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#tasm!peter one shot
webslingingslasher · 1 year
Note
i'm a sucker for angst to fluff. what if parker's friends say some mean things ab your body but parker doesn't defend you. that night, you won't cuddle him, you won't even sleep in the same bed because you don't wanna disgust him... and peter has to make it up to you.
parker is a dunce!!! peter supremacy!
Peter had two sets of friend groups. 
The first one was the original one. Kids he grew up with, suffered through high school and flew into the freedom of college with him. The group you knew the most of, they were the closest to him and nearly the entire group became your friends too. Weekends spent smashing drinks and staying up too late before hitting up a diner for greasy burgers at four in the morning. 
Then the second group, which you did not know well, don’t know how Peter knows them and can’t fathom why Peter would entertain them. 
It’s split like this. 
With friend group A, he’s Peter.
With friend group B, he’s Parker. 
You don’t like Parker; not one bit. 
Parker can be stark, blunt, bold and cocky. 
It was the friend group, they made him believe he was one of them so sometimes he acted a little too much like them. It wasn’t ever too bad, just the stuff you know he normally wouldn’t feed into, he gorged. 
His friend, leader of the group, Nick, said it in passing. It’s not the first time you met, granted you try to spend as little time as possible with them but you also won’t give them the cold shoulder. The mutual understanding with friend group B is that you both are there for Peter’s sake, it just makes things easier. 
Nick threw his beer back, foam swirled to the top. His long arm extended to the seat next to him, his watch clicked against the chair top. 
“I’m surprised you didn’t bag someone with a better body, Parker.” A sharp wink is thrown at your boyfriend, and in response he snorted, “yeah, right.” 
It was sarcastic, you’ll give him that. But he didn’t give more, you waited for the ‘real funny, but don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.’ However, he just rubbed your shoulder and sent a small smile, almost like he was saying, ‘you know how it is.’ 
You didn’t miss the tiny curl of Nick’s lip when you shook Peter’s hand off your arm. 
If he couldn’t stand up to his friends over a shit comment then why would you let him put his hands on your body, knowing everyone thinks he could do better?
—------------------------------
Peter frowned when you pulled away from his grasp, he was going for a hug but you floated away. You were quiet on the ride back, not starting conversation but not letting it fail either. 
If Peter could describe your emotion right now it would be ‘fine.’ 
“C’mon, gimme a hug.” 
You cross your arms, “you sure you want your hands on me?” 
Peter reaches out and tries to pull one hand back with the other but his right hand breaks free and grabs you, “I can’t control them! They need you too much.” 
Sometimes it’s really, really hard to be upset with him. 
“I’m gonna take a shower,” you pull away, forcing yourself to stand up for yourself, if the situation was reversed you’d shut it down at the dinner table. Not smile sympathetically and give him an ‘oh well!’ 
“Want company?” 
Disappointment covers your features, “not really.” 
He wouldn’t stand up to defend the body he loves but he wants to be first in line to use it. 
“Oh. Okay, if you want I’ll make us some ice cream cones and set up a movie?” 
You shrug, “sure.” 
Peter knows what’s wrong but he views it as a boundary issue between his friends and him, not you. He knows what he needs to do but doesn’t want to involve you further. 
That message doubles down when you told him you would sleep on his couch tonight, he woke you up after the movie to take you to bed when you shrugged him off, “I’ll sleep here tonight,” that never happens, ever. 
“No, c’mon, I’ll carry you.” 
His hands slipped under your thigh when you rolled over, “if it wasn’t so late I’d be at home. Consider yourself lucky that I’m still here.” 
So, Peter presses a kiss to your temple with an “alright, honey. Goodnight, we can talk in the morning, okay?” 
When he walks away you mumble under your breath, “hope you dream about girls with better bodies.” He hears you, it takes everything in him to not bring you with him. 
—----------------------------------
Noise woke you up. 
The room was bright, sleeping in the living room left you exposed to nearly every window in the apartment. Peter’s room was dark and cool, if you were in there it could be well into mid morning before you rose. 
There was a blanket on you that wasn’t there last night, it’s one from Peter’s room, he keeps an extra by his bed for you. The sun peering in warmed up the room and you started to feel just a little too warm. 
You almost forgot why you were awake until you heard a cabinet shut loudly and a soft curse murmured from the kitchen. Peter was up early making breakfast, you know he feels largely guilty. It almost makes everything okay. 
It took heat swarming your face for you to pull the blanket away, the cool breeze from his ceiling fan felt really good. You yawn, then cough from a dry throat. 
“Baby?” 
You sniff, nothing more than a harsh breath, “morning.” Your voice croaks from the couch, you hear shuffling, steps get louder until you looked up at his face peering over you. 
“I slept like shit, how about you?” 
You stretch your arms over your head, “no complaints.” 
Peter recognizes you’re still mad. 
“Waffles or pancakes?” 
You grin, “french toast.” 
Peter leans over the back of the couch, his lips puckered. “Deal,” you push his chin away. “No kisses, you’re on time out.” 
He wanted to wait until after breakfast but he really can’t last that long without a kiss. 
“Okay, come here.” 
You got up and followed him, he grabbed his phone sitting on the counter and gestured to taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Peter unlocked his phone and tapped around, he handed it towards you, you looked at him confused before he wiggled it. “Take it, read it.” 
Taking his phone you looked down, it was blurry and you had to blink a few times. Peter busy with moving around the kitchen. 
A text thread between him and Nick. 
“hey man, I know you didn’t mean anything by it but you hurt some feelings by that comment tonight. From here on out no jokes on or about her, cool?” 
“Ah shit man, my bad. I didn’t mean to get you yelled at, no jokes about the lady in front of her from now on.” 
“I mean don’t joke about her, ever. It’s not cool to me, and it disrespects my girlfriend.” 
“Say less, I’ll tell the guys, no more jokes about parker’s girl.” 
“Appreciate it, man.” 
A small pout takes over your face, he texted it last night after you got home. If you can track it back it would’ve been around the time you were in the shower, unprompted he stuck up for you. 
Peter stood up for you, he had your back. 
You assumed he didn’t, but he just didn’t make a scene. He kept cool and calm until he was back at home, in regards to not embarrassing you or his friends and maybe damaging either relationship. 
You click your tongue, your boyfriend meets your eyes, he’s awaiting a response. 
“Well, now it’s hard to be mad.” 
“I will always defend your honor, sweetheart. Just because I don’t do it at that moment doesn’t mean I wont, okay? I love you and you are absolutely the hottest woman I could ever bag, alright?” 
You respond with countless kisses and cuddles, Peter needs to nearly peel you off his body so he can use the stove safely, but not one complaint utters from his lips. 
3K notes · View notes
literaila · 8 months
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Ok it's headcanon time what do you think Peter's reaction would be when him and his friend who've been bffs for years and are very comfortable with physical touch suddenly starts to pull away from him cause she saw him flirting with another girl at thier college mixer and so she starts to pull away from his physical touches cause she feel like she should finally be able to move on from him and start her college life without pining after him all the time and slowly peter starts noticing that she always give him affection when he needs it on his tough days but refuses his touch even when he remotely comes near her
🌌
just so you know
tasm!peter x fem!reader
a/n: sorry this took ages, i forgot how to write (there was a more perfect gif but tumblr hates me)
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*
“what’s going on?”
you look up again, meeting uncertain eyes with a fake sense of amusement. you know what you’re doing, and so does peter.
“what?” you tease, running your hand over plastic price tags and years of dust, staring down at ceramic mugs and tiny scentless candles.
peter puts his hand on your back, walking with you, and as a subtle and graceful friend, you quickly move away from him, pretending to kneel down and look at a set of plates.
“that. this—this thing that your doing.” peter points to you like it’s a physical entity. some thing you’re holding just to hurt him. a handful of tricks.
“looking at cat mugs?” you ask, eyebrow raised.
“avoiding me. pretending like you haven’t been evading every question i’ve asked.”
you frown, but don’t look up. you finger a curved handle, swallow and let the lies slip from your mouth without any effort. if you’ve been distant from peter recently, it’s nothing but an accident. a practiced maneuver. “i’m not avoiding you.”
“you haven’t looked at me all day.”
“i’m looking at you right now, peter.” and so you do.
peter smiles, laughs a bit, his chest rising and falling, but it’s frustrated. he runs a hand through his hair, shakes his head. and then he bends down and wraps his hand around your arm, pulling you up before you get the chance to stop him.
and you would stop him, you know, if he hadn’t already pointed out that you’ve been doing it all day. for at least the past week.
his touch burns, like a singe on your already red wounds. and even though he’s smiling at you, being as gentle as peter always is, you can see your tension, can feel your own hesitation in his skin.
“did i hurt you, or something?” he asks, biting the inside of his cheek. “i know we—well, we’re not um, that hesitant with being close, touching and stuff, but if i did something accidentally—“
“you haven’t hurt me, peter.”
“okay… then what’s going on? do you need to discuss boundaries with me?”
“what?” you laugh.
“i’m not trying to make you uncomfortable,” peter says, softly, like you’re some breakable thing. “i just want to make sure that you—that we’re okay.”
“of course we’re okay, peter.”
and then, that’s not quite true.
when you look into peters eyes, it’s not an auburn storm that you see. it’s not even yourself being reflected in his irises.
it’s flashing lights and music that made your head pound. there’s sticky floors and too many people—so much air, and too much breathing in such a small room. you see people laughing and singing, hands and bodies intertwined like it would hurt to be apart.
and it’s all sort of beautiful and disturbing, all sort of a lot—but then, there’s familiar hands, running up an unfamiliar body. peter had asked you to dance, but you knew it was only so he could laugh because he knew that you couldn’t.
when you look into peters eyes you see her. and there’s such a strong fire ignited in your chest, such a vehement jealousy that you have to look away.
you have to physically pull yourself away from him just so you don’t feel like that. just so you can tell yourself that it’s not fair.
“we’re fine,” you repeat, softly, and you look away from him. turn away, so you can block yourself away from his all too knowing stare.
you don’t pull away from his hands, but god do you want to. you want to take a break from him, a break from all of this until you can promise yourself that you just don’t care.
that you don’t crave his side stepping and hand holding and resting your head on his shoulder or leaning against his chest. that isn’t fair.
you clear your throat; you can’t lie to him, and it’s not like peter is going to let you. “it’s just…” you start, stepping towards him and then away. “i don’t know if lindsay would be comfortable with it.”
peters face flinched, he tilts his head at you. “lindsay?”
“i don’t want to get in the way of anything…”
“get in the way of what?”
you meet his eyes and laugh. “c’mon, peter. you’re not as discreet as you think you are. there was that night at the club and then the “study” dates you’ve been going on.”
“that wasn’t anything—“ peter is quick to get out, but you shove his shoulder, pretending your laughter isn’t painful.
“save it, loverboy. if you want to hold someone’s hand,” you tease, “it should be your girlfriends. i was surprised you even asked me to come gift hunting today.”
peter swallows. “she’s not my girlfriend.”
you nod, turning away from him. “yeah, okay.”
“i’m serious. we’ve been working on a project for bio-chem, that’s all.”
“i’m not blind, peter.”
he walks when you do, leaning his head down until he can see your face. “don’t you think i’d tell you if started dating someone and it was serious?”
“um, no, not really. we don’t ever talk about that stuff.”
“yeah, because you get weird whenever i bring it up.”
“i don’t get weird—“ you say, turning to glare at him. he’s closer than you expected though so whatever you were about to say falls into the air. it blows away with the feel of peters breath on your cheek.
“i would tell you,” he says, “if i had a girlfriend.”
you lean away from him, taking a deep breath in. “okay, peter. but the point still stands. you shouldn’t be holding hands with me while you’ve got a girl who’s waiting for you to get your head out of your ass. or stop lying. whatever.”
“i don’t want to hold her hand.”
peters voice is soft, and his hand is gentle as it lands on your waist. he pulls you to him, like he’s sure that you’re going to run away.
“well now i know why you don’t have a girlfriend.”
peter chuckles, staring down at you with burning eyes. and this time, when you look at him, you see only a secret catching fire. “i don’t have a girlfriend because i want to hold your hand,” he whispers, a finger brushing up against your jaw.
“o-oh.”
you stare at him, unsure what else to say.
what other announcements need to be made, what other proclamations you should probably get in writing.
peter smiles again, wider. he lets go of you and turns so his shoulder is to you. and then he grabs your hand.
“just so you know,” he says, smirk far too much.
just so you know.
*
2K notes · View notes
venus616 · 1 year
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Hi!! Requesting a spicy tasm!peter fic where he puts his photography skills to use if ya know what I mean 🔥🫶🏽
his muse; {p.p.}
Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)
Summary: peter puts his photography skills to use when you're naked
Warnings: established relationship, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex (blowjob), praise kink (if you squint), photos during sex, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: hi. i love this trope So Much… like more than you will ever know, but bc i love it and i’ve seen it done multiple times with peter i was very scared to even do anything with it sjnksks but here is my finished product, i hope you like it~
(Also- it is my gift to anyone who actually likes reading my content bc ive been gone for a While and will be gone for another 2-3 weeks bc finals are not fun! so i hope this is good, enjoy!)
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You’re putting away your shared laundry when you hear a loud noise on your window sill. You don’t even flinch this far into your relationship and only shake your head, separating your clothes from his. The window opens letting in a cool breeze and Peter’s book bag hits the ground before he gets inside. 
It's only then you look and give his body, clad in his suit, a scan and smile. “You okay?” You ask. The sun already set and the crisp winter air started to fill the room. 
He scoffs before shutting the window. You turn your body around from the basket in front of you to see Peter shaking his head while taking his camera out of his bag.
The professional camera Peter spent a year saving up for when he was 18 was sat next to your much less efficient Polaroid camera. On it, there was a photo of you two celebrating your anniversary together recently. The flash showing you kissing Peter on the cheek, he’s blushing at the attention and eyes closed from the flash. 
Peter smiled at the memory before he continued speaking. 
“Why do people think it’s okay to commit crime when I’m just getting off my shift?” He sighed before setting down his bag next to your bed.
“They’re so inconsiderate,” You pout playfully while folding his clothes into his reserved drawer at your place.
Peter looks up from unpacking and focuses on your ass poking up from your position. You feel his eyes on you as your t-shirt hangs loosely on your body, and the hair on your legs prick up from the cold in the room.
Peter takes off his mask revealing his disheveled hair and takes in the sight of you like it’s his last.
Your lacy underwear decorating the plump flesh of your butt, reminding Peter of how quickly he had to leave this morning before getting to appreciate for bandaging him up last night.
His eyes continued to scan up, seeing the old t-shirt frame your shape, admiring it as if he had x-ray vision.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Peter is brought out of his thoughts hearing your soft voice, taunting him for his staring problem.
“Don’t tempt me,” Peter quips back. He shakes his head before tossing his mask in your empty hamper. Sitting on your bed and bending over to remove his boots, his ears don’t miss your footsteps as you saunter to him.
You place your feet in between his while he looks back up to you, removing the rest of his suit. 
“It’s never stopped you before,” You cross your arms while he slips out of his suit, leaving his web shooters on. The suit is strewn across the floor and your eyes focus on Peter’s body. 
No matter how beat up he was, Peter remains to be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You ran your hands over his, now, yellow ribs. Compared to the purple constellation he had yesterday, you were grateful for his superhuman healing. 
He had a nasty fall yesterday, left with some scars and bruising, but thankfully this time you didn’t have to stitch him up. 
You even notice the scratch on his arm is almost gone but Peter liked wearing your special bandaids. He likes giving you a reason to buy more cartoon ones for him. 
Peter watches your eyes carefully scan his body for anything else and adores you for it. Still, he hates making you worry.
“You weren’t naked before.”
A smile creeps up on your face, a giggle disguised as a scoff when you answer: “I’m not naked.”
You don’t realize you set yourself up for Peter’s response until he smirks. His hands snake up underneath your shirt to toy with your nipples, already hard because of the cold air lingering in the room. 
A hiss escapes your mouth at feeling his larger, colder hands grip your boobs. Peter slightly grins at his effect on you. He pulls at the bottom of your shirt before raising it up your body. You oblige, pulling it over your head to toss it across your room.
His face lit up at your frontal nudity, hands placed on either side of your hips tugging at your underwear. 
“Let’s change that.” 
You roll your eyes at his response, but not without a smile plastered on your face. You could feel the heat pooling in between your thighs and the excitement in your stomach. 
“What position should I be in?” You shudder under his callus fingers. Peter lightly furrows his eyebrows when you turn, gesturing to your polaroid camera from your bedside table. 
His face relaxes when he registers what you guys are doing, not realizing how serious you were being. 
Your eyes flicker up and down his body when you turn to face him, noticing his erection bulging out of his briefs. Leaning down you use your hand to palm him through the fabric, feeling his cock pulsate in your hand.
“On your knees,” You whip your head up when Peter says that, his hands still roaming around your body. 
You quirk your eyebrow up in response. Pressing your forehead and nose to his, you plant a kiss onto his lips. Your hands are now on either of his thighs, sinking lower onto the ground as the kiss deepens. 
Before you can fully get down, you hear a light thwip and break the kiss. 
You see Peter’s wrist is flicked out with his web shooters activated, latched on to your polaroid camera. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes before he pulls it into his hands.
Resting on your knees, you’re before him with your fingers tracing the waistband of his boxers. You carefully watch for his reactions, but he’s refamiliarizing himself with your flimsy camera you got in your teenage years as a novelty.
You cross your arms on his legs and look up at him, the camera points at you and all you can focus on is his wide smile behind the camera. “Let’s see if I still know how this works,” Peter jokes.  
You repose with both your hands on your knees, pushing your breasts out in between your arms. You didn’t realize they were hardly the focus of the photo (but still included, Peter was only human after all). 
The photo snaps and you remember you have to get used to the flash again. Blinking a few times to get used to the discomfort, the photo prints out and Peter seems pleased with himself already. 
“It hasn’t even developed yet,” You taunt, you resume palming him as you assume that was the extent of his practice shots. 
Peter shrugs while shaking the photo as gently as possible. “Hey, who’s the photographer here? I know a good subject when I see it,” He nudges you. 
When the photo barely develops, he shows you and you see yourself: half naked on your knees with your face fully in the photo. You were surprised he included that much of your face, and managed to catch you looking as confident as you could. But it was easy when Peter was behind the camera, he never fails to make you feel like his only muse. 
You blush and look away from the photo as you continue to massage him. Peter’s breath hitches at the rate at which you go at, and you smirk to yourself. 
No matter how much control Peter took in bed, he wasn’t afraid to show you how quickly he’d fold for you. It was one of the many things you appreciated about him. Another one was just how vocal he was, his whimpers before you even got to touch him were making your underwear dampen. 
When his dick starts twitching, you pull his boxers down, his cock slaps up to his stomach while he watches your movements. Locking eyes with him, you wrap both your hands around his shaft before slowly jacking him off. 
You’re mesmerized by the way his body is flexed under your touch, you almost don’t hear what he says. 
“Your mouth,” He breathes out. 
You sit up higher on your knees and kiss up his happy trail, lingering when you get closer to his cock. You hear his groan and look up, meeting his eyes.
You raise your eyebrows. “My mouth, what?” 
Your lips quirk up again, teasing him. “Use your words.” 
He rolls his eyes in response but you shake your head.  “I can stop,” You remind him. 
His brown eyes almost bulge out his head when you say that, wrapping his own hand over yours to stop your movements from pausing. He leans over to get closer to your face, the scent of you surrounding him. Peter’s face softens at your smugness. 
“Baby,” He starts. You wait to listen to how he pleads for you to stay while he leads your hands.  
“I need that pretty mouth of yours to suck my cock,” He gasps out and removes his hand when you loosen your wrist in response. Your eyes soften at the praise and Peter mentally celebrates when he leans back to his original position. 
You reposition yourself as well, with your neck getting to work as you lick a stripe underneath the shaft of his cock. Peter sharply inhales at the feeling and brings his head back up. 
You lock eyes with him when you feel the jolt in his body and open your mouth in an ‘O’ shape around the head of his cock. 
Relaxing your throat, you lower your head on his length and feel the tip of his cock hitting your uvula before you begin bobbing your head. 
Caught off guard, you could taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue now. You gagged a bit and popped off him to lick it off in the most obscene way you could think of. 
Peter mutters, “Just like that.” and you look up. 
Forgetting he had a camera, the shutter went off to capture your tongue on the underside of his wet tip. 
You collect more saliva in your mouth while you run your hand up and down his shaft. Feeling prepared enough, you go back down on him with the drool dripping on his cock on your hands. 
Peter went crazy at the heat of your mouth and the sight of your lips around him. The only thought he had was to get the camera out again to keep this moment forever.
Getting slack jawed at this, he tangles his hands in your hair but doesn’t change your pace. He only starts pushing it out of your face as it gets in the way. 
You look up at him and see Peter pointing the camera at you as you have half his cock in your mouth. The first shot is taken, and he tries to not move too much as the photo prints out immediately.  He releases a few breathy moans at the pace you're going at while he places the new photo on the side. 
Peter silently gestures to you to get him out your mouth so you release him with a pop, flipping your hair to the side as you continue to jack him off.
“That’s good,” He mutters, when he places the camera at his eye before snapping a new photo. 
“I probably look insane,” You grumble, already feeling self conscious at how messy your hair looks, coupled alongside the drool and precum at your mouth. 
Peter shakes his head and pulls you in closer by your waist and you yelp, finding yourself now pinned under him on the bed. 
“Never,” He shakes his head, attaching his mouth to your tit as he pulls your underwear off. You immediately moan at his aggression on your sensitive nipples and he chuckles against your skin when he feels you flinch. 
Peter’s calloused hands find your clit and start massaging it, and you throw your head back in pleasure when he finds his rhythm. 
You feel a twinge of disappointment when he removes his mouth from your tits but you look up to see the camera watching you, and a shutter going off before you are even ready.
“Pete,” You warn. Your sternness doesn’t last when he slips in a finger in your embarrassingly wet cunt. You almost mewl at how full he makes you with just one finger. 
“You looked so pretty moaning like that,” Peter explains while his finger curls into you. He knew what he was doing when he smiled again, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.
Your annoyance was no match for his desperation as you eventually gave in. One of his hands cupped your cheek while his lips were frantic on yours. He’s greedy for you, almost lapping up your tongue with his own before he pulls away. 
“Just let go, forget the camera is even there,” He mumbles in your neck when you gasp at the absence of his lips. 
He slips in another finger and thrusts faster, making you nod mindlessly as you surrender all control.You grip onto his bicep as he pumps in and out of you, begging him for more friction. You can hear how wet you were, and while you were embarrassed, Peter relished in it. 
“Can you take a third for me baby?” He asks in a low voice as he sits up on the bed in between your legs. You nod vigorously but he quickly removes both fingers.
You open your mouth to complain but instead yelp out when Peter pulls both your legs closer to his chest as he kneels on the mattress. He set aside the camera briefly. 
“Yeah?” He searches for an answer.
“Yes,” You grunt out, already desperate for much more than his fingers. 
He massages your heat with his fingers again before he inserts three fingers in, jolting your body to sit up. You let out an obscene moan and couldn’t help but to massage your clit while he fucks you with his fingers. 
One hand being in competition with Peter’s while the other massages your boobs, you’re almost too dazed to notice the shutter then went off while you were closer to an orgasm.
“Fucking incredible,” Peter breathes out before putting the camera with the new photo down, and leans down to kiss you. His pace never falters, making you whimper against his lips. 
“I’m about to cum,” You announce shakily. Peter swallows your pleas with a kiss and just curls his fingers against your g-spot faster. You feel that familiar build up in the pit of your stomach and the pace of your clenching pick up. 
“Cum all over my fingers baby,” He answers, and you immediately let go. You hold Peter closer as you cum, heaving underneath him like you’re in heat. Your body Peter continues to finger you but only because he loves the way you suction around him. 
He still lets you come down from your high, kissing you through it and massaging your breasts with his free hand during. When your breathing slows down, he sits back up and removes his fingers from you. 
“Need you inside of me,” You remind him as you reach over to palm his already hard cock against his stomach.
“Gonna let me cum inside of you?” He asks, holding his cock in his hand already glistening with your wetness. He readjusts to line himself up to your pussy awaiting your answer.
You cock your head with your arms supporting your body from the bed. “I’ll let you cum wherever you want,” You say. 
Peter grunts at your answer before inserting himself into your entrance, and immediately throws his head back at the feeling, your warmth and wetness engulfing him. 
“So fucking tight,” He comments, and you silently agree as you feel yourself stretching out on him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched around him. 
“Fuck,” you moan out as he finds a comfortable pace for the both of you. 
Or that’s what you thought. 
You hear a shutter from your camera and realize he took a picture (or two) of you in this position beneath him, moaning out for him flat on the bed with his cock inside of you. 
You didn’t have time to care as when he got his shots he immediately started to rock into you, and you felt the strength of him against your thighs before he picked up the pace. 
You watch him thrust into you and slowly lose himself above you.
“I love the way you feel around me,” He pants out, closing in on your body with his forearms framing your face. You nod as the bed squeaks and your hands roam his body, stopping at his shoulders and the nape of his neck. 
Peter obliges to your physical demands and dips down to suck on your neck, causing you to whimper as your body continues to jolt from his thrusts. His soft brown hair tickles your skin as his teeth chew at the sensitive skin in your neck. You don’t know whether to giggle or moan, but you’re vocal regardless. 
“Go faster,” You whine, becoming impatient with him. 
“I’m not gonna last if I go faster,” He growls against your skin, sending vibrations down your spine. He thrusted slower, bringing his hand down to the back of your knee to bend it closer to your body. You felt him hitting your g-spot repeatedly that you knew you weren’t going to last any longer like that. 
“I don’t care,” You cry out. Peter scoffs in your neck as if to say a begrudging ‘Fine.’ and kisses you on the cheek before kneeling back up. He’s already twitching inside you before he begins thrusting again. You almost forget what you got yourself into until you feel his balls slap against your cunt repeatedly. 
A string of curses escape both your mouths, yours because he’s just so big and you can feel the tension build up in your stomach again. Peter’s cusses are because you just won’t stop clenching around him in response, he feels like he might burst the next time you tighten around him. 
“Fuck, fuck fuck,” He mutters before spilling into you. 
You go slack jawed at the feeling of him cumming inside of you. It feels hot between your thighs, in between the burning feeling of his hard thighs slapping against your softer ones, and feeling him twitch and coat your insides and the outside of your cunt with his load. 
You cry out as he almost slips out of you, but realize he’s gonna take another picture. You’re not sure what to do, or what exactly he’s capturing but you decide to listen to his earlier advice and let it happen. Peter places the camera on his eye while his cock almost goes soft half away inside of you, and you can feel him rubbing his cum around your thighs and up your hips. 
He mutters another curse, before snapping the picture. You close your eyes and your legs when you decide that that was the last photo and miss how Peter compiles all of them on your bedside table. 
Eventually, you look up and see him pulling back up his underwear and beckoning you to see the photos. When you get up and see 6 photos lined up from tonight. 
One of you on your knees, your breasts protruding and almost being the main focus of the photo if it wasn't for your face. You want to laugh at how excited your eyes looked but you know it was only because of who was behind the camera. 
Two more during and after the blowjob, one of you in the middle taking Peter in your mouth and giving the camera (but really, Peter) siren eyes. The other was you slightly disheveled, but Peter swore you were the prettiest girl in the world with drool around your mouth.
A third of you being fingered, your head is thrown back in unfiltered pleasure from his fingers, your breasts sitting high on your chest as you’re on your back and your nipples were glistening in the photo due to the suckling that happened off camera. While scanning this photo, you realize that being caught in the moment wasn’t such a bad thing and Peter is silently celebrating he caught your O face in action. 
The fourth was similar but you had more control over your pleasure as you’re on camera massaging your breasts and hand on your pussy. You feel like a vixen with the way you’re fondling yourself, Peter silently agrees as he knows you look like one. 
Fifth and sixth photo show the before and after of Peter fucking you senseless. Fifth with your body being still underneath his, and the photo displaying that exhilarating feeling you both get when your bodies meet in the first thrust. And the sixth photo when you’re both comfortable enough to come down from your high together. The sticky, white cum is slayed over your sopping, wet pussy and Peter’s fingers and cock in the frame to remind you who fucks you like this. 
“Do you like these? I can burn them away if you don’t,” Peter runs his hands through his hair nervously, not trying to make you uncomfortable if the bit had gone too far. 
You only shake your head with a laugh bubbling in your throat at his consideration and hug his much taller frame from behind. It felt good to rest your head on his back, while his arms engulf yours from the front. 
“I love them, I love you,” You speak low but loudly enough so he can hear, and feel, your words. 
“Which ones do you want to keep?” He asks. 
You know it’s out of courtesy, just one of those things you two got used to asking each other after taking pictures on this camera. You kept the silly anniversary photo while he kept the very nice one he took of you. 
“It’s all for you,” You answer. Peter sputters quickly, turning back around to see your face when you say it, you only nod in full seriousness. 
He leans down to kiss your cheek as a thank you and you only smile back. 
“I think you’d get more use out of it than me,” You add with a tinge of humor. Peter only plays it off with another suggestion while hugging you from the front. His arms wrap around your shoulders while you rest your head in the crook of his neck. 
“You know what though?” He asks, trailing his hands down to your naked hips, stopping to cup the round of your ass. 
“What?” You mutter in his hold, already feeling your body heat up at the thought of round 2. 
Peter smirks before snaking one of his hands to your pussy. Knowing that you’re about to start throbbing, at the thought of him. You gasp before he speaks and he chuckles while he proposes his new idea. 
“I think it’s only fair if we make a movie now.”
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withahappyrefrain · 10 months
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I wish you would write a fic where... College!Tasm!Peter gets reaallyyy jealous at Reader talking to her ex bf and fucks her on his bed until she’s a bumbling mess 🫣
I think it's time for blonde!Peter to come back
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It was stupid. Absolutely ridiculous.
You were barely engaged in the conversation, more focused on the condensation forming on your red solo cup than what your ex had to say.
The interaction shouldn't have bothered him. You were his. Hell, you were even wearing his snapback.
And yet, his blood still boiled at the sight. His hands still balled up into fists. Wade joked that he could steam coming out of Peter's ears.
The dickbag was trying to flirt. Key word was try.
It was awkward as hell, clearly trying to evoke the 'oh remember how much fun we had, minus the part where I ghosted you and refused to eat you out because I'm a little bitch?' card. Every step he took towards you, you'd take a step away. With your arms crossed and the way your eyes focused on anything other than him, it should have been obvious you weren't interested.
And yet, the fucker still had the audacity to put his hand on your shoulder and squeeze it.
Peter didn't have to wait for you to send him the look. He was over there immediately, arm wrapped around your waist.
"She's busy," was all Peter curtly said, before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.
Despite your shrieks, you didn't mind it.
Nor did you mind when he brought you to his bedroom.
You especially didn't mind when he had you on your back, knees pressed to your chest as he thrust into you.
"You look so good underneath me babe," He grunted, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he watched your body wither from his touch.
"Y-yeah," his touch was overwhelming, your body reeling from your previous orgasms.
Peter simply smirked, his fingers trailing down to right above where your bodies connected.
Jolts of pleasure sparked throughout your body as his long fingers drew circles on your clit. The band in your stomach kept getting tighter and tighter with each thrust. His teeth sink into your exposed collarbone, eliciting a gasp from your lips.
Only he got to see you like this, back arched with your head thrown back in pleasure. Only he got to make you feel like this, causing your cunt to clench and spasm in pleasure around his cock.
No one else.
"You gonna come again baby? Let me hear it. Let them all hear how much you love my cock."
Normally his dirty words would fluster you. Your cheeks still burn, but this time they're intensifying the ache between your legs, fueling your need to be consumed by him and only him.
What could best be described as a broken wail fell from your lips. In reality, it was doubtful that those in the hallway could hear you over the blaring music. But the idea that maybe they could hear you, could hear the bed frame slam against the wall, could hear the grunts Peter was letting out as you fell apart around his cock, fueled a deeper desire in you two.
Your hands weakly grabbed his bleached hair, making a feeble attempt to tug on the thick locks.
"Don't worry baby, not done with ya. Fuck no," Peter's chuckle was dry, his body trying to hold on, trying to stall off his own release, "You're gonna come again. Whatcha think about that? Ya wanna fall apart on my cock again?"
A whine fell from your lips. Sensitivity surged through your body, mixing with the euphoric pleasure.
"I......I, Peter I-" what were you even asking for?
"Aw, is my baby already fucked dumb from my cock? You're so smart, until my cock is inside ya. Can't focus on anything else can ya?"
"Peter....want...." Normally you were so good at multitasking. But with the way his cock was thrusting in and out of your soaked entrance, the idea of being able to focus on anything other than the sensation between your legs seemed next to impossible.
"C'mon baby," His breath is hot against your ear, "Use ya words."
A feeble moan fell from your lips as you shook your head. It was too much, but somehow also not enough.
What did you want? The words were on the tip of your tongue, tricking you into thinking you could express them, only to run away as soon as Peter's cock brushed against that one spot that made you see stars behind your eyelids.
"C'mon, use your words," His speed increases, his hands now grabbing the flesh of your hips as he drives into you, "What. Do. You. Want?"
Each word is emphasized with a pointed thrust. His honeyed eyes are overtaken with lust, irises overblown by a pure black. The scent of cinnamon is overwhelming your nostrils as his stubbled jawline brushes against yours.
It's only when you feel his cock twitch inside of you that you find the words, now driven by a red hot burning need.
"Want your cum! Want your cum inside me, please, want it so bad, wanna be filled with you, want you to fill me up, please Peter!"
His thrusts slow down, which you think is done to tease. In reality, Peter knows if he doesn't, he'll come immediately. And he wants to draw this out as long as possible. Wants people to notice that you and him have been gone for quite some time.
Peter's imagining your stupid ex still lingering around. Dumbass was probably wondering how you two weren't done yet, given the man's notorious record for the quickest, saddest sex ever.
"Peter-"
"I got ya baby," he leaned down, hovering over your body as he pulled your thighs to his hips. He was now (somehow) deeper inside of you, hips rutting into yours.
"Gonna fill you up real good. Make you mine." You can only whine at his words, your body overstimulated from the immense pleasure.
His lips swallowed your moans. You didn't even need to look, you could feel that smirk radiating off of him. A deep groan fell from his lips when he felt your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer.
Between the bass from the outside music vibrating the floor to the smell of cinnamon that always engulfed Peter, you felt completely at bliss, content for him to continue to use you until his own release.
With one final tug on his hair, Peter's hips stuttered before coming inside of you. What were once moans and wood slamming filling the room were now heavy pants as you both tried to catch your breath.
"That was...wow."
Peter lifted his head up, a boyish grin overtaking gus face, "Was? Who said we were done?"
"Peter....you already..." You froze upon realizing he was still hard. Still inside of you.
"Perks of a radioactive spider bite. I'm far from done with you babygirl."
You were in for a long night.
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asterias-record-shop · 11 months
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♫ 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡… TASM!Peter Parker with the bingo prompt ‘himbo’?
alright, so the thing is I feel like peter is really book smart but he is so oblivious otherwise, like if someone flirts with him it goes completely over his head. so reader has been his best friend for years and recently has been trying to drop hints that she likes him, and eventually she gets fed up of him being so oblivious that she just kisses him and he gets all whiney and then they do the devils tango (i am so sorry i’m really awkward when requesting 😭) but could there also be a size and praise kink, as well as an oral fixation? (if you don’t feel comfy pls delete this!!)
i hope u have a good day/night 💕
—𓆩[my beautiful idiot]𓆪—
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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nvm anon honey i couldn't sleep without posting this, i hope you enjoy it!!!
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - TASM! Peter Parker x Best Friend! Fem! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.7K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Peter have been best friends for what seemed like eternity, and has been in love with you for what seemed like forever, but he’s not going to give up — no matter how much it seems like you don’t like him back. The kid you babysit though that is way too old to be babysat disagrees though, and tries to show him how much you were in love with him too.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - crossover time|| heavily inspired by this interview/edit with Will Poulter (love him so much) || cursing & foul language || mentions of violence || Peter gets hurt || whiny Peter is best Peter || smut warnings include oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, riding, praise, size kink, breeding kink, oral fixation, possessiveness, marking kink, biting, hickies, possibly more?
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Miles was a helpless bystander between the two of you. It never worked out, not whenever Peter was too stupidly in love with you he never saw the hints that you dropped.
“Peter, I’m telling you, she’s in love with you!” Miles wanted to strangle the other Spider-Man, very very violently.
“I don’t… I don’t think she is,” Peter mumbles, a pout on his lips as he swirled pasta around his fork, one that you often made because it was his favorite. Was that not hint enough? You knew his favorite fucking pasta! “I don’t think I’m her type.”
“Who’s type?” You walked into the living room, plate in hand full of the cream based pasta you made on the side.
“Yours! Your type!” Miles grins. “Your type.”
“My type?” You hummed, thinking as you tap your chin. “My type… would be smart. Handsome, funny. Nerdy,” you look over at Peter who was still pouting. “Loves pasta.”
Miles slurps up some of the noodles, nodding. “I wonder who that could be!”
“Yeah, I wonder,” Peter mumbles, face falling as he scooped pasta into his mouth. “I wonder.”
“Really? In this room?!” Miles yells, moving his hands to gesture around the apartment. “I wonder?!”
Peter looked around, eyes narrowing. “You like Miles?”
How the fuck could he be so stupid?
“That’s it! I’m done!” Miles stood, looking at you. “He’s hopeless! Completely and utterly hopeless!”
You sigh, standing up too. “I could’ve told you that.”
You go around the couch, taking Peter’s finished plate of food as his face scrunches. “Who’s hopeless?”
“Oh baby,” you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek. He didn’t think much of it, you did kiss him on the cheek often. “You are. You’re such a himbo.”
“A what? What’s a himbo?”
“It’s like… a beautiful idiot,” you press another kiss to his cheek, pulling back his chestnut hair from his face. “You’re my beautiful idiot.”
He pours as you walk away, Miles shouting out a goodbye as you finish your food and start cleaning up the dishes.
He didn’t want to be your ‘beautiful idiot’ — he wanted to be yours, overall and absolutely, he wanted to tick every box you ever wanted, he wanted to be yours. If he could, he’d want you to mark him as yours for forever and eternity, he just wanted you. He wanted a mark on him that said you owned him, just like you owned his heart for what seemed like forever.
“Peter? Don’t you have to go on patrol?” You yell out, snapping Peter out of his thoughts.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m going!” He goes into your room because he basically lived with you at this point, grabbing his suit and getting dressed with the door open.
“Peter?” You’re standing at the doorway, arms crossed as he stumbled into his suit, trying his best not to fall on his face. “Miles’ parents invited us over for dinner. I told them yes, you promise not to be late?”
“Yeah, I promise,” he grunted breathlessly as he quickly finished putting on his suit, looking around. “Where’s my mask?”
“Peter,” you say again, more stern this time as you walk over, bending down to pick up something from the ground. He froze when you stood in front of him, fixing his suit before handing him the mask. “Promise me you won’t be late.”
He smiled down at you, wide and his honey brown eyes shining. “I promise. Do I dress nice or casual?”
“Nicer than casual,” you say with a sigh, your hands rubbing against his chest to flatten out the suit, thinking about the fact he wore nothing underneath it. “I’m going to go over there early to help Rio cook, but I need you there by seven. Did you hear that? By seven. Dinner starts at seven-thirty, but I need you there by seven.”
He smiled, leaning down teasingly. “Yes ma’am. Whatever you say, I’ll be there by seven.”
You sigh, a smile on your face as you pat his chest. “Be safe, and take care of Miles if he tags along, okay?”
“I will.”
You both stay there for a few seconds, his eyes staring at your lips as you worriedly push your hands through his hair. You did it often, so much so that it became something you didn’t have to think about doing, or it was something you did when you were nervous.
What you both did were couple things, why weren’t you together? It was because Peter was too much of a beautiful idiot to know otherwise.
“Promise me you’ll be safe, and protect Miles if he goes. Don’t eat on your patrol, Rio is making the best food ever. And you have to be there by seven.”
“I promise,” he pushed your hair back behind your ear, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at seven.”
“By seven!” You yell as he jumps out the window, sighing with a smile. “I swear, if you weren’t hot I would’ve stopped trying by now.”
It was seven-ten. Seven-fucking-ten. You helped Rio make arroz con gandules while she took care of the main course - chicken con sofrito - and she had also tasked you in making a grilled salsa. You were smashing it inside of the molcajete, the grinding and the scratching making Miles and his father wince.
“Y/N, honey do you want me to uhm… take over… that?” Jefferson asks as he comes closer to you.
“Nope,” you say as Rio dipped her fingers into the salsa and coughing. “Oh no, is it bad?”
“N-No,” she cleared her throat, coughing. “Just spicy, very spicy. Are you mad, honey?”
“You have no fucking clue,” you basically growled as Miles and Jefferson slowly stepped back.
“You have any clue where this kid is?” Jefferson whispers to Miles, looking over. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat that salsa.”
“I-I’ll find him,” Miles says, nodding. “Just… distract them.”
First, he checked your apartment. He looked around, searching for anything that would show Peter was home, and when he found nothing — it was to the streets he went. He changed quickly, already swinging out the window to find the beautiful idiot. It didn’t take him long, quickly going to their favorite spot and finding him lounging, snoring extremely loudly.
“Peter! Peter, what the hell are you doing?!” Miles slapped Peter through the mask, gasping when he saw the gashes and lacerations all over his body. “Holy shit, Peter!”
He snapped up, gasping as he looked around. “What time is it?”
“Like seven-thirty already dude!” He quickly looks around. “What happened?!”
“I was helping a bank robbery, got dammit, Y/N is going to kill me!” He tries to stand, groaning loudly as he holds his side.
“Stop moving! Stop! Y/N taught me how to stitch people up, just lay down!” Miles ordered the older Spider-Man, forcing him to lay back as he grabbed the medical supplies.
“There’s no point, they’ll heal soon enough, I need to get home. Y/N is going to kill me!” He quickly stood, the gashes already getting smaller and less deep. “Let’s go!”
Miles groans. “Am I the babysitter or you?!”
He swung after him, Peter quickly swinging into your room and looking through the dresser that held his clothes. “Oh, come on! Y/N moved my clothes around.”
“Y/N does your laundry?” Miles asks, groaning. “Do you not how in love with you she is?!”
“We switch on laundry duty! It was her weekend so I cooked,” he grabbed a button down, groaning. “Thank fuck she washed my favorite.”
He grabs some new underwear from the drawer, smiles face palming as he rushes to the restroom to get changed. “You're going to bleed through that!”
“No I’m not!” He yelled back, walking out in his new clothes. “I covered the stuff with gauzes.”
“Okay, go upstairs, I’m going to swing up to my room and change, alright?”
He nodded. “Right.”
They both went to Miles’ apartment in different ways, Peter knocking on the door and when it swung open, he smiled at you. You gasped when you saw his gashed face, quickly reaching up. “What happened?!”
“Bank robbery, I passed out on top of a building. So sorry I’m late.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands settling on your waist. “Dinner going well?”
“I-I made a salsa, are you okay?” Your hands quickly cup his face, twisting and turning as you sigh. “Rio’s going to freak! God fuck, Peter!”
He laughed. “You have no reason to worry, honey. I’ll just say I… ran into a tree.”
“A tree?!”
“Look at that! Peter’s here!” Miles yelled, running forward. “Let’s eat!”
When everyone sat down at the dinner table, it was obvious something was a little off. “I uhm… how is work, Y/N?”
You clear your throat, nodding at Rio’s question. “It’s going really well! I’m really happy there.”
“Peter, you moved in with Y/N already?” Jefferson asked, scooping food into his mouth. “It’s about time.”
“What do you mean?” Peter paused his actions of stuffing his face, tilting his head like a confused puppy.
“Well… you both are dating, right?” Rio asked, looking over at Miles. “Mijo always told us you were…”
“No, we’re not,” you say, a sad smile on your face. “But Peter does basically live with me! He does my laundry, cooks, you know, normal stuff.”
“Normal… couple stuff,” Rio filled in. “You pay rent too?”
“I-I tried, but Y/N didn’t let me,” Peter says softly, shrugging. “She said that she didn’t need my help with it.”
It goes quiet for a minute before Miles laughs awkwardly. “Hey, guys! I passed my biology test!”
You smiled when Miles saved you both from the awkward moment, cheering as everyone continued to talk about how they knew Miles was going to pass. Peter wasn’t that into the conversation, he was extremely preoccupied.
You both did do a lot of couple stuff.
For fucks sake, you both even slept with each other. Why weren’t you both dating, why?
When dinner was done and a few drinks were put in after Rio forced Miles to go to bed, you both went back up to your shared apartment. You giggled as you opened the door, smiling back at him. “Do you want to watch a movie or go straight to sleep, what do you want to do?”
“Can I talk to you, Y/N?” He slowly takes your hand, pulling you toward your room.
You giggled, shrugging. “Well, straight to sleep it is then.”
He sat on the bed, parting his legs and pulling you between them making you giggle. “Everything okay?” You whisper, pushing his hair back as you leaned down to press your forehead to his. “I know something’s not. What’s up?”
“Why did you say we’re not dating?” He pouts up at you, a giggle falling from your lips. “Hey, it’s not funny! We… we do things that couples do, why aren’t we a couple? I know… I know you might not-”
“For fucks sake Peter, shut up.”
He gasped as you pulled his face up, your lips pressing to his as your nails softly press into his skin, soft but firm all at once. He groaned loudly, his hands pulling you closer before you pulled away, a whine falling from his lips. “What’re you doing?”
His words were almost slurred together even though the alcohol he drank had little to no effect on him. It makes you laugh as he leaned up, pressing more kisses to your lips before he pulled your body solidly against his own, fixing your position so that you sat on his lap and your hands were around his neck. “What baby, you don’t want me to stop kissing you?”
He hummed, shaking his head. “No, you can’t… ‘s unfair.”
You started to laugh even harder as he basically whined, trying to pull you down for more kisses. You hummed as he started to lay back, hands pushing through his hair. “I need you… I need you, Y/N.”
You rose a brow, rolling your hips into his. “Need? Need’s a big word, baby,” you respond, smiling down at him as he groaned into your neck. He shifts you both so that you were laying on your back, leaning down to keep kissing your lips.
He was addicted, now that he had one taste, he never wanted to stop. His tongue pushed into your mouth, desperately swirling his own around yours as you groaned into his mouth, the minute he pulled away was when you swallowed the mixed saliva gathered at the back of your throat. You hummed as he leaned down, his lips pressing to your for a quick kiss, going over and over again with small breaks in between.
“Peter,” you giggled, his mere hum the only proof he was listening. “Are you just going to kiss me or are you going to get a little adventurous?”
He pauses, tilting his head. “Adventurous?”
You laughed. “Fuck, my beautiful idiot,” you pulled him down for another kiss, your teeth grazing his deliciously making him groan before you pulled away. “You can put that mouth to better use somewhere else.”
He paused, his mind taking a minute to process. “Oh. Oh, yeah!”
You couldn’t help but laugh as he quickly pressed one last kiss to your lips before letting his lips slowly, slowly trail down your body while slipping off your clothes, his nimble fingers leaving a trail of fire on your now bare body. He paused as he stared down at you, his eyes dark and pupils blown as he inhaled.
“So fucking beautiful.”
His words make you groan, hands pushing your thighs apart as his head slowly pushes between them, his mouth already hot on your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, his tongue already exploring your wetness and his fingers pushing into your slit, smearing all of it up and down before settling it on your clit.
He wasted no time, groaning as your hands thread through his hair, holding onto his brown curls like the were handles and your thighs settling on his shoulders. He paused though, pulling away making you whine softly, head tilted again. “This is okay, right? I should’ve asked.”
Fuck, why was he so fucking adorable? “Yes honey, this is okay. More than okay.”
He smiled widely, biting his lip. “Good, because your cunt tastes even better than your mouth.”
You gasped as he pushed his face between your legs again, his lips latching on your clit as he pushed a finger inside of you. Your back arches, eyes widening before they roll back into your head, his finger pushing and pumping trying to find the right rhythm, teasing you. He gasps as you tug on his hair, pushing your hips up into his mouth as he groans against your clit, the vibrations making you shiver.
“F-Fuck, Peter.”
He hummed, enjoying the feeling of your cunt clamping down on his finger, curling it inside of you to feel your body writhe underneath his touch. His eyes roll back as a shiver runs down his back, groaning into your clit that he never let his mouth off of for too long, only shifting his head to get into a new angle. You tasted so fucking good, your swollen clit evidence of his torment, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t describe, he could feel you, all of you.
He could feel every clench of your walls, every shiver that ran up your back. He could hear every stutter of your breath, the skip of your heartbeat, every soft whimper you tried to hide as that one finger continues to find every pleasure spot that not even you knew existed. He could taste you with every lick, every suck of his mouth, his teeth even grazing your sensitive skin if he got too focused.
He finally pulls away from your clit, a thick string of saliva attaching your swollen bud of muscles to his lips, your hips bucking as he stares at your greedy cunt trying to suck his fingers back in every time he pulls out. He groans loudly as the shiver running down his back gets stronger, and the twisting of your stomach turns tight, your thighs shaking as your hips rut into his fingers until his mouth joins the actions of sucking on your entrance as another finger attempts to push into your pussy.
You gasped as your hips bucked without warning, your spongy walls enveloping both of his digits, and your mind blurring from how hard the orgasm hits you. Peter doesn’t even stop though, groans falling from his lips as he pulls out his fingers making you whine, your attempts to ride your hips into them failing. His tongue pushes into you though, a gasp leaving your lips as you automatically tighten your thighs around his head, not that he was complaining.
He could be like this for hours, his tongue pushing into you as his thumb rubbed circles into your overly-sensitive and swollen clit, hard but focused and his fingers pushed back into you. His tongue never stopped moving though, flicking and lapping, his mouth sucking and popping sensually against your pussy, groans that sent vibrations from your pussy straight to the growing knot in your stomach making you whine.
You had just cum, but it wasn’t like he had probably even cared about what it would do to your body, how sensitive it would make your body to every movement he made. His mouth sucked on the opening of your cunt, opening his mouth wide to push his tongue into you as your hips buck into his mouth. Your fingers tug on his hair, whimpering as he rolled your clit between his thumb and pointer with his other hand, his tongue thrusting into you as far as he could, an ache forming in his jaw as he tried to get his mouth anywhere and everywhere on your body.
He could feel the sparking along his spine again, your stomach clenching all over again as his fingers rubbed against that sensitive spot inside of you. His fingers twist, curling inside of you as he tries to push another finger into you, the stretch making you scream out as a shiver runs down his spine, a shaky groan leaving his lips as he swallows everything leaking out of your cunt.
He wanted more. He wanted to taste everything coming from your cunt, everything you had, just everything. He didn’t want to stop, his third digit pushing into you and the squelching filled his ears, his breathing heavy and panting into your cunt. His thumb continues its torment on your clit, rubbing and the shocks running through your body as your thighs shake and fingers shakily scratch against his scalp.
Your body was coated in sweat, stomach tight as his fingers edged you onto the climax of another orgasm, they always came quick after the first. Your body was sensitive all from him, your nipples hard and pebbled from the cold air of your room, bottom lip bitten raw from trying to hold back your moans before he squeezed at your clit - the only thing he needed to do to get you to start moaning out for him.
He loved the sounds you made, getting drunk off of your moans and whines combined with the taste of your arousal and your cunt making his dick hard and his senses overflow. He pushed his three fingers into you as deep as he could, all the way to his knuckles to watch your cunt convulse and feel those same sparks on his spine.
“Peter! Peter wait, Peter- fuck!”
Your third orgasm brought you to tears, vision going black as you squeezed your thighs together, hands gripping his chestnut curls as you tried to steady your breathing. He hummed into your cunt, softly patting your clit making you yelp in surprise, parting your legs to watch as he slowly pulled away. “Are you alright?”
You stared at him, almost dumbfounded. “Y-You… you just ate me out and made me cum three times and you’re asking if I’m alright?”
His brows furrowed as he leaned up, wiping his mouth before licking the back of his hand where all your juices went and kissing under your eyes. He was careful not to get too close to your actual eyes, just in case, only kissing where tears fell. “You’re crying. I don’t like it when you cry.”
You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck after he slowly pulled off his shirt and tugged his pants down to his ankles before kicking them off. “I’m crying out of pleasure. You make me feel so good, Peter.”
He smiled widely down at you, leaning lower to press another kiss to your lips. “Well, I want to make you feel better. Especially with how good you’re making me feel, princess, you make me feel so good. Make me so happy.”
“W-Wait!” Your voice was loud, surprising him as he stared up at you in confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
“I-I… I want to ride you. Please?”
He pauses, but nods with a smile. “Alright. But you can’t be gentle. Don’t be gentle. I want it all.”
You nodded, laughing loudly as he twisted you both over, helping you steady yourself over his aching cock. It was long, thick and veiny, tip red and leaking precum in desperation as he whined, bucking his hips. You giggled, slowly wrapping your hand around his before he nodded and watched as you slowly sunk down.
You gasped, nodding as he slowly pushed into you, his head tilting back and his mouth falling open. Your eyes rolled back into your head, vision blurring as his girth stretched you out even more, every time you thought he bottomed out the more he kept pushing. You whined loudly, hands pushing against his chest as he groaned loudly, eyes wide as he tried to catch his breath.
His body was sheening with sweat, a smile blooming on his face as you dug your nails into his chest, scratching against his skin as you tried to compose himself. This is what he wanted when he wanted you to claim him, he wanted your nails to scratch on his body, your mouth to leave hickies and bite marks, he wanted to be yours.
He watched as you slowly started to bounce on his cock, his eyes staring at your bouncing tits before letting them wander down your body, staring at the bulge on your lower stomach. He hissed loudly as you got harder, fixing your position as your clit rubbed against his pelvis, eyes rolling back.
Your cunt felt just as good wrapped around his cock as it did wrapped around his tongue and fingers, every movement had it squelching and convulsing around his shaft, loud groans falling from his lips as his large hands settled on your hips, thumbs settling on that giant bulge on your stomach.
He watched your mouth fall open as you screamed out, fixing both of your positions to buck his hips up into you and watch your boys fall forward. He kept your body against his, flipping you both over to wrap his arm around your body and press his face into your neck, groaning loudly into your skin as your nails dragged against his back.
He thrusted as hard as he could, desperate to find his climax as your body bounced with this thrusts, loud moans leaving your lips with each thrust and his name falling from your lips over and over. “Yes baby, you’re doing so good. Your cunt is so fucking good baby, I love the way you feel around my dick,” he groans, gasping as your mouth pressed to his skin. “Fuck, fuck yes princess, I want to be covered in you. Want your hickies and your kisses, your scratches and your bites, I don’t care, I want to be covered in you.”
You obviously didn’t expect him to be so into marking, but of course, you weren’t going to say no. You sucked bright purple marks on his skin, digging your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your screams as the bed slammed into the wall, the squelching of your cunt and the slaps of skin against skin echoing against the wall was enough chorus of your sex.
You could feel his dick driving into the deepest parts of you, stretching your cunt so that if you looked down you could see the bulge that just seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. Your eyes rolled back as his fingers rubbed against your clit, whispers of praise falling from his tongue as those same sparks ran up his spine, his stupid little mind finally connecting the dots. “Are you about to cum? Are you about to cum baby?��
You nodded your head into his marked up neck, your tongue slowly licking against the bite mark on his neck as you whined into his neck. “Fuck, fuck Peter! Fuck, I can’t, I can’t!”
“Yes you can baby, you can,” he whispers, pulling away to hold your chin. “Look at me fucking you baby, don’t you want me to keep fucking you? I’ll make you feel better than you make me feel, I’ll fuck you so good. I’ll pump all my cum inside of you and you’ll be such a perfect girl for me and take all of it, right?”
Your eyes rolled back, mouth lulling open as you nodded mindlessly. “Yes! Yes, I will, I’ll take all of it!”
“Fuck, fuck Y/N, you don’t know how much I’ve wanted to cum inside of you, fill you up and watch all of my cum make your stomach bulge,” his voice gets huskier, almost like a growl as his thrusts get rougher, messier. “Fucking hell!”
You screamed this time, watching as he completely pulled out of you just to slam back in, your mind blurring as he continued to pull out and slam back in. You could feel your thighs shaking, that knot in your stomach threatening to break. “Peter, Peter! I’m going to cum, I need to cum!”
“No!” He whined, shaking his head as he started to get faster, his hips rough as his hands held your sides, eyes rolling back. “I’m gonna cum, cum with me. Please honey, I want to feel you, I need it.”
A final scream falls from your lips as he bottoms out, eyes rolling back and body shaking as your fourth orgasm absolutely blurred your mind, endless babbles leaving your lips as he panted above you. He stared down at your stomach, the bulge that shouldn’t have been able to get bigger successfully larger. “Fuck honey, look at what I did to your pretty tummy.”
You did, your mind still slightly hazy, but your mouth fell open when you saw the bulge and a whine fell from your lips. “Y-You’re still hard.”
He smiled. “It’s from the spider bite.”
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omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!
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Bingo tag 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪   𓆩[@yoongiwife23]𓆪 𓆩[@urlocalbum12-blog]𓆪
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Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪
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© asterias-record-shop
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basicrese · 4 months
Text
tasm!peter parker fic recs (pt.2)
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tasm!peter parker fic recs (pt.1)
one-shots
blooming showers by @lucky-bucky-boy
doughnuts by @cosmal
girls night by @lovelettersforthedamned
infrunami by @thursdaygxrls
it’s always been you by @backtothefanfiction
let me be there, let me be yours by @lovelettersforthedamned
movie night by @mullthingsoverinthehotwater
pleading through the bathroom door by @lovelettersforthedamned
somebody else by @beatlesbug
starstruck by @localrockstargf
tasm!Spiderman x fem!reader by @moonstruckme
the last time by @delicate-dorothea
the peace treat-y (comes with sprinkles) by @delicate-dorothea
walking back home by @parkerdoeswriting
you deserve all the flowers by @beyondspaceandstars
you’re drunk, and he’s in love by @lovelettersforthedamned
series & multi-parts
a matter of time by @dameronology
U.N.I. by @webslingingslasher
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bitchyycapricorn · 1 year
Text
Brooklyn Bridge
Peter Parker x Reader
Masterlist Word Count: 1.3k Synopsis: Peter faces one problem constantly: Aunt May knocking on the door at the absolute worst times. Fed up, Peter decides to simply show you off to the public.
Quote: “Good God, look at you you’re doing such a good job.” Warnings: Smut, public sex, praise kink, usage of slut, language, P in V AN: Obviously with my highlighted quote TikTok has reminded me how much of a praise kink I have. Not edited.
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“Oh fuck babe, I’ve missed you so much,” You groan as Peter thrusts into you. Your whole body is on fire at the feeling of Peters lips leaving small kisses on the side of your neck as he pounds into you mercilessly.
“God, “Y/N, you feel so fucking good.” Peter groans as his hand wanders up and down your side, taking in every inch of your body. Peter continues to plant small kiss along your jawline before stopping abruptly at the sound of a knock on his door.
“Peter?” May calls from the other side of the door. “Peter open the door!” Peter groans as he pulls out of you, leaving your body aching for his touch.
“You have to get in the closet,” Peter whispers harshly under his breath, “quick grab your cloths.” You find yourself stumbling out of his bed, scrambling while you pick your discarded cloths up from the ground before making a beeline to Peter’s closet. Even though you now couldn’t see Peter, you could hear him fumbling around while trying to get his cloths on before unlocking the door for May.
“Why do you always keep that door locked Peter?” May stammers as Peter shifts uncomfortably.
“I was trying to get to bed.” He replies slowly, “also I like the privacy.” He admits sheepishly.
May stares up at him for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Yes, alright, well I’m going to bed. I came to tell you goodnight and if you need me make sure it’s an emergency.” Peter nods before giving May a hug and sending her on her way, making sure to tell her goodnight as well.
Peter shut the door, letting out a small groan before or opening up the closet to reveal a disheveled Y/N. You let a smile spread across your lips as you stumble out of Peter’s messy closet. “Well then,” you hum, “Is the mood ruined or…”
“Ruined? What do you think?” Peter mumbles. “Everyone in the world wants to watch us have sex I swear. Constantly needing us, constantly knocking on the door. Might as well just have public sex at this point so people can ask questions without any barriers.”
You let out a small laugh, running your fingers up Peter’s arm. “Public sex huh? Well, maybe let’s keep it tame and go ahead and finish in your bed since May is now asleep.” You suggest, trying to pull Peter with you.
“No.” Peter replies, a smirk forming on his previously solemn face. “Get dressed, we’re going out.”
“Going out? It’s almost 11 at night…” You hesitate as you slip on your pajama shorts and tank top, followed by your jacket.
“Don’t you trust me love?” Peter asks sweetly causing your stomach to erupt with butterflies.
“Of course I trust you,”
+++
“I do NOT trust you!” You shriek as Peter lands on top of the main upper platform on the Brooklyn Bridge. You look down at the cars zooming by below you, feeling your heart drop. “Why the hell are we on the Brooklyn bridge?” You cry, clinging onto Peters warm body.
“Since everyone wants to watch us have sex so bad, thought I’d give them a show.” Peter declares.
“You-You what?” You stammer feeling your cheeks heat up as you stare into your boyfriends masked eyes.
“Hold on to the rail baby,” Peter encourages as he flips you around so your frontside is pressed against the metal railing and you’re staring down at the cars and water below.
“P-peter,” You stutter feeling his cold hand slowly snaking between your spread thighs in order to push your shorts and underwear to the side. His fingers dance across your bare cunt, spreading your wetness in the process.
“Look at my pretty girl, all bent over for me like a little slut.” Peter purrs “Such a good girl aren’t you.” You could now feel his finger slowly entering you, dipping deep into your soaking core.
“Fu-fuck Peter, what if someone sees?” You sputter as your walls close around his slender finger.
His mask brushes against your ear as he whispers “That’s why we’re up her baby, so everyone can watch me fuck you like a slut.” You let out a gasp as his digits thrust in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. “Mmm you like that don’t you?”
You let out a small moan in response, squeezing the railing as his fingers speed up. “Oh god Peter I’m close,” you cry at the feeling of his thumb now toying with your clit.
“Are you now?” Peter hums, smacking your ass as his fingers continue to violently thrust in and out of your heat. “Well then, if you’re so close, cum for me baby. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.” He praises.
Throwing your head back onto his shoulder you allow your body to let go, convulsing as your orgasm washes over your whole body.
“Good girl,” Peter groans, slowly pulling his soaking fingers out of you. Your hands continue to squeeze the railing while you desperately try and catch your breath. Behind you you could hear Peter unzipping his jeans, shuffling as he removes his hard dick from its restraints. “Ready pretty girl?” Peter grunts as he lines himself up behind you. You nod, forgetting about the cars below you entirely.
Peter helps to bend you over slightly more, before grabbing yours hips and sliding into you with ease. “Oh fuck,” Peter moans as he bottoms out. “You feel so fucking good baby.” Peter slowly pulls out of you before pushing back in repeatedly. Your legs began to shake as Peter speeds up his movement, pushing deeper into you each time.
Small moans and cries escape your lips as you’re thrusted against the metal railing repeatedly. “Peter fuck” you cry. “God, oh, Peter.” Your whimpers fill the air as Peter drills into you without mercy, enjoying the feeling of your clenched cunt squeezing his throbbing cock.
“Good god, look at you you’re doing such a good job.” Peter praises, hands gripping your ass roughly. Your legs were shaking as Peter hammers into you from behind. Each thrust feeling deeper than the last, pushing you closer to your second orgasm. “Such a pretty little slut. Taking my cock so good in front of everyone.” Peters voice and hands felt hypnotic. The way he’s roughly grabbing your hips as he guides your body up and down his thick cock with every thrust.
“Peter-“ you moan, never wanting Peter to stop. “K-keep going please,” you whine.
Peter lets out a grunt, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. Your body capturing his attention as it knocks against the railing the deeper he pushes into you. “Shit-“ Peter mutters as his orgasm begins to creep up even more. “I’m close.”
You let out another string of moans knowing you’re close as well. You feel as one of Peters hands snakes around your front side, slowly rubbing your clit and adding to the pleasure. Throwing your head back you can feel your muscles begging to contract as a wave of adrenaline and pleasure washes over you. “Fuck Peter,” you groan as you finish around his cock.
Letting out a loud moan Peter releases inside of you, overwhelmed by the feeling of you squeezing around him as you ride out the last of your own orgasm.
Peter slowly pulls out and you can feel the hot cum slowly running down your bare thighs. Your body still shaking from the events just moments ago.
“You alright baby?” Peter whispers as his arms wrap around your disheveled figure. Planting soft kisses to your shoulder as he rubs your upper arms.
“I’m good, that was, that was amazing,” you reply, leaning back into his warm body.
“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it as much as I did. Now let’s get you home and cleaned up hm?” He hums, turning you around so you’re facing him. You nod, allowing Peter to embrace you once more.
You look around at your surroundings for a moment, admiring the beauty of the city from so high up. “Hey Peter,” you whisper, “how many people do you think recorded us?”
Peter let out a small laugh before realizing you were right. “Oh fu-“
+++
TAGLIST @noakrootje
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headkiss · 11 months
Note
Peter standing up as a groomsmen for someone's wedding and he sees reader in the audience tearing up and he mouthes I love you to her 😭🫶🏾🥺
peter is such a loverboy </333 thank u for requesting this is a short and sweet one!
Weddings have always made you emotional. They’re a beautiful thing, especially when they’re people you know.
And somehow, now that you’re in love yourself, they get you even more. Peter stands on the groom's side, his suit crisp and hugging him perfectly. He looks as pretty as ever.
You’re sitting a couple of rows back with the rest of the guests, and though you’re meant to be watching the couple that’s saying their vows right then, your eyes keep flicking over to Peter.
Listening to the words the couple says, the happiness and the watery laughs, your eyes well up pretty quick. As if he can sense it, Peter’s eyes meet yours in the crowd, and he huffs a small laugh when he notices you trying to fan away your tears.
He shakes his head at you with a wide smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
Looking at him up there, it makes everything even more special. Because you know what it’s like to love someone that way. To want to shout it out to anyone who’s listening. To know that you’re loved the exact same way.
Peter’s done that for you.
You wipe the first tear that falls down your cheek quickly, glancing up to the sky to try and reign it in. When you look back, Peter’s still looking at you.
‘Stop,’ you mouth at him, like he’s the one making you cry these tears of joy and overwhelming emotion.
He just shakes his head again. Then, his lips move, shaping the words ‘I love you.’
Just like that, as the couple says they do and you mouth the three words right back to Peter, another tear falls down your cheek.
When the couple walks down the aisle, hands clasped and smiles stretching their faces, you stand with the crowd, clapping for them. Peter finds you quickly, pulling the handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbing your tears away for you.
“You’re a wedding crier,” he says, a hand pinching your chin gently to keep your face tilted to his, the other wiping away the small mascara smudges under your eyes.
“I can't help it. It’s so sweet.”
He dips down to kiss your cheek, then your mouth. It’s quick but it tells you enough.
“I love you, bug. Wedding tears and all.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you push his hair off his forehead. “I love you, too.”
Yeah, it’s nice to be loved enough that you’d never question it, that the words come easier each time.
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citrusy-lemons · 11 months
Text
meet-cute
tasm!peter x reader (university au)
summary: you're late to your class and someone's left a skateboard on your path. the owner of the skateboard has very brown eyes.
w/c: 0.8k
author's note: um, hi. this is the first thing i've written for peter parker (i know, shocking, i mostly read about him) so i'm not sure whether i've captured his essence, but i tried. also i know it's a bit cringey but i started writing it in the reader's pov and i couldn't change it to peter's in the middle like i wanted to so, i guess, next time. i hope you like this! constructive criticism is encouraged, please be nice :)
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you had not imagined your first day of university to go this way. it was a cloudy day, pleasant and not too windy. you were hoping to make it to class a few minutes early and have everything set up before the professor arrived. 
but instead, you were late, you were not organized at all, and you were panicking. all because your stupid alarm hadn’t gone off. why? because you’d forgotten to change the timezone in your phone. moving to the new city had not been easy and now you were super late for your class.
cursing yourself for your stupidity, you were hurrying across the campus, you weren’t sure where your class was, but you were hoping that you’re walking in the right direction. 
checking your bag, hoping to god that you’d grabbed the right books on your way out, with a cup of coffee in your other hand, you awkwardly jogged across the campus to the building where you hoped would be philosophy by mr. jackson. 
you were in the midst of congratulating yourself on successfully having the correct textbooks in your bag when the earth shifted. 
okay maybe that was a bit dramatic but that was what had happened to you. the earth hadn’t shifted, but you’d fallen on your butt because someone had left a skateboard lying in the middle of the walking path. 
thankfully, your coffee hadn’t spilled but your books sure had. looking up you found a brown-haired boy bashfully kneeling down and start collecting the books, profusely apologizing.
"-really sorry, are you okay? did you break anything? i broke my ankle a couple of years ago but i was just being stupid, oh god did you break your ankle? i hope you didn't, that hurts a lot. i'm so so sorry, are you okay?" he finished, turning his brown eyes on you in concern.
he looked very... soft. he was wearing a brown jacket and a navy blue zip up over a light blue tshirt. his headphones were hanging out of the neck of his tshirt. he looked like he smiled a lot. his brown hair was ruffled, his brows furrowed and you realized he was still waiting for your answer.
"i dont think i've broken my ankle if that's what you're worried about," you sat up. your butt was sore, but other than that you were okay.
"okay, that's good, that's a start, anything else broken?" he bit his lip, and you tried not to stare at it.
"no, doesn't feel like it," you took a breath, and looked away from him, towards the guilty board, "why don't you explain why your skateboard was just lying there?"
he helped you up, your coffee was still intact, you dusted yourself off.
"oh, uh yeah, again, i'm really sorry, i was checking my schedule on whether philosophy was right now or in an hour and i didn't realise it had rolled away from me," he did look very guilty, his frown saying as much.
he returned your books and you stuffed them in your bag which was lying on the ground. he was still looking at you.
"be careful then," say something clever, why wasn't your brain working?
"i'm really sorry," he offered, why was he still looking at you?
he picked his own bag up from the ground and looked away, grabbing his skateboard too.
you blinked.
"i think philosophy is right now,"
he looked at you again.
"which reminds me," you walked past him, fast. almost running, looking straight ahead.
philosophy is right now and you are very late.
"um, hey!" you heard him call out and turned around, still walking. he was facing your direction, looking at you again.
"philosophy by mr. jackson?" he asked, his skateboard in one hand and his brown bag slung across his back. did he really like the color brown?
"yeah," you called back, hoping he didn't have the same class as you.
"his classroom's that way," he pointed his thumb behind him.
goddamnit.
you stopped and started walking in his direction and he joined with you as you went past him. he took the hint that you were late and didn't really feel like making conversation. you tried not to visually show your panic but he seemed like a good observer.
you both reached the classroom (it was the first room in the building how could you have missed it?), and saw that yeah, you guys were very late.
the classroom was full, and a middle aged man was already talking to the students. professor jackson noticed you both before you had a chance to say anything.
"ah late on the first day, not making a good impression mr. and miss...?"
"peter- uh parker, peter parker," the boy next to you said.
you introduced yourself and mr. jackson let you both get to your seats without further embarrassment.
you sat down, pulled your textbook out and tried listening to what the professor was saying.
you looked for him and found peter parker's brown eyes already on you.
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parkerdoeswriting · 3 months
Text
A Love Game
Peter Parker x AFAB! Reader
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category: fluffy smut
summary: Peter and reader blowjobs except readers lowkey shy and so me 🤩
warnings: oral (reader and Pete), SMUTTTTT!, cum eating (hate that word it’s so embarrassing to write)
word count: 0.8k
A:N: reader is written as AFAB but I tried to write it gender neutrally for the trans mascs and afab enbies (MEE) :) also my first smut, so gross!!
smut under cut :)
“Fuckkkkk!!! Peter!!…..” you cry out as your pubic bone presses impossibly close to his face, his nose bumping into your clit, causing you to scream out more.
He mumbles a response, muffled by his lips against your folds.
“Peter fuck… GOD!” you don’t know whether or not to wrap your thighs around his head and squeeze him closer, or kick him away with your feet.
Your belly gets butterflies and you can feel your body squirming more and more, you let out soft moans that slowly get more and more loud with the intensity of the moment. You hear Peter’s tongue and lips practically slurping you from the bottom, the noises perverted and filling the room.
“Peter, please!” you cry out against for him, sweat around your hairline and your hair tousled.
He hums as he brings you over the edge, leaving your legs shaking as he continues lapping at your juices. Your chest raising up and down as you breathe frantically through the feeling of sensitivity he gave you.
You cry out and tug on his chocolate brown locks, trying to signal for him to pull away. He gives your clit a quick kiss before pulling away, his lips shimmery as he licks at them. You shy away from him, immediately trying to close your legs and cover yourself.
“Bug?” he kisses your knee, stroking your thigh up and down.
You reluctantly look up, seeing your boyfriend’s dorky smile and soft eyes, and you can feel yourself relax just at the sight.
“Was that uh.. good?” Peter asks, opening your legs again so he can lay between them, his face nuzzled on your chest.
“Y..yeah..” you say, playing with his hair again, still trying to come down from the feeling.
He smiles against your skin and places a quick peck just below your collarbone, giving that area a quick nip as well.
“Do uh.. you want me to do anything?” you blush trying to close your legs again.
“You don’t gotta..” he says, his eyes fluttering.
“Wanna make you feel good too..” is your reply before you weasel out from under him, rolling him so he’s on his back.
You lean in to kiss him, tasting yourself as you do so. He plays with your hair, running his fingers through it.
“You don’t have to Bug.. like eating you out” he nips at your bottom lip before pressing his lips to the corners of your mouth.
You pull away, and he goes to object before you slip your hands under his tented, plaid boxers.
“Fuck..” he grunts, feeling your hands wrap around him.
His hands push at his waistband, trying to frantically free himself. You see this and shakily remove them for him, watching him in all his glory. You lick your lips greedily as you thumb at his slit, watching him writhe under you. His lips play into a teasing yet loving smirk, his body propped up on his elbows.
It’s not like you haven’t been naked with him before, or even haven’t had sex, but you can’t help but be shy around your boyfriend when you’re both being intimate.
“Bug.. please move” he grunts, trying to buck his hips up and down as you stay relatively still, in thought.
“S-sorry..” you whisper, slowly stroking him as he moans.
“Just like that..” he stops thrusting so much, letting you take over.
You speed up and slow down, switching between different speeds as he grips the sheet of your shared bed.
“S’good” he shuts his eyes tightly, his face pinched together in bliss.
You slowly reposition yourself between his legs, practically doing the child’s pose as you kiss up his shaft.
“Is.. is this good?” You say inbetween pecks.
He nods and smiles at you, his eyes soft. You slowly descend your mouth on him, closing your eyes. You move your lips up and down on him, and he gasps.
“Gonna.. oh my god..” he whines, and you can feel his legs trembling on both sides of you
You feel a sticky liquid dribble onto your tongue, and you accept it. He’s moaning loudly as you wait for him to finish, tracing a vein on his dick with your tongue.
He sighs loudly and cups your face with one hand, pushing back his hair with the other. Your mouth is parted, his cum leaking out of your lips. He takes notice and pushes up on your jaw line, forcing your mouth closed. You take the hint and swallow, making a face at the slightly familiar taste. He smiles triumphantly before reaching for his and your discarded clothes, handing you pajamas and sliding his on.
“Cuddle time?” he asks, opening his muscular arms for you to cozy in to.
You smile and bury your face into the crook of his neck, letting him envelop you in one of his signature Peter hugs.
“My lil cuddle bug” he teases sleepily, his eyes closing.
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Text
“ cuddle–bugs. „
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(( request PART TWO )).
!!! read part one | part three | part four | part five here !!!
mcu!peter parker x reader.
IN WHICH — you fell asleep on your best friend’s shoulder during movie night and the avengers won’t let you live it down.
author’s note ; okay so i made this a winter/christmas fic on accident cause i miss it. you’re welcome:,) ALSO !! lmk if y’all want me to add you to the part 3 tag list;)
✨masterlist✨.
3.2k.
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It’d been two nights, and you still couldn’t boggle the thought of Peter from your brain. Well, boggle the romantic thought of Peter from your brain. You had always been extra thoughtful and considerate of your best friend, but you never realized just how much you were until two nights ago. Two nights ago, when you had the best sleep of your life, passed out on Peter’s shoulder. Two nights ago, before Sam and Bucky started ogling you and Peter like no one’s business. Two nights ago, the last time you got a successful wink of sleep.
Shit.
Perhaps you were lying to yourself– No. You were definitely lying to yourself. Peter Parker was your best friend, but you knew that your feelings for him were far from that simple. You were the first one to notice when he entered a room, and the first to feel his absence when he’d leave. You knew him better than anyone else did; he was written in a language that you’d carefully taken the time to understand. You just hoped that he’d taken the time to understand you just the same way.
The thought was gnawing at you, feeding on the anxiety that had kept you up all night. There was no way you could act on this, nor express your thoughts to him. And there certainly was no damn fucking way in hell you could look him in the eyes while you tried to process your feelings.
As the sun rose, so did you. Seeing as you had barely slept an hour, starting your day as early as possible seemed like your best option — even if that meant peeling yourself from your bed at four in the morning.
Your breath visibly filled the passing air as you ran the outdoor track in the courtyard. Winter’s chill was spiteful at such an early hour, but it was just the medicine you needed to give you energy after an all–nighter. The wind welcomed you with a sharp bite along your exposed skin, which was mainly your cheeks whilst you ran. Steve had taught you a thing or two about going on runs, and covering up in the winter was one of them.
The day went on tediously; constantly training, working on paperwork, and avoiding the company of Peter Parker. The latter was the most difficult. He was your best friend for crying out loud. You still couldn’t shake your nerves, or stomach the embarrassment that your teammates would cause you from their teases. There were already too many close calls.
While you were practicing close–hand combat in the gym, Bucky approached you. At first, he criticized your form and shadowed you for critique, but after a few minutes of ice breaking, he was quick to give some snickers and googly–eyes.
“Hang on there, cowboy.” He started, right hand hovering just beside your wrist. “You need to hold your shoulders back so that your punch gives a harder blow..” That’s when the devious smirk shadowed his face. “Unless, you’re planning to tussle with your boyfriend.”
The sharp breath you exhaled in response was a lot more intense than you’d initially intended. “He’s not my boyfriend!” The tone of voice you gave was also more intense than you intended, especially as you unconsciously gritted your teeth. And gathered from the way Bucky’s eyes widened at your punch, you took it that the impact was, once again, more intense than you’d intended.
You blamed the sleep depravity.
Later on, post–shower, you went to the kitchen to grab your second energy drink of the day. You felt your shoulders ease and your eyelids grow a bit heavier as you popped the metal can open. The quiet simmer of the carbonation was melodic whilst you downed half the serving, on spot. You were so focused on obtaining the beverage that you nearly missed Natasha looming in the corner.
“Cute sweatshirt.” She chimed, arms crossed while she watched you from the furthest crevasse of the kitchen.
Eying her, you could see the silhouette of her smirk. It immediately sent you questioning why she looked at you so smug. Your gaze fell to which baggy sweatshirt you decided to wear, suddenly insecure about it. It was a Midtown marching band hoodie; royal blue, faded–vintage yellow writings. It took you a beat or two to remember where you got it, but when you did–
“Is it your boyfriend’s?”
Shit.
Frustration bubbled through your system. Except, it wasn’t frustration towards the team. It was frustration towards yourself. How much of a coward did you have to be to act so nervous? To not be able to look Peter in the eye? To avoid any entertainment of the thought of the two of you together?
Well, if ignoring those thoughts made you a coward, perhaps you weren’t the biggest one. Most nights, when you couldn’t sleep, you used the image of his torso spooning yours to get you some peace of mind. The warmth of his arm hugging your waist, the slight tickle of his breath on the back of your neck, and the safety of his little kisses hidden in your hairline. In fact, you thought about it most times; however, last night, thinking about it made you feel unbelievably guilty.
You found that guilt and sleep don’t mix too well.
Hours later, you sat yourself in the meeting room, hacking away as best as you could at your training reports for the day. The task was stupid, but you were understanding of it. It just didn’t help that you felt the weight of only sleeping an hour creeping up on you. Your eyes felt like they carried a thousand pounds to them.
A gentle knock met the doorframe, catching your attention from your assignment. Your eyes met Wanda’s, curiously. The curiosity fled your expression the split second she opened her mouth.
“Peter’s looking for you. Should I tell him–”
Annoyance scrunched in your nose, and an anguished huff pushed itself out of your throat. Your elbows met the table quietly, hands rushing to cradle your face in it as you tried to keep your composure. “He’s not my boyfriend!” You cried.
Still, Wanda held patience to herself. Now she was the one who looked at you curiously, arching a brow as she noticed how troubled you were. You already knew she was reading you like a book with her telepathy. Wanda had already flipped through your thoughts front and back by the time you’d finished your response. “I know. He’s your best friend, and he’s looking for you.” Her voice was so gentle, you wanted it to swaddle you and lull you to sleep.
Just before she took her leave, Wanda kept a sympathetic smile on her face. She’d already started to step out of sight, but she had a closing thought. “And, y’know.. I felt the same way you do now with Vis.” She hummed, “The only way to relieve yourself from it is to talk to him.”
Which brought you here. Now. At eleven twenty–three in the evening. You sat yourself on the same couch that started this spiral, chipping away tirelessly at the paperwork you vowed to finish. Though, your progress consisted of staring at the document blankly. You were closer to passing out than you were to actually typing out a sentence.
“You should get some sleep.”
The second you met Peter’s eyes, you felt it immediately. That zing. That spark. The knot in your stomach that guilted you for avoiding him all day. You couldn’t even muster out a response to give to him. Part of that definitely had to do with the fact that he was in his pajamas; flannel pajama pants, and no shirt. It wasn’t the first time you saw him shirtless, though the sight of his abs, especially right now, took your breath away a little.
His palms pressed against the head of the chair, leaning on it as he rocked back and forth on his feet. His brows slowly knit together the longer it took you to reply, obviously worried about you. “Are you not speaking to me? Did I do something?” The second question was quick to follow the first.
Your expression mirrored his, though with less worry and more defense. “What? No.” You stated, shutting your laptop without breaking eye contact. “Why would you think you did something wrong?” It churned your tummy to think that he’d been overthinking about this all day. Then again, if you were in his shoes, you’d have been thinking the exact same things.
It wasn’t hard to notice the relief that settled his posture, or the hesitance that lingered in his stare. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe you, it was more that he wasn’t sure he could yet. “Because this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to me since fifth grade.”
The urge to roll your eyes at him was strong, but the smile you had to fight off was more distracting. “Peter, I didn’t speak to you because I had laryngitis. I literally couldn’t!”
He smiled back at you, gesturing his hand towards you to emphasize his point. “Exactly!” Peter made his way around the chair, seating himself beside you on the couch. “I just got worried.” He made sure there was enough space between the two of you, nervous that you’d be upset if he sat too close. “Are you okay though? You look like you didn’t get any sleep.” And suddenly, you were reminded that you couldn’t hide from him like you wanted to.
You nearly forgot that Peter was your best friend. He studied you before you even had the chance to notice he was in the room, half the time. Wanda’s words bounced around in your brain, but the idea of communicating all of that right now made your stomach churn worse. Slowly shaking your head, you moved to set your laptop on the coffee table beside you, quick to turn your attention back to the boy beside you. “I, uh.. I’m just stressed, is all.” You shrugged, simplifying your emotions.
Peter’s stare narrowed at you, concerned. “Stressed about what?” Once again, his eyes scanned over your face, trying to find the answer he was looking for before you felt the need to say it. When he found how panic it brought you, he stopped. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
It felt like a weight lifted from your shoulders at how understanding Peter was. You smiled lightly at him, focus flickering between one of his eyes to the other. Maybe it was because a smile began to touch his lips too, or because you felt unbelievably seen by him, but your heart swelled more than it ever had before. “I’d rather not talk about it right now.” You answered, honestly. “I should get some sleep first. I’m just…”
As you trailed off, Peter picked up the sentence where you couldn’t finish it. “Nervous about sleep?” His voice got softer as he asked the question, smile growing when you nodded in agreement. He waited a moment, brewing a few different solutions in his head. “Can I help?”
You could feel the way your heart raced at Peter’s earnesty, happily realizing you couldn’t turn down the offer. Nodding, you eyed him closely, watching as he grinned at you. He grabbed a throw blanket from beneath the coffee table, and the remote for the flat–screen while he was at it. Peter turned the television on and sat back on the couch, extending his arm for you to lean on him.
“You sure you want me to cuddle with you? You’re shirtless.” You pointed out, verbally self–sabotaging yourself. Idiotically self–sabotaging yourself.
Peter raised a brow at you, laughing quietly. Though, there was a slight blush creeping along his cheekbones. “That hasn’t stopped you in the past.”
A small fit of laughter drove your decision as you laid yourself beside him; head cozy in his shoulder, and your body pressed against the side of his. He laid the blanket over the two of you, but the arm he had hugging around you was the most securing. His fingertips gently brushed tiny shapes into your forearm, and Peter knew exactly which movie to put on to whisk you off to slumber.
Watching your comfort movie was quite a tempting offer, but you still couldn’t stop your eyes from shutting. Peace overtook you before you could catch it, and you couldn’t exactly remember the moment sleep finally conquered you. The last thing you remember hearing was Peter’s faint whisper to ask FRIDAY to dim the lights.
Peter watched you sleep more than the movie. He couldn’t stop himself, seeing how cute you were. He found himself in the same spot he was just two nights ago; gently rubbing your shoulders and back, brushing the hair back that fell into your face, and listening to the stilling sound of your breath as it slowed with your slumber. It made his heart swell.
The second he knew you were passed out, he stealthily turned the television off and scooped you into his arms. Peter lifted you delicately, swaddling you in the blanket and carrying you off to your bedroom.
As he laid you down on your bed, a particular piece of room decor caught his eye; the newest addition, something he’d never seen before. His cheeks grew ablaze with pink at the framed photo on your nightstand, taking in every aspect of the picture. His heart raced, a dorky grin touching his lips when he finally read Sam’s sticky note.
Peter was pulled from his thoughts at the feeling of your gentle fingertips grasping his arm. He heard the sheets settle beneath your stirring, and the soft grumbles sifting through your lips. Feeling your hand grasp at his elbow and tug him towards you made his heart skip a beat. The hug you pulled him into was all he needed to know that you wanted him to stay. And that, he did.
He lost track of how long he’d slept for, or when you decided to get up without waking him, but he wasn’t mad about it. Peter had one of the best sleeps of his life, and he had you to thank for that. He had you to thank for everything
Peter had never woken up feeling so rejuvenated. He felt like a brand new person; alive, ravished, loved. He felt validated by Sam’s little sticky note, and finally connected the pieces on why you were so jittery around him. He’d seen you interact with a handful of people you’d found attractive, and now he understood that he was also in that category. At least, if his assumptions were correct. He at least had woken up with a fresh coat of confidence today to make him believe his assumptions.
It was routine for his thoughts to drift somewhere in the midst of you. Every sense of him found you intoxicating and now more than ever did he cherish it. He inhaled the lingering aroma of you left over from your sleeping figure, and grew a smile at the sound of your laughter that carried itself through the compound’s corridors. The same laugh that he’d heard all too often.
Wait.
You usually only laughed that hard at his jokes.
Peter slowed his slippered–steps toward the kitchen, peering his focus to where the sweet sound came from. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight of you so happy, but immediately dropped to the floor when he saw you so happy with a guy. A vaguely familiar guy. A strikingly too attractive guy. It sent a sharp chill through his bloodstream and made it boil beneath his skin.
“A little birdy told me that Harley’s been meaning to ask them out before he leaves.” Sam’s voice cut through the quiet, though he made a means that the information didn’t leave the kitchen. His voice stayed soft, secretive.
Harley. Harley Keener. That’s why his name was so familiar. The Harley Keener: Tony Stark’s protégé intern, who’s attending Stanford for mechanical engineering, and skyrocketing as one of the most influential teenagers of this generation for his work on climate change. Peter recalled the six three articles he’d read just last week on Harley’s work. What was he doing here? And what the fuck was he doing here talking to you?
Peter’s focus remained stuck on the sight of you and Harley talking down the hall. The second his gears finally processed what Sam had told him, he turned his head to look over, eyes landing last on Sam by the espresso machine. “What do you mean?”
Sam shrugged lightly, his lips pressing into a line as he stirred the sugar in with his coffee. “I heard that while he’s here on break, he’s planning to ask Y/N out.” He let the sentence fall from his mouth with a sigh, disappointment tracing the sound of his voice. “Sources say, he’s planning to pop the question before Hanukkah starts.”
It hit him like bricks, the urgency. The punch to the gut. The confidence Peter had woken up with withered somewhere he couldn’t grasp anymore. He glanced out of the windows behind him, watching the snowfall cover the courtyard. Hanukkah was in four days. Peter still had some time, but would it be enough?
“Wait.” He started, turning his attention back to Sam. “What source?” Peter walked into the kitchen, placing his hands on his bare hips. He was still in his pajamas, messy hair and shirtless torso. His outfit merely consisted of flannel pajama pants and dinosaur slippers. “Were you using your mini drone to eavesdrop again?”
Sam chuckled, trying hard to act like he wasn’t offended. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t call Redwing that.” He acted like his remote control helicopter actually had a name. “But no. My source’s name happens to rhyme with boney shark.”
Shit.
If Tony really said that, it meant that Harley was actually serious about this. The Avengers were definitely prone to tease, but they were far from the crowd who’d start rumors. The bitter taste of jealousy weighed on Peter’s tongue, and he could already feel the sickening aftertaste caking in the back of his throat. He swallowed, thicker than he had in what felt like a decade. It felt like he had forced down an entire jar of peanut butter.
Sam saw the way Peter froze in his tracks. He walked over, steps slow to prevent spilling any of his precious latte from its mug. He gently placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, turning his attention to where Peter’s naturally gravitated back to; the way you and Harley interacted definitely seemed intimidating, but Sam wasn’t going to let Peter give up that easily.
“Another little birdy told me that boney shark hopes you beat him to it.” Sam’s voice suddenly got smoother, lower, as though his words had a deeper meaning. And to Peter, they did. The boy seemed to lighten up, processing Sam’s words like they were prophetic. “And that birdy’s name rhymes with shmaptain shmerica.”
Sam took that as his cue to leave, knowing that he said what he needed to. Quite frankly, he said more than enough to shake Peter out of his doubtful thoughts. There was no way in hell that Sam Wilson was a liar, which only added to how true the statement was.
If Steve–liberty–and–justice–for–all–Rogers was in on this, that meant something truly powerful. It meant that his team was rooting for him. Knowing that may not have given Peter’s confidence back to him, but it gave him something even more important. Something that grounded him back to the present unlike anything else, and something that he’d never take for granted:
Hope.
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literaila · 8 months
Text
caught a bug
tasm!peter x fem reader
part two to this.
a/n: i am seriously sooo
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*
“no, peter.”
“why not? no one will even be there. it’ll be just me and you… and possibly a couple of butterflies.”
he’s been trying to convince you to go to the butterfly pavilion with him for the last fifteen minutes. he even pulled up their website, showing you pictures of bugs that all looked the same and smiling adorably. he’s got a flush on his cheeks from all of his arguing.
where he got this idea, you’re not sure. why he’s so incessant on it, you know. he’s peter parker.
he practically lives to annoy you.
“i think i would rather die than feel a butterfly crawl on me.”
“we’ll get you some insect repellent.”
“then what’s even the point of going?” you ask him. you’re scrolling mindlessly on your phone; mostly just to avoid looking at him.
and drive him a little bit insane. whichever.
peter scoffs. “to go with me, of course. don’t you want to see a six foot long snake in a tree?”
“no, can’t say that’s ever been on my bucket list. or anyone’s.”
“it’s yellow,” he says, leaning towards you on your bed. he slyly—not—moved from your desk twenty minutes ago. and you try to pretend that you haven’t noticed him inching over. “please will you go with me? i’ll buy you a butterfly gift chain.”
“why would i go to a bug museum?” you ask him, lip twitching. you’re still not looking at him. “i’ve already got one of my own.”
from the corner of your eye you see his brow furrow. “who?”
you shrug. “you don’t know him.”
“i’m sure i do,” peter says, “who?”
“well, he lives off campus,” you look over to him, smiling. “i met him in class and he helped me with my homework… you know, things just went from there. he’s tall. rocking bod.”
peter is frowning.
you sign wistfully. “he’s also terribly annoying and he’s always buzzing around.”
and then you glance at him and he’s glaring.
“that’s not nice.”
“i might need to get one of those electric fly swaggers. you know the ones that look like tennis rackets? and they electrocute bugs?”
peter has his arms crossed. “i got that from the name.”
you pout, leaning towards him so you can ruffle his hair. “aww, peter,” you coo, “what’s wrong?”
he pushes your hand off, pretending to adjust his hair—even though there’s no real point to it. “what did i do to make you this mean to me?”
“i think it was the ‘sweetheart’ thing when we met.”
“what?” he frowns. “that’s endearing. like when your grandma says it.”
“it’s condescending. i don’t want a random man calling me sweetheart. especially when he’s trying to get a seat right next to me. i thought you were a frat boy.”
peter just stares at you with his mouth open.
“you’ve got the hair for it.”
his mouth closes, jaw clenched, and he glares at you again.
you laugh, hanging your head at him. “and anyway, why do you want to go to the butterfly pavilion? i didn’t even know we had one of those.”
peter looks away, swallowing. he shakes his head, and then he looks back to you, his usual smile is tight-lipped. “you don’t want to go to dinner, and you don’t want to get coffee. i just thought…”
“so your next resort was the butterfly pavilion?”
peter holds his hands up in defense. “hey, i figured no one’s ever asked you. i’m trying to beat the crowd.”
“it is literally just you and me.”
“the figurative crowd,” he rolls his eyes. duh. but then his weird smile is back, and he’s seriously looking at you. he clears his throat, readjusting, uncomfortable. “i’ve been meaning to ask you, though. why won’t you go to dinner with me?”
“huh?”
“or get coffee. i mean, i know we joke, but if there’s a reason…” he gestures with his head. “or another guy or something, i want to know. or if you’re just not…”
that into me.
peters face is so painfully neutral. he’s looking at you, except that he’s not. and you’ve never seen him quite like this.
you joke with him all of the time. mess with him like he’s someone you’ve known for decades, and not just four months. but his smile has never looked so fake.
apparently you’ve been staring at him for too long, because peter makes a noise. “sorry,” he whispers, but too loud. “i don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. i just don’t want to keep dancing around it, y’know?”
“you didn’t—“ you clear your throat, looking away from him. “it’s fine.”
he nods, and then he waits.
he gives you several heart attacks, and peter, well, this must be normal for him. making girls feel like their organs are going to fall out of their chest. asking them to random places that of course he likes, because he likes everything.
looking at them so patiently, just like he’s looking at you now. giving them that friendly smile, that evil smile that made you afraid of him in the first place.
you sigh. “i don’t know. i thought you were joking, mostly.”
“for the last three months?”
you look over at him, eyes deadpanned. “peter. you realize how unserious you are, right? like, this cannot be news to you.”
he nudges you. “i know. but there’s only so many times you can make the same joke before it gets old…”
you don’t want to tell him that it has gotten old. that you feel your heart sink a little lower every time he laughs about it, because reality is just…
just.
“well, you’re usually unbearable. how am i supposed to know when you’re being serious, or just annoying?”
peter laughs with his teeth.
“plus, it’s just…” you blow out a breath. “i mean, we’re different, peter. i don’t like doing things like going to dinner or museums. i’m not any good at them. actually, the only thing i feel any good at is being mean to you. that’s easy.”
“well, you’re doing a great job.”
you snort.
peter leans over to try and catch your eye. “it doesn’t matter if you’re good at it. i don’t care about that. and it just means that you need practice.”
“i’m not falling for the ‘we’ll just practice this’ bullshit trope, peter—“
“c’mon,” he says, groaning. “like i’d let you practice with me.”
you roll your eyes at him but lean back against the wall. letting your shoulder brush his.
“hey,” he whispers, moving closer.
“hmm?”
“you like me, though, right? you already know i like you.”
“do i?”
“i wouldn’t endure all of the pain you put me through if i didn’t.”
“true,” you say, sighing. “yeah, i like you, peter. i wouldn’t have let you in if i didn’t.”
peter smiles, a bit smugly and you scowl at him, hating the way that smile makes you feel.
“good,” he whispers, turning toward you. “that means i can do this…”
when peter parker kisses you, it’s like letting go of any doubts. it’s like getting a limb back after years of phantom pain.
it’s sweet and sort, and peters lips are as soft as they look, and so is his hair—
when he pulls back, he’s still wearing that smile. “so, will you go out with me?”
you tilt your head and pretend to think about it. “are you still going to buy me that keychain?”
peter laughs and he kisses you again.
*
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venus616 · 2 years
Text
i'm just saying you can do better; {p.p.}
Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)
Summary:  tell me have you heard that lately? i'm just saying you can do better... and i'll start hating only if you make me. (lyrics by drake, marvin's room)
translation: you and peter have been best friends for years, you had a crush on him but eventually got over it and he noticed you're about to move on to some other guy. he just had to get something off his chest before you did that
Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, alcohol mentions (margarita, beer, shots), vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex, praise kink (if you squint), jealousy, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW
Word Count: 5.6k (2.4k is smut LOL)
A/N: once i decided on a title for this fic i couldnt stop humming marvins room sjdjnfjnd but yeah this was fun to write it was a previously abandoned wip (my first one ever for peter actually) that i revised the plot for almost entirely and this came out way better than i expected shout out to my oomf / friend for reading both times
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She usually kept to herself and her closest friends, Peter being her best one. And don’t get her wrong, she loved Peter. There were no words for how much adoration she had for him, but unfortunately, she wasn't the only one. 
Peter was their college’s most eligible bachelor, how could he not be? Top of his class, the freshmen’s favorite Physics TA and possibly the cutest guy at the school. Don’t get him wrong, he’s not necessarily a playboy but it was definitely a step up from his social standing from Midtown High. He enjoyed the attention, he’d be a fool not to. Especially because he’s being noticed as himself and not just when he’s in the suit. So yeah, he went on a few dates here and there. Hooked up with a couple people in the bathrooms of frat parties. Even flirted while he was helping students on their problem sets. 
Unfortunately for her, she had to hear all about it afterwards. 
Whether it’s from his end, a guy talking about the encounter in the dining hall or a girl talking about it before her organic chemistry lecture. She wasn’t the biggest fan of it, it hurt seeing someone she loved dearly, after realizing how deeply that love ran once he was single again, not manifest into a deeper relationship. Peter had been a core part of her life since high school, Aunt May adored her, her family adored him. She was even there for his break up with Gwen Stacy so she could study abroad. 
As they got older she understood those were the things that just came with being the best friend to someone who was as amazing as Peter which is why she didn’t risk changing it. She accepted her place in his life and eventually those feelings of consistent jealousy that would flare during the first few months of their freshman year subsided. Sometimes they would come back up but she pushed it aside as false hope as there were outside parties involved. For example, the few times when her friends (that weren’t also his) accused him of being flirty. Each time, nothing came of it. So she refused to read too much into it until he said it explicitly. 
She finally chose to actively move on from this high school crush, that she even started seeing someone from one of her classes and they were planning a third date for this weekend. This, because of course, came up during their hang out with their mutual friends in her and Felicia’s campus apartment. They were hanging out to take the edge off after midterms from last week and crowded in the kitchen counter playing bartender during. This was one of the rare times Peter could make it, so she appreciated the quality time with him. 
After Felicia made a small margarita for her, she started asking how it was going with Johnny from the Bioethics course. Everyone’s chatter dropped considerably because everyone was interested in the prospective relationship in bloom with the Johnny Storm. She stuttered before clearing her throat, clearly embarrassed. 
“It’s fine. I mean, he’s really sweet of course. And fun-” 
“So have you guys hooked up?” Felicia cuts off. Peter smirks before looking to her for her response.
She feels her stomach flipping at his sudden attention to her answer.  
She plays it off before responding, clearing her throat. “Yeah,” she shoots a grin meeting with the eyes across the room before the room erupts in a light cheer. 
“We’re actually gonna see eachother again this weekend and go to his place in the city.” She smiles to herself in excitement. She bites the bottom of her lip as her friends shoot quirked up eyebrow glances her way. 
“Well let’s celebrate! You're gonna get some from THE Johnny Storm! Bottoms up!” Felicia announces. The rest of her friends follow suit as she tries to laugh off the burning up of her cheeks and ears, not realizing the news of her sex life would be this exciting. 
Peter bitterly smirks before taking a swig of his beer. He didn’t understand why this was such a big deal that Felicia practically had to make a show of it. 
He also didn’t understand his annoyance and attempted to play it off. It increasingly became hard as the questions advanced and she continued blushing, describing the last few dates with him. Peter’s ears particularly perked up at the study date she had with him, finding out that she had canceled on him for Johnny through this. 
Peter felt a twinge of disappointment in his stomach at this, not knowing if it was friend jealousy or something more. He knows he can’t be exactly mad, since the hangout they had planned was usually offhand, and he more often than not skipped out on those due to Spider-Man activities, simultaneously lying. He couldn’t blame her for eventually reciprocating, but for a boy? He hadn’t felt that let down by her since she admitted to him she thought his Bugle coworker Eddie Brock was cute. 
Peter took another swig of his drink distractedly, causing Harry to ask if something was on his mind, but he shook his head quickly, lying to alleviate any worries from his friend. 
As the night progresses and everyone decides that they’re the perfect amount of buzzed for a game night. After a few rounds of the card game B.S., she decides Candyland would be perfect, remembering that she has the game in her room. Not wanting to get up, she asks Peter to get it for her underneath her bed while he’s up throwing away his drink. 
He obliges and turns to her room door, opening it. His eyes narrow at the picture of him and her next to her bed, accompanied by other pictures he’s taken for their group outings. His pace quickened up across the room and he reached for the frame. Peter quickly turned behind him to make sure no one was coming in to check and turned back to smile at it. He remembered this day fondly, the day they went to the state fair and won her a plushy of her favorite animal. In this photo he noticed how big she was smiling while he was only smiling at her posing happily. Peter used his spidey skills to his advantage and just played it off, to soak into her admiration when he won.
He put it back down as he sensed the footsteps coming behind the door to reveal her opening her room door confused. 
“Pete, what are you doing? Hurry up, Harry is suggesting body shots again.” She giggled before sauntering over his body standing in front of her nightstand. He chuckled at the comment before she crouched down to get the game underneath her bed. She rose back up on her feet to meet his eyes, following her. 
“You’re being a weirdo,” She said putting her hand on his broad shoulder, with a false concern in voice causing him to laugh. 
He inhaled a little before quipping. “Are you ditching me to hang out with this new guy?” His voice raised a pitch to ensure the friendliness of the inquiry, attempting to mask his genuine offense. 
She then shrugged, and face suggesting she didn’t know or care what he was talking about. It was that moment Peter officially identified his feelings as jealousy. 
“If you’re referring to the one time,” she emphasized ‘one’, making Peter feel guilty enough to hang his head low in response, “I canceled on you then yes.” She rubbed the hand she still had on him on his shoulder. 
“I’m sorry and I’ll give you a heads up next time. Now can we go so you can stop acting like such a baby?” She playfully tapped his cheeks with her palm but he caught her hand, holding it a little longer than usual. 
Peter drank her gaze onto him as his hand engulfed hers, still remaining on her face. His fingers intertwined with hers as he leaned his face into her hand. Her breath hitched at the affection he was showing and slowly removed her hands from his, worried that one of their friends would see them with the door wide open. She broke eye contact, suddenly finding the boardgame in her other hand much more interesting. 
“C’mon, let’s go,” Peter’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and soon after so did his hand as it landed on the small of her back, caressing that area lightly until he found her hand again to quickly lead them way out the room. 
The rest of the night was odd to say the least. 
Peter’s hands were always grazing hers, or finding themself right on top of her thighs. Whether it was to flag her down from the competitive streak they were both showing from the game or laughing at her reaction to one of his bad jokes, his hands were just constantly on her body. 
Similar to other instances where she felt confused by Peter’s sudden affection, she attempted to play it off, but it got to a point where it was causing her heart to beat faster and a familiar heat to form within her stomach. 
She let out a silent breath of relief that her friends began to leave, expecting Peter to soon leave with Harry. She went to the kitchen to throw food away but found Felicia looking back at her with a mischievous but apologetic look on her face. 
“What?” She raised her eyebrow, ready to exclaim at her for leaving her with a mess when she agreed to set up if Felicia cleaned at the end.
“I have plans, sorry babe, but I will cook and clean tomorrow. I promise!” Felicia then dashed out after hugging her body quicker than she could think to respond, followed by the door closing behind her. 
She sighed, slightly annoyed that out of all times for Felicia to mysteriously disappear yet again, that she had to do it the night she would clean up. Quickly, she decided to get over it, said her goodbyes to mostly everyone and noticed Harry and Peter still talking. She decided to ignore it until they would eventually make their exit and started on the dishes while they had their conversation. 
“You’re not coming back tonight man?” Harry asked, confusion all over his face. 
“No I will. Something just came up, so I'll see you later, yeah?” Peter averted Harry’s eyes and Harry understood, or at least assumed he did. Just another one of Peter’s mysterious disappearances, so he left without any further questions. 
Harry quickly said bye to the hostess of the night causing her to look up from the sink when she saw Peter still in their apartment. 
“Are you still here, Parker?” She sounded in disbelief, causing Peter to scoff. 
“Am I not allowed to spend quality time with my best friend now?” She looked up from the sink to see him clutching his heart as if he had been stabbed, making her shake her head at his dramatics. 
“For your information, I wanted to stay,” He added on. She wiped down the sink and washed her hands before walking back into the main room where he had sat on the couch, landing on the spot in front of him. 
“I believe it’s called overstaying your welcome,” She bantered, causing him to playfully push her by her shoulder. 
“Whatever,” He rolled his eyes as the silence of the apartment filled the air. They both noticed it, realizing whatever was there in her room earlier was still in the atmosphere, especially prevalent now that they were officially alone. 
“I can’t believe you’re going out with him,” He puffed, muttering it a bit low compared to his usual volume. She furrowed her eyebrows, annoyed at the insuitation. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She laughed pushing his shoulder back, mimicking his movement from earlier. 
“No not like that, I just feel like you can do better than him,” Peter let the statement roll off his tongue and she froze in response, attempting to understand what he just said. Her eyes landed on the ground, avoiding him again before she could think of a proper reaction.
She quickly shook off what she thought it sounded like, which she thought was jealousy and just took the safe, protective best friend route. 
“Should I have gotten your approval first?” She smirked, looking back up at him, reaching over to hold his hand in the safe way they always have. 
Peter took it a step farther, just like how he did earlier, and intertwined his fingers with hers yet again. 
“I think you should be with someone who’s more your type you know? A little more thoughtful,” Peter started, rubbing his fingers along the pad of her thumb. 
“He’s cool I guess, but you shouldn’t be with someone who’s so cocky,” He stated, making her laugh, causing him to laugh as well. 
“See you’re enjoying this. You want me to talk about him and beg you not to see him again?” Peter joked, causing her to gasp out as his accusations.
“Peter, you started this,” She pointed out, making his cheeks turn a few shades brighter at her acknowledgment. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you but it also just sounds like you’re describing yourself.” She comments before she could think, embarrassed at her assertion, but she knew if she didn’t call him out he wouldn’t stop it. The last thing she needed was one of her friends not approving of a guy she was seeing. 
“I’m your type?” He clocked her. She didn’t know how to react so she watched his face for any hint of how to proceed. He only smirked with a smile playing on his lips, letting her know how much he was enjoying this. 
“Oh shut up,” She smiles playfully before hitting him with her nearest throw pillow, him yelling out a whine, knowing it didn’t hurt. 
“For your information,” She started, mocking his voice from earlier. “You’re being just as cocky as him right now.” She firmly stated as he placed the pillow back in lap. 
Peter shrugged before readjusting himself to sit closer in front of her, dangerously close. It went back to feeling like 30 minutes earlier when he was all over her body. 
“Yeah? But it’s okay when I do it.” Peter teased, leaning his head on the couch watching his presence words fluster her. He could feel her heart picking up its pace and it dizzied him, knowing the type of effect he had on her. 
“I didn’t say that,” She argued back, making him draw his breath back in before egging on her claim from earlier. 
“But I’m your type,” He stated, she sighed in defeat, knowing he wasn’t going to drop it and played into it due to this. 
“I guess you are Peter,” She states lightly. If Peter didn’t have his Spidey senses on overdrive right now, he would’ve been convinced by the nonchalant act she put on right now. Instead, he respected her commitment to not allowing him to win, even when she’s flirting back. 
“Then how come you’re not going out with me?” 
What he said stunned her, she faltered momentarily before shrugging again with a smile. 
“You never asked,” She stated, a smile bouncing off of her lips watching Peter form an answer. They decided to skip over the fact that they had been friends for almost 6 years, but she knew that her honest answer was that the mere idea of him going out with her was out of the question because of it.  
Until now. 
He remained still for a moment and she fixated on where their hands met instead, wondering if they had ever held hands like this before. While she was thinking, and while Peter used his free hand to tuck her hair behind her hair, she realized the answer was never, because it had always been much more innocent. However, tonight was anything but that. 
“Can I try something?” His voice finally registered in her ears. Confused at his sudden switch, she nods. 
Peter hesitates, going in to kiss her. Peter’s soft lips connect to hers as his hand cups her face. She instinctively deepened the kiss, silently asking for Peter’s permission to do so. Their breaths began to shake from the intensity of the kiss. 
She practically lost her bearings when Peter’s hands made their way to her waist, pulling her towards his chest. She held onto his bicep, now flexed, as he hooked his hand underneath her leg to pull her around his hips where he sat. 
They were an entangled mess, Peter placing her where he wanted and her obliging, but not coming up for air as she leaned even more into the kiss. Peter chuckled in between the kisses when he eventually grabbed her hips to hover above his own. She groaned at his strength, leaning back in to attack his neck and jaw in kisses. 
She eventually started to nibble on his neck, finding his sensitive spot. He pants out, attempting to slow down her movements before bringing her closer.  
“Fuck, you’re really going in on me there,” He muttered before he forcefully plopped her onto him causing her to grind on his forming erection, grinning at his acknowledgment. Peter placed his hand on her back and pushed her closer to his chest, nose and forehead pressed against one another with only the sounds of their breathing filling the room. 
She leaned into his ear whispering lowly, “You like it.” She readjusted herself on him slightly, to grab on the waistband of his pants, tugging it down before snaking her other hand on the print straining against the fabric of his jeans.
Peter groaned, dick twitching in his pants from simultaneous surprise and arousal. He didn’t realize how different it would be sleeping with a close friend, but also underestimating how she would be in a sexual context. 
He threw his head back as she unbuttoned his pants, in disbelief of what was happening right now. When he brought his head back up to watch her movements he saw her kneeled before him on the ground, rubbing his erection through his boxers.
“Fuck, slow down,” He breathed out while pulling his jeans off. Right after, Peter raised his t-shirt right above his abs while she pulled his boxers down, cock semi-hard. 
Her eyes glazed over his body, only semi familiar with it whenever their friends went to the beach or the pool. She tried to hide her shock at he’s become exponentially toned since high school and just seemed to be getting bigger despite never actively going to the gym. She chose to pay it no mind and focused on his cock.
Mainly because she hated how attractive Peter looked right now, hair messy, shirt halfway off and looking down at her, closely watching her movements. The attention he was giving her was enough to make her want to shut down immediately. Their eye contact remained intense, both blown out with lust, both because of the compromising position the other was in. 
She maintained eye contact and wrapped her hand around his length, slowly jerked her hand around him. When he was hard enough, she placed one hand at the base of his cock and another right on top, running her thumb over the slit a few times once the pre cum came out. She looked down at the wetness pooling out from him and focused on her movements, not wanting to lose this pace he had been receptive to. He was fully erect at this point, almost bucking his hips into her hands getting him off.  
Peter was choking back his moans before he finally spoke. “Don’t be a tease,” He muttered. 
She giggled and the noise went straight to his dick, causing him to buck once more in her hands. 
Without saying anything, she placed the hand that had been on the base of his erection on his thigh and opened her mouth in an obscene way that was unfamiliar to Peter. Before he could take a mental picture of it, she slowly licked the underside of his cock up to his tip and wrapped her lips around him, her eyes never leaving his. 
He whispered a curse under his breath from the scene in front of him, realizing this was just the beginning. 
Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum that was previously spurting out and she dipped her head lower, dropping the eye contact to which Peter had a brief sigh of relief, becoming intimidated by the intimacy of it all. She shifted her focus on taking him whole and started to bob her head on him, engulfing his length with her mouth. 
He started puffing out, mumbling praises that only encouraged her. “Fuck, you’re taking me so good,” She only nodded, attempting to take him deeper while swishing her mouth around him and continuing to bob.
Peter felt a tension forming in his stomach and wanted to tell her to stop but it escaped his head as quickly as it came because of how good her mouth felt. Peter fought the urge to instinctively thrust into her mouth and just cupped the back of her head, pushing the hair out of her face as she continued to gag around him, the wet noises mixing in with his moans. 
“Don’t hurt yourself babe,” He said before moving a hand that was around her head to her cheek, making her look up at him. She bobbed her head a few more times, this time more shallowly and popped off his dick, gasping for air. 
A trail of her saliva dripped from her lips to the head of his cock making his stomach burst with butterflies from the image of how flushed, and fucked out she looked from the immaculate head she just provided him with. His heart swelled from the action and all he could do was wipe the spit from her chin and cup her face. 
“C’mere here,” He mumbled, bringing her to stand on her feet and lean down to kiss him. He kissed her rougher than the first time, presumably from the desire he’s built up from the foreplay.  She was still trying to pace her breathing and he could tell so he slowed down, but snaked his hands down to the waistband of her jeans, reciprocating the unbuttoning of her pants like she had done for him. 
She broke the kiss to replace his hands with hers and slipped them off. Shortly after she removed her top, revealing herself clad in some lacy underwear and a bra, standing before him.
“No fair, Parker,” She commented. He was briefly confused until she grabbed the hem of his shirt to remove it off of him, admiring his toned, relaxed figure in full view now. She kneeled back down on the couch cushions, her warm core hovering above his dick, teasing him as he could feel the heat on him with her knees on either side of his legs. 
He brought his hand in between her thighs, attempting to move her underwear to the side but paused at the wetness of her through the fabric. 
“So wet,” He tsked, making her smirk when he looked back up to her studying his movements. He placed her fingers firmly against her nub through the fabric, to which she grinded against, needing to feel his large fingers against her now throbbing clit. 
“Impatient, too,” He added, finally moving her panties to the side to insert a finger, making her throw her head back. She unconsciously rocked her hip forward at the penetration to which he met by repeatedly thrusting into her before adding another.
Both his index and middle fingers were fucking her, long and slender but big enough to feel the pleasure of the stretch once she had relaxed around him. Peter eventually curled his fingers inside of her and flicked his wrists while inside of her, causing her to squirm on top of him. The sounds of her wetness coincided with her moans, progressively getting more sensitive and impatient. 
“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” She hissed at him, unable to control the steady rocking of her hips on his hands. 
“Good,” He said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. He brought his other thumb to rub her clit, making her movements sputter and breathing erratic as he played with her to her finish. 
Peter felt her clenching around him more frequently and took advantage of it to thrust faster, curling his fingers back up to create more friction. She whined out at the change of pace and stimulation added onto her clit before eventually feeling the built up tightness in the lower pit of her stomach release, signifying her finish. 
She continued to clench around his fingers as he continued to finger her despite her orgasm. She sobbed at the sensitivity she began to help but couldn’t help but continue rocking her hips into his fingers, riding them once again. She resumed panting out his name, begging him for something but couldn’t form the words.
“What?” He said, barely slowing down the thrusts of his fingers. 
“Fuck me,” She responded, hardly audible from the groans surrounding the statement. 
He nods, removing his fingers from her core, making her gasp at the sudden absence of him. She made quick work of her underwear, slipping them off her legs while Peter wrapped his hand around his cock, attempting not to completely jerk off to the sight of her.
She returned to her previous position, covering her completely naked form over Peter’s, feeling the tip of him right under to her wetness. 
She sank down on him, both wincing at the feeling of each other. All Peter could focus on was the softness of being inside her, her skin, the flesh of her thighs being wrapped around him, the closeness of their chests being pressed up against each other and the brief vulnerability she was displaying by wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He felt faint at the presence of her scent while her head was tucked into his neck, combined by the steady sensation of her rocking her hips onto his cock. 
“Peter,” She moaned. 
“Yeah?” Peter was hardly taken out of his thoughts, answering automatically as he grabbed onto the flesh of her hips to control at the speed he thrusted into her from under. 
“You feel so,” She groaned before continuing “So fucking good Pete. You feel fucking amazing inside of me.” She finished before plunging down faster onto him, making him look at her mouth agape.  He could feel her clenching even harder and more frequently around him, combined with her wetness from the previous orgasm and just from sucking him off, it was almost too much. 
Peter looked down to see where they connected and saw his skin glistening just from her arousal, and felt even more turned on. 
“You’re gonna kill me,” He stated mindlessly, still in awe of how sexy she looked right now. In Peter’s point of view, he struggled with deciding what to focus on. 
The way her tits bounced in front of his face, the way her ass and thighs felt when they smacked on top of his thighs repeatedly, causing the the jiggle of her body to be even more apparent, or how fucking close she was holding him. She alternated from both her hands clenching into his shoulders, or one hand on the nape of his neck and another pulling on his brown curls. 
A bonus was how she sounded moaning his name and a string of praises for how he made her feel. 
Of course, she noticed this. 
“You like that don’t you?” Her voice caught his attention, barely realizing she was actually asking him a question
“What?” He breathed out, sounding just as fucked out as he looked, the sweat of each other making his hair stick to his forehead. 
“When I say nice things to you,” She obliged to Peter’s physical request of her to slow down, which was him just forcing her movements to stop by the way he grabbed her. 
“Mmm,” He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes and threw his head back on the couch, avoiding her quizzical stare. 
“C’mere,” She said, pulling herself forward by pushing her weight on his shoulders and rising from his, now aching, cock. 
Peter’s attention was caught, he shook his head in disbelief of her and opened his eyes, still hanging low to hide his irritation that her heat wasn’t surrounding him anymore.
“You’re so cute when you’re upset,” She fake pouted, then proceeded to giggle. Peter didn’t want to find it as cute as he did but he couldn’t help himself. 
“You really are a fucking tease, you know that?” He growled before grabbing her by her thighs to lower herself back onto him and raised his hips from the couch to fuck her on his own pace. The force from his strength caused her entire body to rock from each thrust, but she relished in it, moaning out praise for how good it made her feel. 
“Peter,” She yelped at a particularly hard thrust. “Just like that,” Peter’s head spun at this. 
“Yeah, keep doing that, please,” She begged, fucking begged, Peter to maintain the force he had brought upon her. It was then he knew he played right into what she wanted when she taunted him for his praise kink. (He was then making a mental note of how well she knows him and how he’s probably just a little predictable.)
Peter was practically drooling to see her come apart on top of him like this, he threw his head back in the pillows once again to enjoy the view and moved one of his hands to her clit, putting pressure on her, bringing her closer to her orgasm. 
He felt it building up by the way she clenched on his cock and couldn’t contain his moans any more. 
“Moan, please I wanna hear you when you cum inside me,” She commented once he let a particularly loud one escape his lips. He was both shocked and embarrassed at the effect she had on him, because he almost came apart immediately at the invitation to cum inside her. 
“You sure?” He whined, trying to bring her to finish before him.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there with you,” She said, finding his other hand on her waist and intertwining his fingers with her. 
“Please?” Once those words left her lips he was finished. He instantly came inside her, her following right after. 
Their orgasms swept them both away, sensitivity coming right after as she struggled to detach herself from him. Peter didn’t allow this and continued to fuck her through both their orgasms, relishing the pain and the pleasure this decision came with. 
Her head was back in the crook of his neck when their movements slowed down and they had to catch their breaths. 
Once their hearts reached a normal rate and they removed themselves off of each other, Peter broke the silence. 
“Are you still going to see him?” He asked rather timidly. She didn’t understand the sudden shyness but decided not to comment on it. She shrugged in response before answering honestly. 
“Probably,” She averted eye contact with him, looking at where their hands connected, ignoring their full frontal nudity because this was somehow more vulnerable. 
Peter’s heart dropped, he wasn’t expecting that response, nor his reaction to that response. Without thinking about the weight of what he was going to say next, because he hadn’t been doing much of that tonight, he continued. 
“What if you go out with me instead?”
She looked him in the eyes again before responding. She didn’t know what she saw in his eyes. It was a mixture of fear, desire and hope. 
Then, it was her turn not to think before she responded. 
“Like on a real date?” She realized how that sounded when she said it aloud. 
Peter nods, knowing what she meant. 
“I meant what I said about us,” He paused, watching for her reaction. She hung onto his words, encouraging him to continue. “I want to go out with you and if I’m your type then what’s stopping us?” He joked. In her head this was so unsurprising because it seemed right up his alley to joke about some offhand comment she made before they literally had sex and laughed, because of how predictable her best friend is. 
“Well why didn’t you say anything before?” She inquires, shaking her head at how ridiculous he sounded. She studied his features again before he answered, watching him turn a few shades of pink. 
“I didn’t want to mess anything up. I don’t fuck my friends you know.”
“Up until now,” Peter smirked at this comment, she was always so quick to rival his own quips. 
He let the silence simmer before responding because he wasn’t sure just how she felt about this, him, or what they just did. He was afraid he had permanently damaged the friendship and wasn’t sure how he was gonna come back from it if that were the case. 
So, he asked. 
“Is it weird now?” He spoke barely above a whisper. 
“What part?” She had to ask before she could answer. 
“That we did it backwards.” He exasperated, feeling unsure of himself now that he had to verbalize what he meant. 
She shrugged again, this time affectionately, not wanting Peter to get frustrated with her or himself. 
“Maybe it can be a good weird,” She affirmed his anxiety by clarifying. 
Peter’s stomach erupted in butterflies. “Yeah?” He raised his eyebrow in excitement. 
“Yeah.” She bit her lip before leaning in to kiss him once again. 
His hands dropped back down to her waist to bring her in closer as the certainty between them was solidified.
A/N: okay so when i was writing this i imagined comic book f4 johnny storm especially bc of the dynamic he has with peter in the comics (spideytorch my beloved) but when my friend reviewed this she asked if it was chris evans and while that wasn't the intention that made it so much better so just clarifying it wasnt on purpose but if you did that i hope it was fun
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equalheart · 1 year
Text
his hoodie
𓆩♡𓆪 — tasm!peter x gn!reader (but could also be any peter!), fluff (like ew cutesy type of fluff), established relationship, kinda suggestive-y joke?
“Are you really wearing my hoodie right now?” Peter can’t hold back his smile when you come down the stairs. You’re wearing his zip up with some shorts, and one of your t-shirts underneath—something so simple yet he can’t stop staring. “Yeah, is there a problem?”
He chuckles at your teasing tone. “No.. no problem at all. I really like it” he stutters over himself while wrapping one arm around your waist, and you don’t hesitate to put your arms around his broad shoulders. “I really like it too.” you smile as he leans into a kiss, smiling inbetween.
He hums “you should wear my clothes more often, you look great.” You pull entirely off of him. “I don’t look great always?” You fake a scoff and turn around. “Hey, hey, woah. We both know you look great always. Maybe my clothes make you look extra great. Seeing you in them makes me feel great.” You turn, notice a tint to his cheeks and he grabs your waist again. Your hands sit on his chest.
“Let me make you feel extra great.” You mutter on his lips, leaning into another kiss.
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bcyhoods · 10 months
Note
LOVEFOOL 💌 — “you feel like home to me” with tasm!peter PUH-LEASE I ALREADY KNOW IM GONNA GET EMOTIONAL
muah ha ha. angsty spidey is my favorite spidey, how did you know | 0.9k
warnings: injuries, brief mention of reader being used as leverage but no explicit/graphic detail
“I don’t know if I can do this, Peter.”
Your hand hovers over the scrape on his cheek when your gaze drops to the mask that’s clenched in his hand. He sits on the edge of your bed, looking up at you as you stand in between his legs.
He’s bathed in the dull, orange glow of your lamp. It highlights every welt, every cut, every matted strand of hair that sticks to the damp skin of his forehead. It makes your eyes sting.
“What do you mean? You’re a natural,” he says. His hand settles on your hip to give it a gentle squeeze. The gesture makes you believe for a second that he’s genuinely clueless.
But his eyes refuse to meet yours. The smile that he wears is uneasy as he wrings his mask.
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
He hangs his head low. Guilt tightens its grip on his throat making it hard to breathe.
You were already well aware of his secret identity before you’d started dating. He warned you of the risks and used them to try scaring you away before you could break his heart. But you stayed. You stayed and, god, he was so glad you did.
Though, he blames his adoration for what happened to you.
He would keep a close eye on you to make sure you were safe. His routine neighborhood watch would consist of making sure you got to and from work safely, occasionally dropping by on your lunch breaks to check on you. He was careless, but he didn’t anticipate things would go south so quickly.
The guy wasn’t a super villain, nor was he anything special by any means, but he was observant. And why would Spiderman be visiting some random bodega cashier so often unless you meant something to him?
It was practically over as quick as it started. The guy couldn’t even finish demanding his ransom before Peter had arrived to web him to the ceiling. You escaped with a few injuries, the worst being a palm-shaped bruise on your wrist. But Peter was fuming.
You were used as bait. You were leverage against Spiderman because he’d been so reckless. You got hurt because of him. You were lucky this time, but there was no telling if that luck would run out and the thought terrified him. Despite your gentle words of reassurance, he had made up his mind.
He would never forgive himself if he lost you. So he broke it off.
“I know.”
It would’ve been easier if you didn’t see each other after that. You think you’d feel differently if you weren’t frequently in his presence, nursing him back to health. Maybe if you didn’t exchange longing gazes and soft touches that were reserved for people that are more than friends. If he didn’t look at you like you held his heart in your hands, maybe you’d be stronger.
“Why do you keep coming back here?” He feels his chest tighten at the crack in your voice, even more so when you push his hand away.
“You leave your window open,” he whispers.
A scoff falls from your lips and you turn your back to him to wipe away the rogue tears that run down your face. He stares at your figure with a frown and hands that ache to reach out for you.
Peter Parker then decides he doesn’t want to be a hero. Heroes can’t afford to be selfish and put their own happiness above the wellbeing of others. Being with you would jeopardize your safety. It’d be selfish of him. He could never be with you like he wanted, craved, so long as he wore that suit. Can’t he have both?
He’s exhibited enough altruism to last him a lifetime, anyway. Certainly it was enough to hold you just for one night.
“I just needed to see you,” he sighs, voice meek.
“Peter, I think you should—”
“There’s never a day that I don’t think about you,” he interjects. He doesn’t exactly know when he started to cry. Suddenly his eyesight was blurry and he couldn’t breathe through his nose.
“Please.” The word pushes out like a sob. Your hand shoots to clamp over your mouth to hush the whimpers, but he can hear them.
“I’m serious, I…” He stands and moves to put his hands on your shoulders. His mask is forgotten on the floor. “Being away from you, it makes me feel crazy. Like I can’t breathe.”
“Don’t say that.” You turn in his hold to shrug his hands off, but you don’t try too hard. A sob racks through your chest once more when you see his pained expression. His nose is red and his cheeks are wet and his brows are sewed together. “Don’t tell me that, just go home,” you plead.
“You feel like home to me!” There’s a humorless laugh that accompanies the confession, it’s one of frustration. But the softness in his glassy eyes is unmistakable and it makes you melt under his stare.
“Please don’t cry,” he begs with a deep frown. He reaches to hold your face in his hands as he wipes the tears from under your eyes. The material of his gloves is rough and pulls at your skin uncomfortably, but you can’t help leaning into his touch.
He crowds your being. He towers over you so closely that you can feel his bated breath fanning your skin. You reach to hold onto his forearms, letting your eyes close to revel in the closeness. Peter presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, then to each of your cheeks, then your nose. He stops short of your lips.
“Say the word and I’ll leave. You know I will.”
“Don’t go,” you concede.
You’re not really sure what repercussions this will have tomorrow morning. You can’t really bring yourself to care when he kisses you.
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asterias-record-shop · 11 months
Note
bingo square: out of their league with tasm!peter using prompt 3.
i know one of the things about peter is he’s unaware of how appealing he is but i have idea stuck in my head
you and peter having been dating for a bit and you’re only familiar with his friends and vice versa like you guys know of each other and have exchanged greetings in passing but have never had the opportunity to get to know you
so when the opportunity does present itself (maybe at a party?) they’re stunned by everything they’ve learned about you and your personality basically a ‘woah our friend is great but your woah’ and he gets somewhat possessive and jealous
i like the idea of sitting on peter’s lap and teasing him until he lets you cockwarm him or the party dies down and barely anyone is there and he fucks you with his friends hearing (or watching 👀) and it ends with you leading him out the door to go home and your both marked up with hickeys and he has your lipstick on him + peter telling his friends that he knows he got lucky and how it’s something they’ll never about
—𓆩[cupid’s arrow]𓆪—
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! Rich! Cheerleader! Girlfriend! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, maybe slight angst?
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.2K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You were surprised when you found out that Peter fucking Parker was single, and you quickly fixed that. It was a surprise to everyone, especially him, when they found out you were interested in him - the head cheerleader and a physics nerd? Even then though, when a party occurs and his friends get to know more about you and think you’re so fucking cool — a wasted Peter gets jealous of how much they have your attention.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || definitely mixed up multiverses with friends, and added more || reader is reader wears makeup and revealing clothing || the nerd and the cheerleader trope has my heart || reader calls father ‘daddy’ nonsexually || party || shotgunning || reader smokes || drugs and alcohol || Peter really gets into this party mood because you’re having so much fun, therefore he gets wasted because he drinks and smokes || public groping & grinding || cock warming in public || slight voyeurism and exhibitionism? || marking kink || creampie || riding || multiple orgasms || multiple positions ||
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“I think… we should go eat here for lunch,” you suggest, looking up at him as he stares down at you, the glasses on his face falling down his nose making you giggle, pushing them up. “Sounds good, right? I know high-end isn’t really your scene, but daddy’s friend just opened it up and the sushi looks like it’s to die for.”
“I-I uhm… I think that sounds good, I just got paid so-” he paused when you started giggling, looking down at you confused. “What’s wrong?”
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“You don’t have to pay, sweetie. I don’t even have to pay, daddy has a tab there and we can get whatever we want. Besides, I have no practice today, so we have time!”
He smiled, but sighs. “When do I get to treat you, hm? It’s… it’s not fair. We always go to your house, your spots… I don’t get to do anything for you.”
You sit up, your shirt riding up your tummy and your skirt exposing your thighs. “What do you mean? Am… am I doing something wrong? I-I know I have problems with taking over things, am I doing that? I’m sorry-”
He shakes his head, quickly cupping your face. “No honey, of course not… it’s just, I don’t think it’s fair. I never get to spoil you… or bring you to my apartment or buy you lunch… Does that make you annoyed? Do I do enough for you?”
You stare at him, jaw slack before you start to laugh. “Peter! Are you insane?! I love you, I don’t care how much you spend on me, I like spending on you. I love going to your apartment, I love Aunt May, but I just like taking you to my house because we have more privacy. I like you living with me, don’t you want to move in with me? I’ve been meaning to ask you that…”
Peter pauses, staring at you. “You want me to move in with you?”
You giggle. “Well yeah… we’ve known each other for years, been dating for two… it’s not that weird, is it?”
He shook his head. “N-No, but… if I move in with you, I need to help with your bills and stuff. I’m not going to let you pay for everything.”
You laugh. “Peter, why would I let you pay for something I don’t even pay for? You… just have to stay with me,” you slowly move to sit in his lap, pushing back his hair as you giggled. “And love me. Besides, you would be the best boyfriend ever if you moved in with me.”
He hummed, nodding as he pulled you closer. “I will, honey, I will. I’ll do anything you want me to.”
You giggle, tugging on his hair. You had him wrapped around your finger, and you loved it just as much as you loved him. You pulled him closer, about to press a kiss to his lips before someone yelled his name. “Peter? Peter, oh my god, hey!”
You pulled away, smiling when you saw Gwen. “Oh, it’s Gwen. You should talk to her, invite your friends out to lunch with us!”
Peter almost groaned when he saw Gwen, Ned, MJ, and Harry walking toward them. He loved them, he did, but fuck could they leave? He was about to be kissed by you until he couldn’t breathe and your lipstick stained his lips, could they go? “Oh, hey guys!”
“Peter, we haven’t seen you in a while! Hey Y/N!” Gwen looks at you as you pull your legs under your butt, smiling at her.
“Hey Gwen! How are you guys, have y’all eaten lunch? Peter and I were just about to go.”
“Oh no, we just came from lunch, but thank you! How are y’all?” She sits down, the rest following as you shrug.
“We’re good! Peter and I were just talking about how he’s going to move in with me soon” you answer, humming. “I’m thinking next Friday. Oh, and we can have a party too! You guys should come, it’s going to be a… Peter's welcome party!”
MJ hummed. “You like to party, don’t you?”
“Oh who doesn't!” You giggled, humming. “It’ll be great! Besides, my parties are always the best, you guys should really come!”
Peter smiled, nodding. “Yeah, I know it’s been a while since we’ve all gone to a party together… what do y’all think?”
Gwen hums, looking back at everyone as they nod. “Okay! We’ll come.”
You smiled, looking back at Peter. “Perfect.”
It didn’t take Peter long to move in. Aunt May was happy he was getting out of the house, and you were even more happy to have him living with you. He was sleeping in your now shared bed every night, sometimes with his cock shoved deep inside of your cunt and twisting up your guts from how big he was.
Tonight though was Peter Parker’s Welcome Home party. He was home, finally he was home with you, where you have wanted him since you both started dating. Your now shared house was filled with sweaty teens, drunk or high off their asses as you sat with Peter and his friends in the living room, giggling along with Gwen as you held a joint between your fingers.
“You’re lying!” MJ was cackling as she clutched her book, staring at Peter. “Peter fucking Parker chased you down to ask for your number?”
“Yes!” You giggle, covering your mouth to hide your smile as Peter pressed his face into the back of your neck, slurring words into your skin before leaning into your hand and taking a long drag from the joint. “I told him he was hot at the subway station, then of course I had to catch my subway, and then he chased me all the way into the car and had to take a whole other subway to get back to where he wanted to go!”
Gwen laughs as Peter exhaled the smoke against your skin, your body hot even though so much skin was exposed in the skimpy dress you wore that barely went past down your ass and cut low on your chest, and even had a triangle piece of fabric missing from the bottom of your braless tits and lace black underwear. His hands ran along your bare skin as you giggled, leaning into his form as he started pressing lazy, open mouthed kisses to your neck.
“Peter! Why didn’t you introduce us to Y/N earlier, she’s amazing!” Ned laughed as you inhaled deeply with the joint in your mouth, mind going hazy before Peter pulled you back to kiss him.
You exhaled into his mouth, smoke flooding out from where your mouths weren’t connected and his hands groped at your tits. You groaned, humming as he took the joint from your fingers adorned with long acrylics and the base pressed to the thin satin that covered your tits.
“And that’s our cue to leave,” Gwen voiced out, everyone agreeing as you pulled Peter closer.
You groaned against his lips as you tried to turn around, desperate for more of his kisses before he pulled away, his mouth smeared with your lipstick. It was your signature color, one you wore everyday, and it looked fucking amazing on him.
You looked down at the joint in his hand, the fact the two of you were almost done with it saying something. “Want some more, spider boy?” You whisper, grabbing his wrist and taking a long inhale before blowing it into his face and licking his fingers. You hummed loudly, sucking his middle finger into your mouth like a lollipop as you take the joint in your other hand, pulling his finger down your throat before pulling away and moving to his pointer, sucking on the tip before forcing yourself to gag on it, pulling away to see the thick string of saliva. “The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can have some more fun.”
This specific joint was the one you were saving. It wasn’t Peter’s first time, mainly because it didn’t affect him, but this one did because it was of higher quality and had certain things you had disclosed to him before. You told him it was called ‘Cupid’s Arrow’, a stupid name but one that suited the joint filled with aphrodisiacs and a cherry flavored strain and he agreed immediately because of how excited you were.
You didn’t smoke very often, only on special occasions, and today was one of them.
It didn’t take long for you both to finish the joint, Peter slipping the remainder into a drink next to him as your lips continued their assault on his own, tongue pushing into his mouth and lipstick smearing all over his lips. He whined as you pulled away, humming as you tilted your head back and his mouth pressed against your neck before you gasped.
“Peter! I love this song, come on!” You tugged him off the comfort of the couch, a smile on his stained lips even though his boner was on show before you tugged him in front of you to firmly press against your body. “Dance with me, Peter.”
You’re both pushed together even closer from the rest of the sweaty bodies around you, but they knew better than to get close to you and Peter. He turned you around, his hands holding your hips as he bent his knees to press his cock between your thighs, his erection poking into your soaked panties as your hands pushed behind your head to hold his and pull him even closer.
It doesn’t take long for the drugs to actually kick in, mixing with the alcohol, your body finally cooling down as you rocked your hips back into Peter’s. He groaned loudly into your ear, hands shaking as they pushed underneath the fabric that barely covered your chest, groping and letting his fingertips swipe over your hard nipples.
You groaned loudly as you tilted your head back, your body starting to grow hot as you rocked into him with urgency, the feeling of his large, blunt tip rubbing against your pussy too much to handle. You whined loudly as he pulled you closer, desperate to feel your body against his as you groaned into his mouth when he pulled you in for a kiss. He pulled away to press firm kisses to your neck, smearing the same lipstick he had on his lips against your skin as you pulled out that same golden, expensive tube and a handheld mirror to reapply it.
His reflection caught your eye, his mouth pressing firmly to your neck and sucking against your skin while groping at your tits from underneath your dress. You tilted your head back as you slip the tube and mirror back into the waistband of your dress, eyes rolling back as his thumbs slid over your hard nipples and his hot mouth sucking against your skin made everything hazy.
Neither of you registered the people around you, your mouth pressing kisses to his cheek before sucking hickies against his jaw, slight saltiness from the thin sheen of sweat on both of your bodies. Both of you were grinding against each other like there was no tomorrow, the tip of his cock rubbing against your clothed sex making your body even hotter.
“Fuck,” you cursed, groaning as he squeezed at your tits before slowly guiding you both back to the couch where you straddled his thighs and were quick to unbutton his pants. You tugged the zipper down as you set your lipstick and mirror down on the table as he easily slipped off your underwear, throwing it to the side as you pushed yourself up so you could guide his cock into you.
This wasn’t the first time the two of you had raw sex, but it was definitely the first time you were both high off your asses. “Wait, wait,” you whisper, balancing yourself by holding his chest. “Is this okay?”
“Mhm,” he hummed, nodding vigorously. “More than okay. So much more than okay.”
You giggled as you leaned forward, pressing your lips against his as he slowly pushed his cock between your legs, letting his blunt tip slide up and down your slit before finally pushing up into you. Your head falls back, groans echoing around the room as he bucked his hips.
You felt wetter than you’ve ever been, your cunt squelching as he slowly pushed into you, his face pressed against your neck as he groaned loudly. He gasped as you slowly began to sink down on him, your pretty face scrunched in all the right ways and tears pricking your eyes made him groan loudly, his hips bucking into you.
He didn’t even know that he came until you felt something inside of you, that same sticky feeling flooding down your thighs as you groaned, attempting to push lower on his cock as he grunted. “Did you just cum?”
He pauses, looking down. “I-I think so…”
“But you’re still hard?” You whispered, ducking down to kiss his neck and continue sucking on his skin. “Guess that Cupid’s Arrow really did something, huh baby?”
He hummed, nodding. “I swear, you feel so much fucking better than I could ever imagine. I don’t know if it’s the drugs or if it’s you, but I swear I can fucking feel everything.”
You giggled. “You’re sure it’s not your spidey senses?”
He groaned, shaking his head as he held your hips and angled his own to thrust up into you with a loud groan. “N-No, my… my spidey-sex-drive is up or something… I feel everything, your pussy clenching and all of your slick dripping down my cock… I swear I can feel you stretch out with every thrust. Please, please I need to fuck you so bad.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” You whisper, one of his hands pushing up the chest area of your dress and letting your tits fall out. He pauses his thrusting, making you whine, grabbing a folded blanket to throw it over your shoulders.
“I need more. Fucking hell, I need to feel as much as I can of you, but this body is only mine to see. You’re mine.”
You groaned into his ear, gasping as you held the back of his head, rocking your hips into his to match every thrust. You could barely think about anything else but his cock ramming into you, the almost infinite feeling of riding your orgasm making your mind blurry. Have you cum yet? Peter always knew when you came, he would feel a lightning bolt down his spine and would giggle softly, but with the amount he was shaking in pleasure you didn’t know.
You could feel his cock being easily let into your deepest parts, the aphrodisiacs must’ve had something to do with loosening you up and making arousal spew from you like a fountain. Or maybe it was cum? Who knew at this point, you couldn’t think of anything else but Peter who was covered in your lipstick and hickies, his cock buried inside of you, balls deep and his cum leaking out of your pussy before he pounded it straight back in.
He groaned into your neck, gasping as another shock ran down his back, his hands slamming you down on his cock as you panted into his ear. “F-Fuck, Y/N, I can’t stop… I can’t stop my hips, I can’t stop fucking you.”
You shake your head against his neck, whimpering. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”
Your body was hot, the only relief was his cock inside of you and you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon. You didn’t care that you both were fucking mid-party, it was your house, your couch, your boyfriend. If anyone had a problem with it, they could leave.
You gasped as he grabbed your hips, flipping the two of you over so you were on your back, his hands sliding a pillow under your hips to support you before going straight back to your tits. You groaned as you pushed your hands under his shirt, the blanket covering both of your bodies as his mouth stayed on yours, barely pulling away to even breathe.
Peter couldn’t help it, whatever the hell was in that joint made him infatuated. His hips thrusted as hard as he could, desperate to be inside of you as much as he could while you rocked your hips to match his thrusts, desperate to reach a climax in your high. You had cum at least three times from what Peter could actually process, but like him, the permanent high of ecstasy wasn’t enough when the both of you needed to hit that climax.
Your moans filled his ears as the couch started to creak, his mouth hot on your neck and collarbone to mark you up as though someone would try to take you. He couldn’t stop leaving all those hickies all over your body, how could he when everyone needed to know you belonged to him? Besides, after this and everyone seeing him fuck you until you saw stars, everyone would definitely know he was your boyfriend, soon to be fiancée as soon as he found the perfect ring for you.
Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your thrusts meeting his as his cock slammed into you, wet slaps and squelches filling the room that could’ve been full of spectators — not that either of you cared.
You didn’t know when he stopped, panting above you as you hold his head and rake your fingers through his hair, admiring the mess of hickies and lipstick marks that you left. You pulled him down for another firm kiss, humming as you pulled away and he followed your lips. “We should get a dog.”
He laughed, titling his head to the side to press kisses to your neck, seeing all of his friends in the corner gaping at you both. “Whatever you want, honey.”
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