a teasing manner as a smirk finds its way to your face. “what?” you innocently asked, but you know exactly what you're doing, and he knows it too.

peter chuckled as he walks to where your laying at the bed. the sound send a shiver up your spine and now you're the one who's nervous.

he leaned closer to you, you could feel his breath on your lips as you both took a moment to admire each other. peter was staring at your eyes to your nose and your soft lips, bringing his eyes to connect with yours again and you could feel your stomach doing flips.

“and you're my pretty baby.” he whispered softly before cutting off a whine that rose up your throat with his lips.

his lips were a little chapped, but it fits your perfectly. your hands move to tangle on his hair, giving it a little pull making peter groan into the kiss. he leaned back, his warm hands move to find comfort on your waist as he brings you onto his lap.

peter felt like his heart was about to burst. every single sense of his is override and all he can focus on is you. you. you.

his home.

reblog for a kiss <3

[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.

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

[ohwowimlonley]

peter just coming over to your place to fuck you rough then cuddle w you while he asks about your day lol

Peter loving backshots w you bc of the way reader ass moves lol- idk something tells me he’s an ass man ( especially tasm! Peter )

Double P having you on top and putting you in a bear hug as he thrusts

-

“Well, if Mr Stevens can’t see that you’re acing this photography, then he really shouldnt be teaching at all,” you’d say, raking your nails through his thick hair. He nudges closer to you, cheek resting against your breasts as he tracks his right hand lazily over your naked body.

“I know, I know, just wish I could get a passing grade for once,” he laments, fingers eventually dropping in between your legs, sliding through the wetness of both our your releases.

-

“God, baby, fuckin’ look at it,” it’s a whine, or Peter’s closest approximation to it. He takes your asscheeks in both his hands, pulling them apart, pushing them back together, squeezing, slapping, digging his nails in, “gonna fuck it one day, you won’t be able to walk for a week,”

“Ahh,” you sob, arching your back as he shocks you with the harshest spank yet. You’re sure your ass is red raw by now, but it doesn’t stop Peter from pulling your cheeks apart again and landing a fat glob of spit directly onto your unused hole.

-

“Right there- Peter!” It’s almost a scream, but it’s really not your fault because Peter has his arms wrapped firmly around your back, fingers stretching to the space in between your shoulder blades and using it as leverage to fuck up into you at the perfect angle, right into that soft spongy spot deep inside you that makes you dribble onto his shoulder, “oh, God!”

“Shh, sweetness, it’s okay,” he murmurs into your hair, smirking as you cry out when his pubic hair graze against your engoreged clit, “I’m right here,”

[madwcman]

tasm! Peter kissing reader any chance he gets?

a/n: thank you for requesting <3

pairing: tasm! peter x reader

peter silently wraps his arms around you and rest his head between the crook of your neck, giving your neck a small peck. peter always wants to kiss you, every chance he gets he takes it.

“what was that kiss for?” you giggle, as your boyfriend’s grip on you tightens, and he starts to sway you both.

“just wanted to kiss you.” he says softly, moving his head from your neck, his lips landing on the apple of your cheek.

“you always want to kiss me.” you move your head back to look at peter with a bright smile. “of course i do.” he turns you around so you could face and see him fully. you give peter a warm smile and wrap your arms around his neck. he moves in to give you more kisses, you deserve all the kisses in the world from him, in his opinion. if he could kiss you all day he would, so he kisses you any chance he can.

“peter!” you shout, laughing at the pampering he’s giving you, you think your boyfriend is overly sweet, and you love it. you love peter.

he stops and pulls from your face. he has a cheeky smile and pulls you in, hugging you tighter than before. “you’re too sweet, peter.” you tell him fondly. your hands going up to peters hair, playing with it softly, he loves when you play with his hair. it makes him melt.

“i’m too sweet?”

“yes, you practically spoil me.” you giggle out, your heart is all warm and you feel a little silly when your with peter. “well a sweet girl like you should be spoiled.” and he moves in to kiss you all over again.

[parkerpeter24]

HIII i am begging can you write a Peter Parker x reader one shot where peter and reader are married and have a toddler and maybe the avengers team find out PLISSSS ANS TYYYY 🫶🫶🫶

baby 🥺

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

requests are open (but i barely write stuff)

masterlist

“what is he doing on the ceiling?!” kate yelled as soon as you entered the lobby, searching for your little toddler ben. you rubbed your eyes as you approached a very baffled kate, “your child is on the ceiling! how are you so calm?!”

“it’s 7 in the morning.” you winced as you looked at ben, him giving you an excited look and extended his arm towards you, making you do the same, “come on, benny, come to mama.”

and he did so as, un-sticking himself from the wall as he perfectly landed in your arms.

your two year old was way better at this than peter when he had started out as spider-man. his hand kept getting stuck to different places and after a bunch of ripped t-shirts and a couple of haircuts, you bought him rubber gloves. however, that didn’t work either.

as your little boy nestled against your chest, you looked over to kate who still had surprise written all over her face, “he’s spider-man’s child.” you explained simply.

“but- what if he fell down?”

“oh, he wouldn’t. he’s way too smart for that, aren’t you, benny?” you booped his nose and he gave you a grin.

“yes, mommy.”

you and peter had kept your relationship secret for a couple of years, at least from peter’s superhero gang. so it didn’t come off as a surprise when the avengers found out that you two had a one year old. they were very disappointed in you two for not telling this big a thing but the second they saw ben’s cute little face and his smile, you were forgiven and everyone was happy.

when you agreed to move into the avenger’s tower, tony was more than excited. he added a bunch of toys to the huge playroom that was originally built for morgan.

you were surprised to see that thor was the most attached to your baby. he spent time with him and thursdays were reserved to thor and ben taking a tour of the city. you trusted thor, however you had only allowed this after ben turned two, which was only a few weeks ago.

whenever natasha was around, she would tell ben all kinds of stories about how she kicked bad people’s butts so that little kids could sleep peacefully at night and ben would adore those “tales” even though they were real.

“next time you find him on a ceiling, just show him a cookie, he’ll come right down.” you told kate as you patted ben’s back, gently lulling him back to sleep.

“if you say so.” kate replied, chuckling as she watched you for a minute, “you should get some more sleep too, you look tired.”

“he refused to sleep last night because tony let him have extra ice-cream.” you rolled your eyes.

you noticed ben had fallen asleep, already drooling over the material of your t-shirt as you carried him back to his crib, placing him securely under his blanket before you made your way to your own bed. your husband, peter was still fast asleep. you laid down on the bed, peter already pulling you closer as if it was a reflex. you felt his arm relax against you, his head resting close to your shoulder and soon you felt the soft caress of sleep take over.

the bedside clock showed 10:34 as time when your eyes opened again. the room was empty, peter and ben both gone. you quickly freshened up before making your way out of the room and into the main gathering area once again.

only this time you were greeted with everyone sitting around and laughing as steve held his shield on his lap with ben sitting on top of it.

“hey, babe.” peter was the first one they greeted you as he placed a kiss on your cheek and dragged you in the middle of whatever was happening.

“uh, what’s happening?” you asked, looking around.

“your child is stuck to cap’s shield.” tony said, an almost proud smile spread over his face to which steve gave him a glare.

“guess who inspired it.” natasha rolled her eyes at her two friends, however a small smile remained on her face at the little banter going on.

just then kate ran into the room, holding a cookie in her hand as she handed it to steve, “got it!”

“come on, kid.” steve said, waving around the cookie in the air in front of him. ben’s eyes lit up and steve smiled, “it’s yours if you leave the shield.”

however, cap’s efforts failed as ben reached out one hand to grab the sweet but didn’t move a bit to release his shield.

“i bribed him good.” tony shrugged as he sipped on his black coffee.

you watched the whole scene unfold, amused to say the least. you noticed peter snickering as he stood beside you. you smacked his chest lightly, “you think this is funny? go get your child.”

“and forget the spider-bike mr stark promised me? never.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

Fawn !!!! This is the cutest EVER I love summerween I’m actually trying to organize a gravity falls watch party/lake day with some of my friends for later this month haha. Can I please (if you wish) request evil gnomes with tasm!peter and "the lady over there just asked if we were a couple." "well, we did just kiss." "i know but it's still cool that we've finally been asked, don't you think?" Love you <3

omg Mae that's so cute!!! I'm jealous of your friends! and you can definitely get this prompt with peter! Thank you for requesting Mae ✶⋆.˚｡𖦹°

You're sun kissed and a little glowy as Peter pulls your seat out for you and kisses your shoulder.

Peter sits across from you and can't help but smile. You tilt your head, a few strands of hair sticking to your lip gloss. He could kiss you; you look so beautiful.

"I like seeing you like this," he says quietly, reaching for your hand and playing with your fingers.

"Like what?" You giggle when Peter kisses your fingers, completely unaware of an older woman looking over at the two of you with a fond smile on her face.

"Carefree." You and Peter had saved for this trip for months, nearly an entire year. You're in Italy for a week; the Ionian Sea is beautiful and there was so much water Peter practically had to haul you out of it and back into your hotel.

You can't help but flush, cheeks heating which only makes Peter smile at you. "I'm really happy to be here."

God you're so lovely, Peter could eat you. He settles for a quick kiss to your lips, then your jaw, right there across the table.

Peter orders for you when you go out to the veranda, and when you start making your way back to him, you see him blushing as he speaks to the older woman just beside your table.

By the time you get to them, she's leaving and your boyfriend's ears are scarlet.

"What did she want?" you ask as you sit, taking a sip of the wine he had ordered.

"The lady over there just asked if we were a couple." His voice is a little soft and it makes you smile, because for as much as he pretends, Peter is terribly shy.

"Well, we did just kiss."

He shrugs, "I know but it's still cool that we've finally been asked, don't you think?"

You nod, "Especially in a whole other country." Peter gets a hold of your hand again and studies your fingers as you tell him about the sea and how you miss it already.

He doesn't tell you about how the lady also told him about a place that sells really gorgeous rings, but it's on his mind all evening.

[stxrrkissed]

── ۶ৎ THE PERFECT MOMENT .ᐟ

꣑ꦌ tasm!peter parker x fem!reader ৴ LENGTH 373 DESCRIPTION peter uses your breasts to warm up. CONTENT just fluff. THOUGHTS was in a fluffy mood. 𝒾. mlist 𝒾𝒾. previous fic 𝒾𝒾𝒾. prompts

“READY TO GO TO SLEEP?”

You ask, walking out the bathroom after making you nearly put your hair in your bonnet, doing your night routine, something you do every morning and night. Peter is already in bed waiting for you, scrolling his phone.

When he hears your voice, he turns off the phone, placing it in the nightstand next to the bed. “Yes, can we cuddle tonight?” Peter asks, watching you get into bed. “Yes of course babe, you didn’t have to ask, we do it every night.” You answer, getting into position, allowing him to snake his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, the swell of your ass flushing against his pelvis.

“Comfortable?” you ask with a sweet voice, enjoying his warmth. “Not yet,” he quickly responds as his hands travel under your shirt and gently cups your breasts, making you jump a bit at how cold his hands are. “Peter! Your hands are cold!”

“I’m sorry but the moment would be messed up without it.”

“What?” You let out a giggle as the cold feeling slowly goes away, butterflies filling your stomach as you always love when he touches your body. “It’s just that I sleep better when I’m holding your breasts.” He replies admiringly, soft tones laced into his tone as he fully relaxes.

“Peter I love you but that might be the silliest thing you ever said to me.” You retort, trying to hold back a small laugh. “If you really loved me, you’d let me warm my hands on you.”

“I’m not stopping you, it actually feels quite nice,” you admit, knowing he now has the biggest smile on his face without needing to see him. “I enjoy moments like this.” You add on, feeling sleep overtake your body.

“Really?” Peter questions. “Yes, it makes me feel calm knowing that you’re right here next to me, I mean your job is to save people around the world but my job is to make sure you’re still breathing. It puts me at ease when you’re holding me.”

“Trust me that’ll never change. I’ll always be right next to you.” Peter informs, a smile spreads across your face before the two of you quietly drift off to sleep.

COMMENTS (if you want to be tagged in marvel fics, click here) @cherriespopsicle.

thank you for reading! © stxrrkissed 2025. all rights reserved — do not claim, copy, repost or translate.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

TOMORROW NEVER CAME- P.B PARKER

pairing: dilf! cowboy! peter parker x innocent! fem! reader

word count: 1.2k

summary: a relaxing day with peter around the farm- inspired by tomorrow never came by lana del rey:)

warnings: dry humping, mentions/indications of smut, praise kink, size kink, manhandling, pet names, daddy kink, light spanking, swearing, age gap ofc (reader is of course, of age) mainly just fluff:)

authors note: a cowboy peter fic in 2025? hell yeah! this can be read as a standalone, its not persay a "part three" but its just a drabble of a typical summers day between the two of em<3 mood board below but it is simply vibes- not what reader looks like!

"roses are in your country house/ we played guitar in your barn/ and everyday felt like sunday, and i-/ i wish we had stayed home/ and i could put on the radio/ to our favourite song"- tomorrow never came, lana del rey

-------------------------------------------------------------

The sky was clear today.

It had been cloudy the last few days, and you had been cooped up, letting the rain pass over the crops, letting Mother Nature cry her tears to heal the cracked earth. Peter had been good to you, though.

He had insisted he needed you to help around the farm, despite the rain- simply to get you out of your fathers house.

He had listened to you, late at night when the sun slithered down to hide behind the trees about your issues with him. Peter could never look at him the same, the way he treated you- the way he made you feel.

Couldn't stand to let you go back there most nights.

So when you got the courage to open up to him, he’d sit you in his lap, letting you curl up as he rocked in the rocking chair on the porchfront. Stroking your hair, holding you just a little tighter when there was a chill in the air.

He made you feel so validated, so safe and cared for in his loving arms. Like the things you were talking about were in a different lifetime- or a fairytale.

You were just with him, his glass of scotch, and faint coo of the owls in the trees.

The two of you made the most out of the rainy days you had been having for the past few days- when you were able to convince your father that yes, Peter actually did help around the farm- despite the downpour.

The help was all to a minimum, as the second he picked you up and you were out of the driveway, his truck was pulled to the side of the dirt road and his lips were on yours.

You’re givinn’ me all the help I need sweetheart. Jus’ like that, atta girl. Let daddy make you feel good- yeah? You just help and show me that pretty pussy. He’d coo from where he kneeled between your spread legs on the couch- a low fire crackling in the room adding onto the heat that pooled between your thighs.

But today, you were as free as a bird, as you snuck out of Peters bed before he even rose, leaving a little note with a jam tart you had baked when he had fallen asleep in the armchair last night- cowboy hat slumped over his eyes.

The birds chirped as you rode one of his horses- Dallia out in rolling the meadows, the sunshine bathing you by the time you got back to the stables. Peter was out- probably off with the cattle, but you knew he’d be back soon.

You wasted no time popping a tart in your mouth for yourself as you skipped through the kitchen- letting the sweet sugary taste melt on your tongue as you hummed a little song.

It was a lazy day- you knew Peter didn't need any actual “help” (by help he meant you handing him one or two things, keeping him company, tending the garden and the animals) today, so an afternoon shower was in order.

You were never not amazed how pretty his house was- considering he was always busy with the farm and was an older man who lived alone. The antique picture frames that lead up the stairs were never dusty, the flowers always fresh in their vases (thanks to you) and there were always fresh towels by the opened bathroom window.

It looked over the horses grazing field, surrounded by thick trees, their leaves rustling in the warm summer breeze. One of the things that you loved about country life was the privacy. The windows were always open, the lace curtains ticking your legs as they fluttered.

You smiled, stepping into the shower while you hummed a little tune. It was so beautiful today. It was beautiful everyday when you were here- with Peter, even in the rain.

So you had found yourself outside, yet again- in a little gingam dress that was your favourite to wear in July. It matched the colour of the apples in the orchard, and the picnic blanket that was laid out under you.

You ran your fingers though Peter's salt and peppering hair, as he lay his head on your warm thighs, sprawled out on the blanket. It was tiring, working with his aching bones and sore back- but it made moments like this even more special and important to him.

He loved to take care of you more than anything- but it was nice when you could baby him- just a little.

You bit into a fresh apple you picked from the surrounding trees, letting the juice trickle down your chin. You bent down, planting a gentle kiss to the top of Peter's head, letting your fingers slide down from his hair to his shoulders, massaging the tense, hard working muscles.

He groaned in appreciation at the sensation.

“That feel good, old man?” you teased and he nodded. “S’good. You have magic hands sweet girl.”

“So I’ve heard.” you smiled, the sexual innuendo slipping off your tongue as sweet as honey. He had told you so many times when your smaller hands were wrapped around his thick cock that they were “magic”.

You made him feel like a teenage boy again, trying to not bust in his jeans at simple touches.

“You’re so strong, and you work so hard Peter. You’re so good to me.” you praised, making him smile, his dark eyes fluttering open to stare into yours with a look of such admiration it made your heart skip a beat.

“You always take care of me.” you went on, making him blush. “And you always make me feel so good. All warm and fuzzy.” you giggled, watching as he slid his head from your lap so he could reach over, swinging you like you weighed nothing, so you straddled his lap.

“Hey that tickles!” you shrieked as he tickled your sides, making you giggle and scrunch up your nose- something he found so adorable and sexy he could hardly stand it.

“You’re such a sweet girl. Always such sweet words drippin outta that mouth, you know that?” he murmured, hands sliding under the skirt of your dress to grip your ass, giving it a good smack.

You squeaked out at the sensation, butterflies pooling down to your core as he grabbed the flesh, giving it a few more quick smacks.

“Pete-r” you felt your body heat, unconsciously grinding on the roughness of the fly of his jeans, and the bulge that was underneath them.

“Yea atta girl, wet my jeans baby. Make a little mess- fuck. Such a pretty lil thing, makin daddy feel so loved and cared for.” he hummed, his words cut off as you leaned down to kiss him, tasting of sweet Gala and lipgloss.

You moaned, his hands guiding your hips as you grinded on him, leaving little stains from your soaked through cotton panties.

“You feel- s-so good-” you whimpered out, making him smirk cockily. You always found a way to boost his ego- whether you meant to do so or not. Reminded him nothing changed with his age.

“Yea? You like that?”

And all you could do was nod as he made you feel like you were basking in heaven on earth as you tangled in the grass, shielded from the rest of the world- with the slivers of sunlight making you glow.

This felt like the true meaning of love.

This was your little place of heaven, and it was all because of the man who was under you that made it possible.