#tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

[bruisedboys]

hii!!

congrats on 6k pretty sure i binged ur entire blog like yesterday

id like tasm!peterparker and candycane 35 (from the second list)

thank you!

join the celebration!

prompt: sender  curls  up  against  receiver  in  their  sleep

tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

Peter’s very lucky you’re not awake when he gets home, because he’d definitely be scolded (lovingly, of course, but scolded all the same) for being back so late. He can imagine the pinch between your eyebrows, the downturn of your mouth, how you’d frown at him and say, baby, you need to stop staying out so late. I get so worried. But then you’d kiss him and help him clean up like he deserves it.

You don’t do any of those things. Rather, you’re fast asleep in his bed, achingly peaceful in your slumber. Peter’s heart does something funny when he climbs in through the window and finds you knocked out cold in his clothes, a big t-shirt with a Star Wars graphic plastered over the front, and a pair of his checkered boxers. Your face is smushed adorably into his pillow.

Peter bites his glove off and tosses it to the side to stroke your warm cheek with the back of his hand, fingers gentle where they brush hair from your sleeping face. You preen at his touch, leaning up into his hand, as if you know it’s him even in your sleep. Peter’s chest feels so heavy with fondness it almost hurts.

He moves away before he can get too distracted — he could watch you sleep all night if he could, but he’s super tired and wants nothing more than to get in bed with you. He showers at lightning speed, forgoes patching up the mild cut over his eyebrow (he’s sure he’ll get an earful about it in the morning, but he doesn’t really care right now) and slides into bed next to you, careful not to jostle you too much.

Still, you stir. “Pete?” You mumble, barely a word, mostly a slurred sound rather than his name. You tilt your chin up towards him in the dark. Peter can’t see your eyes but he guesses you’re awake, if the way you’re curving towards him is anything to go off of.

“Hey, angel,” he whispers. He presses his hand to your shoulder, his thumb rubbing at your collarbone. “Go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.”

But it looks like you’re already fast asleep. Peter’s gets a closer look at you and realises you hadn’t actually been awake at all. You’re still very much asleep, your chest heaving with slow and steady breaths. You nuzzle your face into his hand and bring your knees up into his side, curling up against him in your sleep. Peter feels something akin to an explosion in his chest, totally flattered at the idea that even in your sleep, you’re searching for him. He’d kiss you silly right now if you weren’t peacefully asleep. It’ll have to wait until morning.

He gets an arm around you and pulls you closer to his chest, lethargic with fondness.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs to you. He presses his mouth to your hairline in a long, slow kiss, speaking against your skin when he says, “I love you.”

You make a sound in your sleep like you’ve heard him. Peter falls asleep with his heart full.

[moonstruckme]

hi!

can i request tasm!peter meeting reader after having to do long distance?

if not thats okay! love your writing:)

have a great day<3

Thanks lovely, hope you have a great day as well!

Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 683 words

You don’t just give out copies of the key to your apartment, so when the front door opens you think you’re about to be shot. 

Breath caught in your throat, you freeze in the hallway and say the first deterrent that comes to mind. “I’ve got a gun!” 

The laughter that responds is as familiar as it is cheeky. “No, you don’t,” Peter says. 

“Jesus.” Your heart starts again, and in that split second your feet are already moving. 

Peter opens his arms as you throw yourself at him, taking your weight happily. “Nope, just me,” he quips, his harsh grip at odds with the levity of his voice. 

“Still a bad joke.” Your own voice is thick with fondness. You press your face into his neck, getting your boyfriend as close as you can. “What are you doing here?” 

“I live here.” He gives your upper back an excited squeeze. “You miss me?” 

“Not even,” you mumble into his shoulder. You go ahead and wrap your legs around his waist, and Peter chuckles, starting to walk the both of you towards your couch. “You scared the shit out of me, you know.”

“Yeah, maybe not my best plan.” He collapses downward, and you fold yourself around him more completely, getting comfortable in his lap. You think you’ll just never leave, honestly. “I thought the surprise would be more fun than scary.” 

“I could’ve met you at the airport.” 

“May would’ve killed me.” He palms the back of your neck, lips finding your hairline. “She wanted to pick me up herself, but she’s letting you have me for dinner. I have to be back by ten.” 

You let out a petulant whine. “Why does she get to decide?” 

You adore Peter’s aunt and he knows it, but when you’re having to battle her for custody of your boyfriend all that love goes right out the window. 

“I know,” Peter commiserates. “You’d think after a semester of taking care of myself in another country, I’d be allowed to stay out until at least eleven.” 

You hum, vacating your spot in the juncture of his neck in favor of seeing his face. You pet down the cowlick at the crown of his head, and Peter catches your hand, kissing your palm. A warm thrumming starts up in your chest. It’s similar to the sensation you’d gotten during your evening calls while Peter was abroad (well, your evening, his late night), but more. Better. You’ve missed feeling it like this. 

“How was Hertfordshire?” you ask. 

Peter gives you a look like you’re being silly. “I told you already.” 

“It’s different in person.” 

He smiles, thinking. “Small. Grassy. Cute, but not much to swing off of.” There’d been no vigilante work while Peter did his research abroad. He talked like it was a welcome break, but you could tell he missed it. Something changes in his look, eyes going soft and flirty. “No pretty girls.” 

You bite back a smile. “Let’s not do the women of Hertfordshire a disservice,” you chide.

“Fine.” Peter rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “None of my pretty girl.” 

He lifts his chin and you oblige him, touching your lips to his. It’s a kiss months in the making, and it heats quicker than either of you are expecting. Your heart thunders and throbs to the point of aching. You shuffle closer in Peter’s lap and his hand presses into the small of your back, both of your breathing turning harsh and desperate. 

“Missed you,” he says into your mouth. 

“I missed you more.” 

“Wanna bet?” Peter lifts you off the couch, and his casual strength shouldn’t surprise you anymore but it does. You laugh, again wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Shouldn’t we start to think about dinner?” you ask as he carries you towards your bedroom. 

He hums, reluctant. “What time is it?” 

You look to the side to check the clock on your microwave, and he kisses your cheekbone while you do. “Almost seven.” 

Peter hums against your skin, pressing another kiss to the side of your nose. “We’ve got time.”

[astermath]

peter parker is a bit of a loser skater boyfriend.

okay, he's not that much of a loser. he takes cool photos, he's good looking and he's done a skate grind on the campus staircase at least once.

and being spiderman is pretty cool too I guess.

but when he's around you, it seems like all the charm melts right off his body, and he's reduced to a nervous college student who's seemingly never interacted with a girl before.

he doesn't mean to, and neither do you, but you seem to bring out that side of him. the side that fails a skating trick every time you're looking. the side that makes him stumble over his words and almost forget his own name. the side that makes him run his hand through his hair until it sticks all over the place, and somehow he's not all that confident in his charisma and wit anymore.

and yet, every time, you offer him that sweet giggle that sends his heart into overdrive, that overtakes all his senses and makes him want to record it and listen to it on loop.

it makes him want to keep trying. until he gets the courage to finally ask you out.

[weird-is-life]

slow dancing with TASM!Peter omg🥺

Hii lovely, ty for this cute request🥰! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, kissing, mentions of wedding, (0.6k)

You and Peter are at that age, where you actually get invited to the wedding, you don't just go because your parents were invited.

So when Peter gets invited to one of his mate's wedding, he asks you to come with him as his date. Being Peter's best friend, you agree.

You love spending time with Peter, but as you spend more and more time at the romantic wedding atmosphere, you can't shake off the 'more than just a friend' feelings towards Peter.

He keeps looking at you funny, smiling oh so softly, that you think, you might get the wrong idea of Peter liking you back in your head. It's impossible not to think that way. You know it's not good for you, hoping that he has romantic feelings towards you won't end up good.

But of course, it goes even worse than the soft touches, lovely smiles, hushed jokes and the freaking compliments every few minutes. Peter's asks you to dance with him. Dance with him to a slow song!

"I can't dance, Peter. I'll just embarrass myself," you protest as Peter stands there with an offered hand.

"Please, you'll do just fine.. C'mon, I won't let you embarrass yourself I promise," Peter convinces you or more like begs you with the puppy eyes. You despite your better judgement agree.

Peter leads you to the dance floor, smiling like a fool. He's been trying to show you how he feels the entire wedding, but he hopes the dance will finally help you understand.

You put your hands on his shoulders and Peter holds you by the waist. Peter starts to slowly sway you both to the rhythm of the song, when he sees you anxiety over the dancing.

"Look at you, you are a natural at this," Peter whispers, as you move together. His compliment makes your cheeks go a little red.

"Thank you," you say sheepishly, gaze fixed on the ground, worried you'll stump all over Peter's feet.

But as you dance longer and longer, you get a bit more confident and you stop looking at you feet. You look up at Peter, only to find him smiling weirdly at you.

"What?" you ask with a small chuckle, "do I have something on my face?"

"No, it's just-...You look really beautiful," Peter tells you.

You suddenly stop dancing," Peter, y-you can't just say things like this, in a voice like that, to me." You'll die if he continues to speak to you like that.

"Why? It's the truth," he says, baffled. He honestly thinks, that there's no one more beautiful there than you.

"Pete...," you whine, but you start dancing again, " you've been killing me the whole wedding."

"With what?"

"With-With....everything. I'll get the wrong idea in my head and then I'll just end up with tears," you tell him, hoping he'll understand, that his loving or teasing (you are not sure) hints are too much for you.

"But-"

"Don't get my hopes up Peter, not tonight," you interrupt him, clearly a bit upset now, " you know, I like you and i don't understand-"

Peter interrupts your rambling. Of course, he knows you like him, that's why he's been dropping the hints the entire wedding. But clearly you didn't understand, so he has to take the matter into his own hands.

He shuts you up with his lips on yours. Your initial shock of Peter kissing you lasts only for a few seconds, before you're kissing him back.

When you pull away, he grins lovingly at you," do you understand now?"

"I think so," you giggle, feeling a bit stupid, that you didn't catch on earlier. "But I think you should kiss me once more, just to be sure...."

Peter, without hesitation, kisses you for the second time.

[forever-rogue]

Blonde!Peter request: it’s quarantine and he gets so ridiculously bored that he borderline forced you to help him bleach his hair, and when you realize “oh fuck, he’s actually really hot with blonde hair”, some steaminess occurs? However far it ends up going is up to you, but also Peter thinking it’s kinda funny and being like “I woulda done this years ago if I had known me being blonde would get you all flustered like this” because he’s a little shit

AN |  No, but blond!Peter does something for me. He’s so hot ❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Sexual References

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I am so bored,” Peter groaned loudly as he walked into the living room only to find you sprawled on the couch, watching yet another episode of another new show you were binging through. You caught his eye and nodded before moving so he could sit down next to you, “I think I might lose my mind.”

“Peter,” you rolled your eyes at your roommate, “you’re like a literal genius, surely you can think of something to do.”

“Wish that was true, buttercup,” he laid his head on the back of the couch, “there’s nothing to do - even for Spider-Man. It’s like even criminals decided to take a break and listen to the rules for once.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, slyly looking you over. His breath almost caught in his throat as he realized you were in nothing but short-shorts and one of his old shirts. He thought he’d lost that one…but it looked way better on you, “yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as he watched whatever show you’d put on, attempting to keep up with the plotline but zoning out more than anything. His thoughts kept drifting back to you, despite his best efforts. He’d always had feelings for you, despite the fact that you were off limits - you were his roommate and his best friend. He wasn’t about to throw all that away by making a fool out of himself. But, ever since you’d both been stuck together in quarantine, his feelings and urges were growing stronger and stronger. 

It was starting to be a problem. There was only so many times he could jerk off to you in the shower before you caught on. Especially when it was always your name dripping from his lips like pure, sweet honey. He cleared his throat and focused his attention back on the screen. After a bit of half-assed watching, he came up with a brilliant idea.

“I’m going to bleach my hair.”

“Peter, no.”

“Peter, yes,” there was a wicked glint in his honeyed eyes that told you he was up to no good, “and you’re going to help.”

“Absolutely not,” you rolled your eyes, “you do not need to be blond, Peter Benjamin Parker.”

“There’s nothing else to do,” he groaned and poked your side, grinning when you squealed due to your ticklishness, “and we have the stuff from when you decided you need pink hair!”

“Hey, that was necessary,” you insisted, giving him a pout, “and don’t act like you didn’t like it, Pete. I know you did.”

“That’s,” you could see the flush of rose rise up in his cheeks, “that’s besides the point! Baby, just say you’ll help me.”

“Peter,” you raised an eyebrow, “don’t call me that.”

“Come on, please help,” you both knew that you could never say no to Peter Parker. You waved him off, “I’ll do whatever you want in return.”

“Fine,” you gave in with a huff and he pumped his fist in the air, “I’ll help you.”

“You’re the best,” he leaned over and pressed a big, sloppy kiss to your cheek, “I always knew I loved ya.”

You sat there in stunned silence as he jumped off the couch and practically ran to the bathroom. Your own face reddened as you watched him go, trying not to stare at his ass and how good it looked in those stupid grey sweatpants. Sometimes it was hard to be in love with your best friend and roommate. Especially when he was hot, smart, funny, and nice as Peter Parker.

You weren’t sure how you were going to survive quarantine without something happening between the two of you. Fuck.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Peter, I need you to stop squirming and stay still,” he was seated at the edge of the tub as you tried to brush through his thick locks of hair. You could tell the boy, with all his energy, was already getting impatient at having to sit still for so long, “it’s not my fault you have stupidly thick, gorgeous hair. You sure you wanna ruin it, bub?”

“You like my hair, huh?” you didn’t even have to look at his face to know that he was smirking, “it’s not gonna ruin it…right?”

“I mean it won’t ruin it,” you gently dragged the brush through the last of his hair, “but it’ll damage it and take a minute to get back to how soft and healthy it is. You are bleaching it after all.”

“Am I going to end up with straw hair?” he teased and you couldn’t help but snort at the comment.

“No,” you promised as you crouched down and brushed a few stray locks out of his face, “I’ll take good care of you, Pete.”

He raised an eyebrow at your little innuendo and your entire face flush with warmth, “you’ll take good care of me, huh?”

“Your hair,” you quickly corrected, “I’ll take good care of your hair.”

“You can do whatever you like to me,” Peter had never been one to be shy with his affection around you, but you’d never been ready to cross the line from best friends to lovers. But Peter, among other things, was a patient man - a horny but patient man, and he was willing to wait for you. 

“I’m gonna mix the bleach now so we can start,” you stood and pulled out of his grasp as you busied yourself on the counter with making the right mixture for his hair, “just sit for a few or run around and get your energy out now.”

“Well then,” he practically bounced up and ducked out of the bathroom, “I’ll be back in less than 10!”

“Peter-”

But he was already gone and down the hall, evidenced by the slam of his bedroom door. Odd. But you decided not to question him; you knew better than to question him. Maybe he was just gonna do some exercise in his room for a few moments. You shrugged to yourself as you grabbed the developer and packets of powdered bleach. 

Little did you know that Peter was in his room, pulling his hard cock out and jerking off before going back to you. He was surprised you hadn’t noticed his little problem when you were crouching right in front of him. But he needed to take care of it if he was going to survive you putting bleach all over his hair. Your gentle touch, your warm scent, your tits almost in his face, all of it made him harder than he cared to admit. His plan was to quickly get it out of his system and think some of the worst thoughts possible while you were all over him.

“Fuck,” he groaned quickly, hoping you didn’t hear the slick of his hand on his cock. It didn’t take long for him to almost spill in his hand. He pictured it was your smaller hand wrapped his cock, with your pretty, smart mouth opened to catch his cum on your tongue, “you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Fuck, baby.”

It wasn’t long before he spilled onto his hand, stuffing his fist into his mouth to keep from moaning too loudly. He didn’t need you to hear him whimper your name right before he came back for you to bleach his hair. 

He cleaned himself up and steadied his breathing, trying to compose him before going back out to you. Once he was sure that what he had done wasn’t too obvious, he went back into the bathroom and felt his heart rate pick up immediately. You’d changed into another pair of tight little shorts and an old, ratty t-shirt of his that you didn’t need to worry about getting bleach. You were too beautiful. 

“You ready, Pete?” you turned to him with a sweet smile, and damn. He felt his knees grow weak as he sat back down in his little designated space. He’d fought criminals, was a certified genius, but seeing you in those little shorts made him malfunction. 

“Y-yeah,” he managed to choke out as you pulled on a pair of plastic gloves.

“I’m gonna start with the length and then the roots come last, okay. They develop faster and if we do this first it won’t be even with the rest of your hair,” you explained as he nodded like he actually comprehended a word you were saying, “if it starts to burn or you feel uncomfortable let me know, yeah?”

“Okay,” he closed his eyes as you started to put the bleach in his hair. He figured that maybe if he didn’t watch you, he’d be able to keep himself from all of his fantasies of you. 

You worked slowly and methodically, singing softly under your breath as along to the music you’d started playing from the small bluetooth speaker. After a few songs he instantly realized that you were shuffling the playlist he’d made for you. Oh. He had it bad for you.

It seemed like an eternity until you were done, making a satisfied sound as you looked at his head full of bleach. You grabbed the plastic bag you’d brought in with you and wrapped it around his head, “gotta let it all meld together for a bit. It’s gonna feel hot, okay? But if it gets to be too much, let me know. I think leaving for about forty-five minutes should be fine, then you can wash it off. We’ll go from there…your hair isn’t too dark and virgin so it should take easily.”

“Thanks babe,” he relaxed and grinned when you didn’t correct him on the nickname, “I’m sure it’ll be great. I owe you.”

“What’re friends for?” you teased as you pulled off the gloves and started to clean up. You felt his eyes on you, knowing he was checking you out, but decided to ignore, “go and relax, Pete. I’ll be done here in a few. Put on a movie or something.”

He made a small sound before padding his way into the living, a flurry of emotions coursing through his veins. You were already the best parts of him, held the biggest place in his heart, but you were making this so difficult. He wanted nothing more than to just-

“Hey,” you walked back into the room and plopped down on the couch next to him, “what’re we watching?”

“I just ugh…the Office?” he asked lamely as your face lit up. Of course he’d pick your favorite show. You gave him a cheeky little wink before making yourself comfortable. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to focus on the screen. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The timer on your phone went off and startled both of you. Neither of you had been watching the show very closely, both hyper aware of each other’s presence, “alright Pete, time to go shower! So, wash the bleach out, shampoo, and then use my deep conditioner. That should take care of it nicely.”

“Alright,” he grinned, excited to see the results of your hard work, “I’ll be back eventually!”

“If I’m asleep by the time you get back,” you poked a finger at his chest, “don’t blame me. You’re the one that decided to do this late at night.”

“I would never,” he wrapped his long, slender fingers around your wrist before giving your hand a small squeeze, “well, I’ll be back as blond Peter soon!”

“Dork,” you laughed, a sound that went straight to his heart, as he ran into the bathroom. You yawned, rubbing at your tired eyes before deciding to lay on your bed as you waited for him. Unfortunately, you were fast asleep within minutes, unable to keep your eyes open any longer. 

“Babe,” he stepped into your doorway, his features softening when he spotted you all curled up and snoring lightly. He pulled back your blankets before picking you up effortlessly, without waking you, and tucking you under the covers. He smiled as you buried your head into the pillows, unable to stop himself from pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “good night, buttercup.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you woke up, you found the early morning light streaming in through the gap in your curtains. You yawned and stretched, enjoying the popping of your stiff joints as you realized that you were under the covers. Strange. You didn’t even remember falling asleep or tucking yourself in. After rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you slid out of bed and walked out of your room in search of coffee. Since you couldn’t go to your favorite cafe at the moment, you’d taken up learning to make all sorts of coffees at home. A pick me up was exactly what you needed right now. 

But as soon as you made it into the living you stopped dead in your tracks. There was Peter Fuckin’ Parker, sitting - manspreading - on the couch as he casually read a book, and sipped a cup of coffee. Not only that, but he had a head of bleached blond hair, which and you hated to admit this, made him look fine as hell. 

He must have heard the hitch of your breath along with the quickened beating of your heart because he looked up and gave that golden boy smile that made your knees almost buckle. How did he not only look amazing with his natural hair but so disgustingly hot with the head of blond hair. 

“Good morning,” he closed his book, which you quickly spied to be Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? as he gave you his full attention. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but your mouth ran dry, “you alright? Cat got your tongue?”

“Pete,” you blinked a few times and tore your gaze away before you got too lost in those glittering honey eyes, “the blond worked out. L-looks great.”

“Yeah?” he stood and walked over to you, running a hand through his newly bleached locks, “you think so?”

“Of course,” you swallowed thickly before moving past him to go into the kitchen. Maybe you could get out the feelings of frustration you were feeling on making a fancy iced coffee, “you always do.”

He followed you into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his strong arms crossed over his broad chest. You could feel him watching your every move intently, but you tried to ignore it as best as you could, “you know I woulda done this years ago if I had known me being blond would get you all flustered like this.”

“Peter,” you turned around and he was right there, his big brown eyes on yours, refusing to leave or back down, “I-I’m not flustered.”

“Why are you lying to me?” he whispered, reaching up and touching your face, bushing his knuckles over your cheek, “I can hear how fast your heart is beating…I can smell you.”

“Pete…” he set his hand flat on your chest, just above your heart as he felt it beat rapidly under his touch.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he backed you up until you were pressed against the counter and looking up at him with wide, doe eyes, “you don’t want to make a mistake. But baby, just give this a chance. You gotta know I’m in love with you, right? That I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. I know you’re scared, but give me a chance, sweetheart. You’re fucking breaking my heart, looking like you do everyday, smiling that pretty smile, using that smart mouth…”

“Peter,” you put your hand on top of his and gently pulled it away from your face, “I…I’m scared.”

“Of me?”

“No,” you shook your head, “scared that if we don’t work out…I’d lose you. I don’t think I could live without you, Peter.”

“That won’t happen,” he leaned in so his face was close to yours, his lips almost brushing against yours, “I promise. I’ve always been yours, baby, even if you didn’t want to see it. But if you don’t want this, really don’t want this, just say it and I’ll leave you alone.”

You could feel his warmth fanning over your lips, and you knew what he was saying was true. You closed your eyes for a moment before nodding ever so slightly, “I’m yours.”

That was all it took before he crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you sweetly and softly at first. When you were left dizzied and breathless, you pulled back and looked into his eyes, seeing that soft, dopey smile on his face. He put his hands on either side of your face before he pressed gentle kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and nose before stopping back at your lips, “say it again.”

“Peter-”

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours,” he didn’t hesitate for a moment before he effortlessly picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He was kissing you with a fervent hunger, years of pent up emotions being released all at once. He was carrying you to his room without removing his lips from yours. He tenderly laid you down on the bed, surprisingly gentle and reverent in his movements. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he held himself over you, strong arms caging you in and nudging his nose with yours, “I’m so in love with you.”

“Yeah?” your soft little question had his heart practically melting.

“Yeah,” he laughed softly, kissing you lazily.

“I’m in love with you,” you promised softly, “with brown or blond hair. But I gotta admit, Peter, you look so fucking sexy with the blond.”

“I knew you’d like it,” he grinned wolfishly, “my pretty girl.”

“I have one more question for you now…”

“Anything.”

“You gonna fuck me now?”

“With pleasure.”

[luveline]

good morning (at least in my time zone) jade! for hurt/comfort requests, could i maybe get peter putting together a little self care day for r because she’s burnt out from finals week? i hope you’re doing well ily 💜

i love you!! listened to honeybody for this!! peter and his adoring but burnt out gf

"Why are you home?" you ask. 

Peter grins at you, a near lavish smile, leaned up against the doorway of your bedroom expectantly. "If you want to break up with me, there are nicer ways." 

You rush to slip out of your shoes and practically throw yourself at him. If Peter's surprised he doesn't show it, lifting you easily up into his chest, your socked feet struggling to keep purchase with the rug. 

"I missed you," you say. You don't mean to, but it's the truth.

Peter noses at your hairline. "I missed you. Glad we're not breaking up." 

You huff a laugh against his cheek. He smells amazing but nothing like he usually does after his nightly patrols. There's a distinct lack of perspiration, only the warm stick of his deodorant and cologne. You kiss his cheek, the corner of his mouth, heart racing with excitement. It's not often you get him all to yourself. 

You kiss him again and pull away. "Never. But seriously, why are you home? S'it my birthday?" 

Peter takes a step back, unveiling the many different things spread out across your bedspread. You tear your eyes from him, wind-whipped and handsome and grinning, and feast your eyes on what he's done. 

There's a basket's worth of different things in a range of colours, mostly skincare, your usual face wash and moisturiser, a green tea toner, serums, stuff you didn't even know Peter was aware of. 

"What's all this for?" you ask, eyes widening when you spot new pyjamas nestled at the top of the bed near the pillows. You turn to him with a glowing smile. "Pete?" 

"You haven't had time to yourself in ages. Or you haven't been making it, with finals coming up. Figured you couldn't avoid it if we did it together." 

"Oh," you say, noticing that some of the things he's bought he's bought in pairs. Two sheet masks, two new pairs of socks. "Did you get yourself new pyjamas, too?" 

He unzips his hoodie. Where usually you'd expect the spider-man suit, you find only a shirt that matches the one he's purchased for you. 

He's expecting your second hug, arms opening wide. You fall into them.

"You're my favourite person on the planet," you declare, rubbing his collarbone with the side of your head. 

"You're mine, bub." His voice is sweet and light, riddled with laughter, and his hands reflect that where they rub up and down the length of your back. 

"All yours," you say agreeably, burying your face in his neck. 

[spyderlady]

An ‘A+’ but at what cost?

(gif by acclaimedvoid)

note: omg so this is my first ever fic (that im actually posting here lol), a teeny tiny one shot i was itching to write, hehe. loosely based on what i, as a final year uni student, has been going through lately. now im sad because i do not have peter, sigh, anyways enjoy! feedback is very much appreciated but please don't be mean <3

ꗃ pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

ꗃ warnings: toxic academic validation, mention of skipping meals, mental breakdown but mostly just fluffy peter ♡

ꗃ word count: 936 words

summary: academic validation seeking reader has a breakdown but peter is there to comfort her <3

─────────── ୨ ♡ ୧ ────────────

A very soft sigh escaped your lips as you gazed out of the window. The Professor was going on and on about a very important topic in the syllabus that you had already covered prior to this lecture. You had blocked out his voice, it was like a simple muffle. The fight with Peter in the early hours of the day was what occupied your mind. You had completely indulged yourself in your academics these past few days, which resulted in skipping meals, lack of sleep and isolation from your boyfriend. He decided to confront you regarding your self-destructive behaviours which made you lash out at him. You were working so hard to attain perfection, but at what cost? You loved him and you knew damn well he was right.

You liked to stay ahead when it came to your academics, but that's exactly what had brought you here; exhausted, burned out. Peter was right, it was toxic; treating yourself this way, pushing yourself so hard. But you knew this day would've come, someday, it was inevitable. You were absolutely weary and miserable, all you wished at this moment was to go home, to see him, to be around him, to apologise to him regarding your acid tone earlier that day.

"That will be all for today. Please collect your test sheet before leaving. You are dismissed," The Professor ended the lecture, leaving the room. You slowly got up, almost dragging your sore body and picked up your backpack, slinging it over one shoulder carefully. You collected your test and exited the lecture hall quickly. An 'A+' as usual. It didn't surprise you, honestly, but it didn't enlighten you in the slightest either. An 'A+' but at what cost? You sighed before shoving the test in your backpack and leaving campus.

It was chilly outside, the leaves were painted in shades of warm hues, fall had arrived at New York. You shuddered, the thin cardigan wasn't doing you any favours. You quickly paced out the gate to make your way to the subway, but as soon as you turned around the corner, you saw him. His big doe-eyes locked on you through his glasses. Warm, filled with welcoming, comforting affection that you desperately needed at this very moment. A soft smile appeared on his lips as he took in your image. He pulled the wired earphones out of his ears and quickly walked over where you stood frozen.

"Hey, love," he whispered, gently cupping your cheek with his warm hand. His long thumb caressed your flushed skin.

"Peter, I'm so sor-" your lips quivered but he cut you off quickly by placing his thumb on your lips.

"I know. You don't have to say anything. I sensed that you needed me so I had to come. I cannot see you this way, suffering, being miserable," he replied.

A tear rippled down your cheek as your mouth shivered under his thumb. You removed his hand gently to speak, "I- I just...I should've listened to you but the thought of perfection, the thought of being the best consumed me so much that it blinded me and I-"

"Shhh shhh," without letting you speak anymore, he cut you off again, grabbing your arms tightly and pulling you closer. "I know, those grades, I know they matter to you. But you, you matter to me more and you're smart so you must understand that. You are already the best, my most perfect Y/N. You do not need a random letter on a piece of paper to prove anything to anyone, my love."

Your face had reddened at this point, completely soaked by the stream of tears racing down your checks. Peter had cupped your face with both his hands now, his skin felt cool against your burning one. He wiped your cheeks with both his thumbs. Peter was always so nice to you. When you were around, that's what mattered to him the most. And he would go to any lengths to see you at your best.

"You will be the best but not at the cost of your well-being. You must sleep a minimum of 6 hours, eat three fulfilling meals and indulged yourself in a hobby everyday. Do you understand?" he said, in a demanding voice.

You had nothing to say, you knew he was right and you were gonna listen to him because he mattered to you more than those grades. You loved him and you felt guilty for not showing your affection as often as the warm, mushy feeling you had when he was around.

You sighed and nodded, your lips curling up in a mellow smile. He smiled as well and leaned down, placing a warm kiss on your lips. And then another and another till the two of you were out of breath. You realised how much you missed this while you hyperfixated on your academics. You craved this so much. This, him. He truly made you feel alive.

He had so much pride in you, it was showing on his pretty face. On top of that, he was giddy because he was successful in his plan. Overjoyed, he asked, "So...how about we start with grabbing coffee and donuts? Oh, and plot twist, you cannot say no," he smiled smugly, it almost turning into a smirk. You just nodded with a smile.

"That's my girl," he whispered, leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Let's go," he added, tightly intertwining his slender fingers with yours, almost as though he wasn't gonna let go of you any time soon or ever.

[websterss]

𝐓𝐎𝐌!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒:  ‣ A Leap of Faith. ✻ ‣ Memories Remain. ✻ ‣ Nonexistent. ✻ ‣ Screw Fate. ‣ Unexpected. ‣ You Could Be Twins. 

𝐍𝐖𝐇 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: ‣ Can’t Catch A Break.   ‣ My Atlantis, We Fall. ✻ ‣ Unforgettable. 

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: ‣ Coming Soon. 

𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒: ‣ Peter being oblivious to your feelings. ‣ Peter gets mad at Fury for shooting you with a dart. ‣ Being able to only see Peter when you sleep. ‣ Peter being a werewolf | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4. 

𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒:  ‣ Coming soon

𝐍𝐖𝐇 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒: ‣ The One. ✻

𝐏𝐒𝟒!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒:  ‣ Coming soon

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: ‣ First Impressions. 

‣ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎: 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒

[bruisedboys]

…..tasm!peter x shy!r. yes. but……i imagine peter gets really excited for you when you do things for yourself like a dork. like ordering for yourself or asking for help at the stores finding something. it’s so basic but peter knows you struggle so he just gets really excited 4 u.

screams and cries!!!! he’s so lovely I’ve died. why would u do this to me aerial

shy!fem!reader 0.7k words

Peter’s nowhere to be seen. He said he’d only be a minute getting strawberries from the fruit aisle. He’s been more than a minute. And now you’re stuck in the freezer section wondering where on earth they keep the ice cream cones, and why on earth they’re not next to the ice cream.

A worker is stacking tubs of ice cream not far from you. Normally you’d get Peter to ask for help, or he’d just do it for you without you having to ask. Either way, Peter’s not here. And your ticket to finding the cones for ice cream night with Peter is standing halfway down the aisle from you.

You take a deep breath and bite the bullet, striding up to the worker before you can psych yourself out.

“Um.” You clear your throat. Your heart is pounding. “Excuse me?”

The worker turns to look at you. She makes eye contact with you and you forget to speak for half a second before remembering what you’re doing.

“Um, sorry to bother you.” You offer an awkward smile. “But could you tell me where the ice cream cones are?”

“Of course,” she nods and smiles. “They’re just in aisle three, with the toppings.”

You smile at her, relieved that you haven’t muddled your words or embarrassed yourself too much. “Thank you so much.”

You turn on your heel, hot faced, and walk about two steps before you bump into something tall, firm and Peter shaped.

You gasp and almost stumble backwards, but Peter gets his hand around your elbow before you go falling to your demise.

You look up. Peter’s grinning wide, his fingers curled around your elbow.

“Hi, pretty,” he says. His hair is falling into his eyes. He’s got a punnet of bright red strawberries in his other hand. He’s so lovely it makes your chest ache.

“Hi,” you beam. “I found out where the cones are.”

“I saw that,” he says knowingly, nodding behind you towards the worker you’d spoken to. His hand pushes down to your forearm and squeezes. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

You give him a look like you’re not totally adored by him right now. Like your heart hasn’t just swelled twice as big. You pretend to be offended.

“Were you standing here the whole time?” You ask him, eyebrows raised.

He has the decency to at least pretend to look guilty.

“Well …” He rubs the back of his neck. “Not the whole time. I came right when you were asking her and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You huff. “Right.”

Peter lets go of you and steps back. It only lasts about a second. He takes one look at you and changes his mind. He throws his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. He’s smiling so big you’re worried he’ll get stuck like that.

“What?” You ask, giggling and flustered from his attention.

Peter makes a happy noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, and wraps his other arm around you until you’re circled in his hold. His punnet of strawberries squashed between his hand and your back. He hugs you so tight you can barely breathe, his arms like bars around your shoulders. You can’t say you care.

You’re breathless as you giggle into his chest. “Pete, what—?”

“I’m so proud of you,” he says before you can finish. You can hear his smile clear as day. He’s so earnest, so happy for you, it makes you dizzy. He dips his head down so his lips ghost over the skin behind your ear. It’s far too intimate for a grocery store. You’re too busy trying not to breathe too fast to care.

“Really, baby.” He’s murmuring into your skin and you can feel every word, goosebumps erupting underneath his lips. “You’re spectacular.”

“Pete,” you manage, hardly breathing. You push at his chest, your hands squashed between him and you, until he gives in and pulls away.

“Yeah?” He asks, head tilted like a puppy. His eyes are so bright is blinding.

“Let’s, um.” You take a big breath and try to slow your pounding heart. It doesn’t work. Peter notices too, you can see it in his smile that he knows how much he affects you. “Let’s go get the cones, yeah?”

“Okay.” Pete grins so wide his eyelashes kiss. “But can I have one more hug first?”

You indulge him. For his gain only, of course.

-

[moonstruckme]

Heyy

Can I request something fluffy with tasm!Peter where the reader refuses to kiss him cause she's coming down with a cold (definitely not me projecting myself into this) and peter doesn't care cause he loves her kisses sick or not

Thank you for your writing *lots of hugs*

-🔮

Oh no, hope you feel better soon lovely! Thanks for requesting <3

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 633 words

“Baby.” Peter’s trying to sound serious, but he’s giggling, chasing you about as you try to evade him. “C’mon, just one.” 

“No!” You dodge his hands, dashing around the bed to put something solid between you. “This is for your own good.” 

“I don’t care.” He pouts. “Listen, I’m gonna get sick anyway. Why delay the inevitable and deprive me in the process?”

You give him a hard look. “You’re not going to get sick if you keep away from me.” 

Peter scoffs. “Babe, please. That’s not happening.” 

You cross your arms. “You don’t want this cold,” you reason with him. “It hasn’t even set in all the way for me yet, and I can tell it’s gonna suck.” 

He softens. “That’s what I’m talking about, sweetheart. There’s no way I’m not going to take care of you while you’re sick, so why bother with this? Let’s just cut to the chase.” 

You hesitate. It really isn’t easy to resist him, looking so soft and kissable with his hair all ruffled from the wind outside and that slight pout to his lips. He’s making his eyes extra big to get to you, you know it. But you’re trying to spare him. 

You start to shake your head, but Peter makes to dash around the bed, and you do the first thing you can think of to avoid him, diving under the covers. 

Peter chuckles darkly, and you feel him crawling on top of you, his hands prodding at your form through the fabric. 

“Bad idea,” he tuts. “I’ve got you right where I want you now.” 

“Shut up,” you say, but you’re unable to keep from laughing as his fingers find your side, making you squeal and squirm away from his touch. “Stop! All you have to do is leave me alone for a few days, and then I’ll get better and we can kiss all you want.” 

He hums disapprovingly. “You’re asking too much of me.” 

He straddles you, hands climbing toward the top of the sheets. You curl your fingers into the fabric determinedly, tensing in anticipation of his attack, but then Peter hesitates. 

“Honey,” he says, voice softening slightly. Even though he can’t see you, you narrow your eyes, mistrustful of this change in mood. “You’re only not kissing me because you’re getting sick, right? Like, if you weren’t, you’d want to?”

You hesitate, bemused. “Of course,” you say slowly. 

“So you’re cheating both of us by holding out, huh?” 

You only scoff, but apparently that’s enough confirmation for Peter, because he uncovers you with one good tug of the sheets, tearing them from your grasp. 

“Great, just wanted to be sure.” He holds you in place with a hand at your jaw, pressing his lips to yours with a smack. 

“Peter!” you huff, glaring up at him, but he only pats your cheek consolingly. 

“There we go, baby, I’m all contaminated,” he says satisfiedly. “Now will you give it up and let me be close to you?” 

“Not if it means rewarding your lack of self-preservation,” you grumble, but Peter only rolls his eyes, smiling at you like you’re silly. 

“If you’re asking if I’m always going to want to take care of you when you’re sick, then yes,” he says. “Not sure there’s anything you can do to stop me, sweet thing. I know it must be awful, though, to have a boyfriend who loves you and your kisses so much.” 

He’s trying to guilt you. It’s working, your eye roll nothing more than performative as you warm to the idea of letting him take care of you while you ride out this cold. Peter can tell, grinning down at you smugly. 

“Kiss?” he asks, all but batting his eyelashes at you. “Please?”

This time, you oblige him.

[confused-pyramid]

We'll Be Okay

pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

summary: A series of snapshots through your relationship with Peter.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (f!receiving), slight bondage, angst, andrew garfield's puppy dog eyes

Peter was watching you again. To his credit, he was being more discreet than usual, but you could always tell when his eyes were on you. Sneaking a glance down the hall, you hid your smile as you watched him try to 'act natural', which somehow always landed him in the same position: staring at the closed door of his locker.

You grabbed the textbook you needed for your next class and zipped your book bag, before walking down the hall towards him. You had been waiting for him to buck up the nerve to make a move on you, but sometimes you just had to take the initiative yourself.

He had gotten so into his cover that he almost didn't notice when you sashayed right up to him, your undone hair flipping over your shoulder.

"What are you doing Friday?" you asked abruptly, giving him a pointed look.

He didn't seem to hear you at first, but after realizing it was you, he snapped to alert, stammering, "Huh, what? Wait-"

"Friday," you repeated, enunciating a bit more as amusement started to seep into your expression.

His mouth fell open slightly, but then he nodded quickly, so entranced by you that he couldn't seem to remove his eyes from yours. "Friday? Oh, nothing, nothing at all." 

"Perfect. Pick me up at 7."

You spun on your heel and strutted past him, looking straight ahead as you left him to piece together what just happened. It took him a moment, but once he finally regained his sense of self, he cursed under his breath and called out, "I was gonna do that myself."

You turned back slightly, a smirk creeping onto your face. "Sure you were."

***

It was 7:30pm on Friday, and Peter was officially thirty minutes late. You had been waiting outside of your house for just as long, and after your Dad came outside to check on you for the second time, you had about had enough.

You stood up and stuffed your phone in your clutch, climbing back up your porch steps, when you heard the rustle of footsteps down the street.

"I'm here!" Peter's voice announced frantically from across the sidewalk as he appeared in a hoodie and jeans. "I'm so sorry I'm late."

Your brow furrowed with irritation, but his disheveled appearance transformed your annoyance to concern. "Peter, are you doing okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his breaths coming out in pants, like he'd been running. "I'm great. Well, not great, because I made you wait for so long. Which I'm so so sorry about, did I say that?"

"You did," you said slowly, still trying to decide if you were going to forgive him. He seemed pretty apologetic, but you didn't know him well enough to know if this was just an act.

"Okay, good," he said sincerely, his big puppy-dog eyes melting what was left of your will. "I really want to take you to dinner...if you'll still have me."

You let out a long breath, before rolling your eyes good-naturedly. Without a word, you held your hand out and he took it with a wide smile that made you laugh.

Peter was thanking every greater being he could think of as he led you down the street and into the city. He had no idea how you decided to forgive him, especially considering the fact that you still had no idea why he was late tonight.

He suspected you thought he simply lost track of time, or maybe even forgot about the date, but those scenarios were almost less fathomable to him than what actually happened. 

He had been on his way to pick you up when he heard a woman scream in an alleyway, so he had (albeit begrudgingly) pulled on the Spiderman suit and saved her from being mugged. He would've only been a few minutes late if the woman hadn't suddenly passed out in his arms, forcing him to swing her to the nearest hospital on 7th and 48th. 

But now he was here with you, and you looked so beautiful he could cry, and your hand was so warm in his, he never wanted to let it go.

"I'm assuming we lost our reservation," you said jokingly, but he could hear the note of sadness in your voice that cut him to the core.

"I have something better," he told you, his eyes searching yours as you nodded back at him. "Let's turn here."

He led you into the city and to a tall building that he assumed was owned by some New York corporation. All he knew was that its rooftop housed a manmade garden that felt like the perfect viewpoint for a starry evening like tonight.

He was about to point out the building when you glanced around, your stomach rumbling quietly. "Do you wanna get some food first?"

Shit, all the stupid plans for the garden and I forgot food.

Peter rubbed a hand over his face, groaning. "I'm such an idiot, I forgo-"

You cut him off with a bright smile. "Let's get hotdogs! There's a place I've always wanted to try, but never got around to."

"Are you sure?" he asked, feeling shame wash over him again as he took in your pretty sundress. "We can go somewhere nicer. I'm sure something's open."

"No, it's okay," you smiled genuinely, grabbing his hand and leading him to a hotdog stand around the corner. "My dad says their relish tastes like how it felt when the Yankees won the World Series."

He laughed, the sound a low rumble in his chest, and pulled out his wallet. "Wow, must be some hotdog."

He bought one for you and one for himself, covering both in every topping on the menu. When you finally followed him into the office building and up the elevator, you were floored by the view that greeted you.

"Peter, this is incredible!" you gasped, your words garbled as you chewed the huge bite you just took.

He laughed, his eyes drifting over to land on you as always. 

The stars reflected in your eyes as you took in the skyline before you, delighting in how the lights were always on somewhere. The city really never slept. 

"Thank you for bringing me here," you whispered, your voice coming out like a contented sigh. "I've lived here my whole life, and I've never seen the city from this high up before."

"New York is always better from above," he said wistfully, as if he was thinking about something far away. "The city can't hide in plain sight. You can see the good and the bad, but at least it's real."

You turned to look at him, surprised by his vulnerability, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw his eyes. His big, brown eyes.

His body started to lean in closer, and it almost felt like he wasn't doing it consciously. Like he was just drawn to you, two magnets with opposing polarity. 

His skin was so warm, and you could feel the heat permeating off him before he was even touching you, but once his hand lifted up to touch your cheek, you knew you were done for.

His lips met yours in a soft embrace, and you leaned into the kiss, your heart doing a flip as he laced his fingers through your silky hair.

Peter's pulse was going haywire as your lips softened against his, a gentle sigh leaving your mouth as he ran his thumb along your jaw. He wanted to keep kissing you forever, but he knew it was too soon for that, so he used every fiber of strength in his body to pull himself back.

Your eyes blinked open when his lips left yours, and you couldn't help the smile that etched its way across your face. He looked back at you with the purest expression of joy and contentment you'd ever seen, before flashing you an awkward smile that had you holding back a laugh.

Turning your attention back to the view, you smoothed down your dress before sitting on the grassy platform, taking in the faded stars as Peter sat down next to you.

"How on Earth did you find this place?" you asked, your mouth parted with awe.

"Oh," he muttered, stumbling over his words, "uh, I just swung by it one day."

***

It was your one month anniversary when you found out Peter was Spiderman. It was quite possibly the most inexplicable reveal you could have imagined, especially since you had been starting to suspect something was off with him for a while. 

You were walking to school one morning, following your usual route, when you came across a particularly busy crosswalk. You were running late, so, going against every advisement your father had ever given you, you rushed into the street, not bothering to look both ways. 

This was your unlucky (or was it lucky) day, and you didn't notice the car speeding towards you, the driver's attention occupied by their phone. By the time you realized what was about to happen, it was too late, and you squeezed your eyes shut in some effort to shield yourself from the impact...which never arrived.

Instead, you were suddenly lifted into the air, a strong arm wrapped around your waist as you swung across the street, air whooshing past your ears.

You could barely hear the scream that ripped out of you as you flew past the office buildings on either side, and you didn't open your eyes until your feet were carefully dropped to the ground.

The first thing you saw was a flash of red and blue as the lean form of Spiderman shot a web into the air, preparing to swing away again.

"Wait!" you called out, stopping him in his tracks. "I need to thank you!"

He leaped down from the building wall, his feet landing much more gracefully than yours did. You waited for him to say something, but when you were met with silence, you spoke up again.

"Well, thank you," you said awkwardly, unsure of how to properly convey your gratitude. "You saved my life."

He nodded, clearly antsy to continue on his way. You didn't want to keep him longer than he wanted, so you just dipped your head and said, "I should go. But thanks again."

You turned away, smoothing down your clothes and hair, and were about to walk off to school when his low voice sounded from behind you. "Be careful around here. I can see everything from up above, but it can be harder to see the bad guys on the ground."

His voice was gruff, as if he was trying to make it deeper, but what struck you the most were his words. They sounded almost familiar, but you couldn't place them.

Glancing back at him, you nodded once more and headed down the street, his statement pinballing around your brain. You were almost on the school grounds when most of the adrenaline had left your body and the significance of his words finally clicked into place.

***

Peter was late. He would take saving your life over no detention any day of the week, but he couldn't afford to be too late to your shared first period, lest you notice something awry.

But for once he had underestimated you. All through class, you didn't meet his eye, and once the bell rang, he raced into the hall after you, but you were no where to be found. Dejected, he stuffed his things into his bag and headed down to his locker, but before he could make it, he felt a hand grab his and yank him into the janitor's closet.

"What the-"

He cut off when he saw your face in front of his, your expression sharp.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked with a smirk, trying to lighten whatever trouble he was surely in.

"Don't joke," you said sternly, making him close his mouth. "Tell me the truth, Peter."

He faltered. "About what?"

"Don't," you shot him a look, "make me smack you, Parker."

You looked so certain that he knew nothing he said would make you change your mind. "How did you know?"

You shot him another look, this one less angry and more disbelieving. 

"Okay, so I wasn't exactly subtle about it."

"Why didn't you tell me you're Spiderman?" you asked, your voice smaller than before. "I mean, you have a double life, and you literally made a suit, and I've just been in the dark."

He pressed his lips together, reaching across the small space that separated you. "I didn't want you to get hurt. Trust me, I've been on the verge of telling you for weeks."

"You better not lie to me ever again, Parker," you said sternly, your lips forming a small pout.

Peter pulled you into a tight hug. "I won't. Believe me, I won't."

"Even if you did," you mumbled, your face pressing into his collarbone, "I'd just figure it out again."

He laughed, giving you a quick squeeze, before letting go to open the door. "I have no doubt you would."

He let you out before him, pulling the door closed, but then you turned back, your brows furrowed quizzically. 

"Does this mean you know how to sew?"

***

Three months into your relationship, your only fights had been related to Spiderman. More specifically, whenever Spiderman invaded Peter Parker's life. 

It was a chilly evening when you heard a tap on your bedroom window. Your room was on the second floor, and there was only one person who it could be, so you shook your head with a laugh and called out, "You know you can use the door, right?"

You didn't get a response, so you turned around to see Peter, battered and bruised, as he struggled to hold himself up against your stoop. 

You gasped, rushing to the window and wrenching it open, before helping him into your room.

"What happened?" you asked, your throat tightening with tears as you catalogued every bruise mottling his skin. "Are you okay?"

"I'm great," he breathed as he lowered himself to the ground, his voice gruff. "I just really wanted to see you."

You pressed your lips together, trying to hold back the pain and frustration that was brewing. "I'll grab the first aid kit."

You returned with bandages and an ice pack to find him flopped onto your bed, his head swallowed by your massive pillows. He helped you peel off his suit and then held the ice pack to his cheekbone, which was slowly turning a deep shade of mauve.

You were biting the inside of your lip as you surveyed the damage, and you were so focused that you barely felt it when Peter's hand came up to cup your cheek.

"Baby, I'm fine," he said, his voice trying to be reassuring.

"I know!" you burst out, before taking a deep breath and controlling your tone. "But there will come one day when you won't be."

Your voice broke slightly at the end and Peter felt like his heart was breaking with it. He didn't know what to say, but then he saw the wetness in your eyes overflow, and he reached forward by pure instinct.

The bruises along his ribs screamed out in pain, but he pushed it down, gathering you in his arms and pressing his face into your neck.

"You keep putting yourself in danger," you continued, your voice slightly muffled through your hair. "I'm terrified all the time."

Pulling back just enough to see your face, he swiped his thumb across your cheek, wiping away the tears. "I'm sorry. I know it's dangerous, but I've helped so many people. I can't just stop when people here need me."

"I know, Peter!" you said frantically, your eyes widening slightly. "But I fucking love you and I can't bear to see you hurt!"

Wait, did you just-

Despite the situation absolutely not calling for it, he cracked a smile, unable to stop the grin eating at his face. "I wanted to say it first."

You snorted, the wetness in your voice still audible. "Well, I always did have more game than you."

You let out a small shriek as Peter grabbed you around the waist, pulling you against his body as he fell back on the bed. His rumbling laughter vibrated against your chest and you extricated your arms from his to gain some leverage. Pressing against your covers, you pushed yourself up into a sitting position until you were straddling his waist, his hands resting lightly on your hips. 

The laughter slowly faded from his eyes as he caught sight of your tongue darting out to wet your lips, your eyes never leaving his.

"I love you too," he said suddenly, realizing he hadn't said it back yet. "It was never a question."

Being careful not to push against his bruises too much, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, a soft sound sighing out of your mouth as he brought your bodies closer together. You didn't want to hurt him, but he didn't seem to care, and instead flipped you over, his long form arching over yours as he peppered your jaw with kisses that left you breathless.

Peter couldn't believe this was all real. He couldn't believe you felt for him even a semblance of what he felt for you, but now that he knew you did, he never wanted to let go of you. 

Sliding his hands down your body, he splayed his fingers across your lower back and lifted you up slightly, trying to get you as close as humanly possible. With his suit half-off, you were much more clothed than he was. He fidgeted with the hem of your top until you nodded, gasping against his mouth.

Yanking the top off a bit harder than he meant to, he heard the distinct sound of tearing fabric as it landed in a heap on the ground.

You pulled back slightly, mouth agape, as he shot you an apologetic look. "Peter Parker, you better buy me a new shirt."

"I'll buy you anything you want," he whispered, pressing wet kisses to your pulse and the sensitive spot under your ear.

The heat from his mouth had you practically vibrating, and you completely forgot about your torn clothes as you pulled down his suit the rest of the way, revealing his sizable bulge.

Your mouth watered with anticipation and you got a little too excited, pressing your palm against him as he ran his tongue down the valley of your breasts. He was unhooking your bra when he suddenly pulled back, a pained expression on his face.

"Y/n, baby, please," he gasped, leaning his forehead against yours. "You gotta stop that if you want to do anything else tonight."

You felt the corner of your mouth quirk up and you pulled him down for a hard kiss. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

He seemed to take this as a challenge and you let out a squeal as he pushed you to the top of your bed and tugged your pants down, your panties going along with them. 

He took his time, working his way down your body, but you were getting impatient, and you tugged his hair, trying to get him to hurry up. 

"Someone's antsy," he smirked up at you, a glint in his eye. "Don't make me use my webs."

He probably expected you to laugh or smack him, but your arousal must have shown on your face, because his demeanor suddenly changed and a hunger replaced the amusement in his eyes. "You like the sound of that, don't you?"

You nodded slightly, embarrassment creeping into the flush of your cheeks.

That was all he needed. Before you could blink, he lifted his wrist and your hands were bound to the bed frame behind you. Your back arched as you got acclimated to the new position, and Peter dipped his head between your thighs while you weren't paying attention.

You cried out, the feeling of his mouth on you almost too much to bear. His movements were precise and confident, and you found yourself wondering whether this skill had come from experience or just a natural ability.

But every thought flew from your mind when his lips closed around your clit, sucking and licking as your body writhed against him, your hands straining against the webs. 

"Peter, I want you inside me," you gasped, surprising yourself with your unabashed honesty. 

He looked up at you, arousal dripping down his chin, and his pupils blown out so his eyes looked almost black. You could have come from just the image of him staring back at you, but then his mouth met yours and you felt a renewed desire to finish around him.

"You're perfect," he whispered into your mouth as he unsheathed himself and pushed into you, his motions slow and measured.

Your hands were still bound, but his were moving across your body, his fingers dancing across your breasts and torso as he kept you writhing underneath him. His movements picked up as you contracted around him, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

"Just like that," he grunted, hitting the same spot deep inside you, as his fingers slid down to play with your clit.

The combination of his fingers and cock turned your vision black, and you flew over the edge, his name on your lips. The feeling of you squeezing him sent Peter to his release, and he gasped into your mouth, his movements unrelenting until you had fully come down.

When you finally returned to reality, the webs were gone, and you pulled him down to lay next to you, his arms holding you to him.

"I really fucking love you," he muttered into your hair, nestling against you.

He really did have a way with words.

***

It was late into your senior year when it seemed like it would be the end. You had narrowed down your options for college, and with every pro-con list you made, it looked more and more like you would be attending a university in California.

For Peter, it had never even been a question. He had always been set on going to college in New York so that he could be close to his Aunt May, and that intention had only gotten stronger after the death of his Uncle Ben.

You had been feeling the strain on your relationship for weeks now, and every time one of you brought up college, both of your faces dropped and the conversation suddenly ran dry. 

Peter came over most nights, after he had finished patrolling the streets, and one evening, on his usual stop at your window, you pulled him inside for a much-needed reality check.

"What's going on?" he asked as he pulled off his mask and settled into one of the armchairs by your desk.

You pursed your lips, unable to look at him. "We need to talk...about us."

"Y/n," he started, rising out of the chair, "don't say what I think you're going to say."

"We're going to be thousands of miles apart, Peter!" you cried out, your voice turning into a sob. "I don't want to do this anymore than you do, but we've known it was coming for a while now."

He shook his head and you felt your heart break apart. "No, I don't accept that. I love you and I know we can do this. But if you don't want to fight for us, then I'll know where you stand."

You blanched. "Peter, how could you think tha-"

He didn't wait for you to finish before he pulled his mask back on and stepped out of your window, swinging away in the blink of an eye.

***

You were heading home from your volunteer post at the local library when a streak of red swung past you, so fast you almost believed you had imagined it. 

That disbelief didn't last long, because next thing you knew, you were being scooped up and swung across the city.

A minute later, Peter gently dropped you on the roof of the building where you had your first date. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself, frowning as you turned away from the chill of the wind. "What do you want, Peter?"

He ripped his mask off, his eyes desperate. "I'm so sorry. I was...I was horrible, and I didn't mean any of it."

"But you still said it," you gritted out, your anger overruling the pain you felt at losing him so quickly. 

"I know," he admitted, his eyes swimming with remorse, "but I need to talk to you. Please let me say something."

You didn't respond and he took that as an invitation, taking your hands in his as he stepped down in front of you. "I love you, y/n. I always have. I always want what's best for you, but I also want you."

You met his eye then, seeing the sincerity that was so Peter. He was nothing if not truthful in his love for you.

"I want you too," you whispered, squeezing his hands. "Of course I do. But I also have goals and dreams and plans that I can't accomplish here."

His eyes turned down, and for a moment you were worried he was going to be mad, but then he jerked you forward and pulled you into his arms. 

This is the boy you fell in love with.

Peter ran a hand through your hair, his lips meeting your temple. "We'll be okay."

You tilted your head back to say something, anything, but he just held you tighter, pushing down the wetness in his voice. "Wherever we go, wherever we end up...we'll always be us. We'll be okay."

[beachylupin]

what should i post next?

i have a few ideas that i’ve been working on, and while they’re not ready, it’d be fun to get more motivation to work on one rather than all three simultaneously. keep in mind that i will finish all of them eventually

here are the ideas:

kind of a meet cute scenario with muggle!fem!reader and remus at james and lily’s wedding (i’ve been working on this one the most tbh)

working at family video with steve and fem!reader, kinda basic, i know, but the premise is cute in my head lol

you need help getting into your apartment so you elicit help from tasm!peter and you figure out a way to pay him back

thank you!! <33

[tatoda]

TASM!Peter Parker Masterlist

fluff ❀

angst ☾

smut ✘

i claim all this work, this is mine DO NOT STEAL

Years - peter and may come over for dinner, peter has always been mean to you from the very start, what happens when feelings are really revealed ✘ ❀ ☾

Here - you have a panic attack and peter is there to help you ❀

[weird-is-life]

My saviour

Pairing: tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Summary: Peter saves you from guy, that keeps bothering you at a party

Warnings: use of y/n, mentions of alcohol, creep not taking a no for an answer, harassment...., mentions of partying, swear words

Words: 1k

You thought, that going to your first university party to a local club with your roommates would be a good idea. But being here now, shows you, that it really wasn't.

Your roommates have disappeared out of your sight and you can't seem to find them, no matter how hard you try.

And believe me, you try hard. Because there's this drunk guy following you around and no matter how you hard you try to get rid of him, he seems to not understand that you're not interested.

You start panicking. The creep is still a few steps behind you and you don't know what to do. You stop for a second, contemplating on whether you should just start screaming or just run away.

Your train of panicking thoughts gets interrupted, when a hand wraps around your wrist. It's a soft, a little calloused hand that holds your wrist gently. Still, you flinch hard and panic even more, thinking the creep is the one holding you.

You're wrong, fortunately.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay, yeah? Just play along, okay?" The guy, or more like a boy your age holding your hand, whispers quickly to your ear.

You don't even have the time to respond or to get a better look at the boy, you just nod and swallow the lump in your throat, as the creep nears you.

The boy pulls you closer to him, putting his body in front of you.

"Can I help you?" the boy sternly snarls at the creep.

"No, I just want to talk to the chick behind you, so fuck off," the creep says back, words slurring from the alcohol.

"Oh, you mean my girlfriend?" the boy says, squeezing your hand in reassurance and you almost choke as he says it, you weren't expecting it.

"Your girlfriend? You're kidding right?" the creep chuckles dryly, clearly not believing a word the boy says.

"No, not kidding," even if you can't see the boy's face, you are 100 percent sure, that his glare must be deadly, " so you should fuck off, got it?"

When the creep doesn't immediately run away, the boy adds," get lost or I'll make you." Finally the creep gets some sense into his stupid head, when he understands, that he wouldn't stand a chance against the boy towering over him.

"Whatever," the creep mutters, turning around he starts to leave, swaying from one leg to another, drunkenly.

"Fucking dickhead," you hear the boy mutter under his breath angrily.

But as soon as he turns to look at you, there are no traces of anger on his face as he smiles softly at you.

"Sorry," he tells you," are you okay?"

You finally can get a better look at him and god, to say he's very good-looking would be an understatement. You think, he might be the cutest guy you've ever seen.

"I-I-I....I'm okay, " you let out a big sigh of relief, " thank you so so much. I didn't know what to do."

"Don't thank me, everybody would do the same," definitely not everybody, but you don't tell him that. You just give him a shy smile, you're still trying to calm your racing heart.

He kindly smiles back at you," are you sure, you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Just a little shaken up, I guess, " you confess, fiddling with the sleeve of your t-shirt.

"Do you want me to call you somebody?" You shake your head as a no.

"Really?" he asks, trying to make sure, you're really okay.

"Yes, really. My roommates are here somewhere," you look around nervously, obviously they are still nowhere to be found and you don't feel like staying here alone again.

He can see your nervousness, he would be kind of bad at his job, if he didn't notice little things like this.

So he ask you sheepishly and too nicely, "would like to get a drink with me?" He blurts it out, but when he realises how it sounds. Like he's trying to take an advantage of the fact, that you should thank him for saving you in some way, which you definitely shouldn't. He would never, ever want you to be thankful for something like this.

"I'm sorry, I mean, just like to get a soda or something, just until we find your friends." Oh. He's definitely too nice, he's willing to stay with you however long you need, even if you've never seen each other before, just because you're anxious and worried.

"Y-you don't need too...." you mumble, you don't want to bother him any more. Even if you'd really like him to stay with you.

"I don't mind, like at all," he gives you another one of his soft, kind smiles, that has you nodding bashfully with a smile of your own.

"Okay, great. C'mon, I'll find us something, that hasn't been spiked with an alcohol yet," he chuckles, " Oh and I'm Peter by the way."

"I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you, Peter," you tell him. And Peter's sure, he's fucked, the minute his name leaves your mouth.

When you eventually find your roommates, you are sad to say goodbye to Peter. You exchange numbers, with Peter's promise of texting you.

Which he keeps, he texts straight away. The minute you get into the taxi to head home, your phone vibrates with a new notification. You smile stupidly at it for the rest of the ride home.

Peter, totally on accident (not really), bumps into the creep as he swings home, fully dressed in him Spiderman suit.

And he maybe, but only maybe, threatens the guy, saying, if he ever again bothered any girl or anybody else at all, the Spiderman would find him and he would make sure, that the guy would rot in a prison cell for a long, long time.

And Peter did it with a pleased, menacing smile, even if he knew, that the guy wouldn't even remember it in the morning......

[forever-rogue]

tasm!peter with a girlfriend who has the same abilities as him but he doesn’t know it until she does something that gives it away!!!

AN | Ooh, I love this idea 🥰

Pairing | TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.1k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter had met you entirely by chance. He’d never believed in fate or things that weren’t able to be explained by quantifiable evidence. Despite the fact that he, you know, was bitten by a genetically modified spider that gave him superpowers. Even that he could chalk up to some level of science. 

But meeting you? Meeting you had been entirely by fate, a mixture of being in the right time and place. That place happened to be the small hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that was by his apartment. You’d been there, grabbing your paper to-go cup and turning around, only to be met with the hard wall of flesh and muscle. Luckily he’d been quick and agile enough to grab your coffee and keep it from falling or splashing either of you.

You looked up at him with big, wide eyes, a sheepish little smile on your face as any logical thought ran right out of your ear, “hi.”

“Hi,” he grinned back, a flush of pastel pink coloring his cheeks and ears, “I believe this is yours.”

“Thank you,” you gratefully took the morning pick me up and clutched it tightly in your hand, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you and wasn’t paying any attention. Glad one of us was.”

“‘s alright,” he promised, and you seemed to relax, “no harm no foul.”

“Yeah,” you agreed as you shuffled past him, shivers going down your spine as you brushed against him, “thanks again. Have a good day.”

“You too,” he held up his hand in a small little wave. But before you could actually leave, he gently grabbed your arm and stopped you, catching you both by surprise. He wasn’t normally so…forward, “what’s your name?”

Your smile grew even more breathtaking and Peter was sure he would pass out from the sheer magic of it. You whispered your name, just enough for him to hear; he liked it. It suited you perfectly. He couldn’t help but repeat back to you, testing it out on his tongue, “what’s yours, coffee boy?”

“Parker,” he stammered nervously, amazed by the effect you had on him. He groaned and shook his head lightly, “Peter. Peter Parker.”

“Well Peter Parker,” you offered him a dreamy little smile and his heart pitter-pattered in his chest, “it was nice to meet. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “see you around.”

You’d left with only a small wave and shy smile, disappearing into the crowd of people that had the same idea as both of you, needing a morning caffeine fix. Peter wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but it was a rush of emotion that he’d never experienced before.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter sat in bed and stared at the too bright screen of his phone. He was trying not to be a total creep, but he was feeling like…well - a total creep. Once he’d gotten home after a long day of work and his nighttime extracurriculars, Peter had hopped into bed and grabbed his phone, shamelessly searching your name on Instagram. Luckily for him, you weren’t hard to find. Unluckily for him, your account was private. All he had was your name, your handle, and a small picture of you standing in a flower field. Count none but the sunny hours your bio stated, along with simple sun and cloud emojis.

Oh yeah. Peter Parker liked you already. He spent the next thirty minutes in a vain attempt to try and find a public photo of you, but came up empty handed. He was both disappointed and relieved because he really needed to get himself in check. But…as he stared at your profile, looking at the big blue follow button, he debated with himself on whether or not to press it. Once you received the request would you even remember it was him? Would you be weirded out? Or even better, would you accept? Maybe you’d felt the same dizzying emotions he had upon your first encounter. Worse came to worst, you’d ignore the request and block him, and maybe even send him a scathing message telling him off. 

He had to know. 

He quickly pressed the follow button, watching as the request sent message popped up. Peter immediately closed the app and locked his phone, tossing it onto the other side of the bed. His stomach was in knots, and his mind was racing, but what was done was done. Now he had to wait.

But fortune seemed to favor the bold and Peter B. Parker that night. Because not even minutes after he’d sent his request, you’d not only accepted his request, but sent one in return to follow him. He didn’t even hesitate to accept. While he was contemplating between messaging you and looking at your photos, you sent him a message. It was so simple, so straightward, but so very bold of you: hello there coffee boy. Peter pumped his fist in the air as he quietly whooped at the sheer stroke of luck. Either you were extremely friendly with everyone or, and he hoped this was it, you actually liked him. He messaged back just as quickly, deciding not to bother around with any games: hello sunshine.

From there, the rest flowed as naturally as a wild river, blooming and blossoming like the most perfect of flowers. You’d wormed your way into Peter’s heart so quickly, so effortlessly, and made a home there that no one else could ever occupy. You were special; he knew that from the very start. Little did he know that he’d done the exact same to you. Peter was so much a part of your life that you couldn’t ever remember him not being there. It was like he had always just been your person, your Peter. 

That’s why it killed you inside to be keeping such a huge secret from him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

To be fair - you didn’t even really understand the full extent of your secret. All you knew was that you’d been on a tour near Oscorp one fall afternoon and had gotten bit by something. You hadn’t even seen what it was, and the bite never became infected or raised or anything suspicious. You’d chalked it up to some weird little bug and never thought more about it. 

That was until you noticed the changes to your body. You’d never been particularly clumsy, but you were never as agile as you now were. And you were positive you’d never had that much strength and speed…and your senses were heightened, cuts and bruises healed way faster than they ever should have.

At first you were convinced that you were delusional; you’d lost your mind or were stuck in some kind of wild fever dream. But as time passed and life continued on normally sans your newfound…abilities, you realized that you were just as sane as you ever had been. But you’d never told anyone - after all, who were you supposed to tell that you were pretty sure you’d been bit by some kind of weird bug and you’d developed superhuman abilities? They’d have you committed before you could even finish explaining what was going on. 

So you kept it all tucked away and hidden, invisible to anyone but you. There were times when you’d almost given yourself up, but had managed to quickly explain away whatever odd thing had happened. But there would only be so many slip-ups before someone noticed that something was off. And you weren’t too keen on finding out exactly how other people would respond. 

But - that had left you wondering why you hadn’t heard Peter that fateful day when you’d met. Your hearing was extremely attuned, and you would have heard anyone else…but not him. It was odd, but you’d decided not to question it. 

You loved Peter Parker and that was all that mattered.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hi sweetheart,” Peter’s face lit up as he opened the door to his apartment to find you on the other side. You didn’t hesitate to press a kiss to his cheek as you wrapped your arms around him. He chuckled warmly as held you tightly, “good to see you too.”

“I missed you,” you murmured into the crook of his neck as he gently rubbed your back.

“You saw me yesterday,” the sentiment made his heart flutter as you flounced into the apartment and set your bag down. While your official relationship was still fairly new, it felt like you had been a fixture in his apartment and his life forever. You fit in so naturally, “can’t have missed me that much.”

“I always miss you when you’re not around Peter,” your eyes were wide and nervous, almost as though you weren’t sure if you’d crossed any boundaries with your little confession, “even if it’s only been a day.”

“Want to know a secret?” he asked softly as you nodded eagerly, “I miss you too when you’re not around.”

“Yeah?” and oh. How you melted under his expression, ochre eyes soft and glittering, looking at you as though you’d hung all the stars.

“Yeah,” he promised, his smile so saccharine and tender, “come on, wanna put on a movie while we figure out what to order for dinner?”

“Yes,” you nodded happily, “sounds perfect.”

Perfect. That’s how you would describe everything with Peter. It could be something as simple as a movie night with him and there was nothing you’d rather be doing. 

This particular night, however, was the first night you’d be spending together at his place. He’d stayed at yours a few nights, but these things were still new to both of you. You liked his place; it was a warm and inviting space and felt very on brand for Peter. 

At one point he’d excused himself to use the restroom, while you cleaned up the leftovers in the kitchen. You’d been sure that he’d come back out because you heard him clear as day, “am I being too pushy? Too much?”

“You aren’t at all Peter,” you found the fact that he still had moments of such shyness endearing. Turning around, you expected to find him standing there, but instead found nothing but the empty living room. Oh. He hadn’t been there at all. 

After a moment of hesitation, Peter ducked back into the hallway looking at you with confusion on his pretty features, “what did you say?”

“I-I said you aren’t being pushy,” you said nervously as his eyes widened, “y-you asked me?”

“I didn’t ask you,” he raised an eyebrow and your heart dropped into your stomach, “I was talking to myself. Whispering to myself.”

Your mind was reeling as you tried to figure out how you were possibly going to explain your exemplary hearing. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before shrugging lightly, “you must not have been as quiet as you thought, Pete. I dunno.”

“No,” he knew he hadn’t been that loud, “you have extremely good hearing.”

“I guess I do,” you tried to play him off, but you knew Peter better than that. He was a man of science and he wouldn’t let something like this go, “it’s really nothing.”

“Hmm,” he nodded, scratching at his chin thoughtfully, “if you insist, sweetheart.” 

“I do, Pete,” you teased, walking over to him and tenderly touching his face. Even up close, he was so ridiculously pretty, “it’s not like I’ve got some great secret to hide!”

If you only knew the truth.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a cool fall afternoon that found the two of you at your apartment, baking lots of different kinds of cookies. It was a cozy day, filled with music from the record player flooding into the room and all sorts of delicious smells. The two of you flitted around each other, almost like dancing, in perfect sync. 

It was all going well until you managed to slice the palm of your hand. You hissed as you dropped the knife and watched the blood flow freely from the cut and onto the counter. 

“Shit,” your lips trembled with effort to keep from crying at the stinging pain. Peter was at your side in a moment, looking concerned at sight. You looked up at him with glistening eyes, trying not to panic.

“Oh baby,” he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and looked at the cut with a grimace, “it’ll be okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of it.”

“Okay,” you sniffled but he managed to remain calm and collected as he turned on the tap and ran it with cool water. He gingerly took your hand and ran it under the water, to lessen the flow of the blood and get everything cleaned up, “i-is it bad?”

“It’s pretty deep,” he confirmed, already making a plan in his mind to either take care of it himself, or take you to urgent care to get it stitched up, “I think you’re going to need stitches.”

“N-no,” you tried to pull your hand out of his grasp, but he was stronger, “it’ll be fine, Peter. I’ll just get it wrapped and it’ll heal.”

“I don’t think it’s going to heal properly without-”

“It’ll heal,” you insisted sharply, not meaning it to sound as harsh as it did, “I-I heal quickly.” 

“But-”

“Peter,” you grabbed a clean cloth wrapped around your palm, “I swear. I know my body.”

He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, regarding you with a curious air. Ever since the bathroom accident, he’d become more hyper-aware of all the little things about you that were…different. Obviously, he was aware, very aware, of his own powers and abilities and if he didn’t know any better, you were in a similar boat. 

“I’ll tell you why I get so many random bruises and cuts,” he spoke softly after a few beats of silence had passed, “if you tell me what’s up with you. The hearing, the speed-healing…all of it.”

“Peter,” his name was a soft sigh off your lips. The offer alone was tempting because you really were curious to know what happened to him when he showed up with mysterious cuts and bruises. It broke your heart to see him whenever he had some sort of injury, but they always seemed to go away without any sort of permanence. 

“You can tell me anything, sweetheart. You know that,” he reached over and touched your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. 

“I know,” you nodded softly, “I want to tell you…really, I do. I just don’t want you…you’re going to think I sound crazy. I mean, it still sounds crazy to me.”

“I’ve dealt with plenty of crazy,” he smiled softly, “I doubt anything you could say or do would fall into the realm of crazy. Try me, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “but don’t laugh o-or whatever, promise?”

“I promise,” he agreed, crossing his fingers over his heart.

“Alright,” you swallowed thickly, “a while back I was…I don’t know….I guess bitten by something. It was just a small, you know, bite, but it never got infected or anything weird. So you know, I didn’t think anything of it. But then…these changes started to happen and I thought for sure I was losing my mind or whatever. But nothing ever…happened, nothing weird. But the weird things it did to me stayed. Like the hearing, and my vision got really good, better reflexes and the super fast healing too. That’s why I’m not worried about the cut - it’ll be helped soon.”

“Hmm,” he seemed so calm and relaxed that it caught you off guard. Why wasn’t he panicking? He studied intently but said nothing, only trailing his fingers gently down your arm.

“Y-you’re not…freaking out?”

“No,” he shook his head, his pretty eyes glinting in the soft light, “where were you when you were…bitten?”

“Umm,” you waved your hand around softly, “somewhere near Oscorp. I don’t remember exactly.”

“Do you know what it was?”

“No, I never saw it,” you confessed, “I just sort of assumed it was a weird bug.”

“Are you ready to hear my secret?” he asked softly and your eyes widened in curiosity as you nodded, “I’m Spider-Man.”

As soon as you heard the words, your mouth opened in surprise but he just remained there calmly. When he didn’t say anything you started to laugh; he had to be kidding, right? He had to be. But he wasn’t laughing - he just remained serious. 

“Peter,” you shook your head in amusement, “Spider-Man? Really? Y-you’re joking! Right?”

“Nope,” the corner of his mouth ticked up in a small smile, “I mean it.”

“I-is that why…all the bruises and everything?” your disbelief turned to worry as you thought about all the terrible things that could happen to him, “oh Peter.”

“Relax, sweetheart,” his hand went to your neck as he gently stroked his thumb over your soft skin, “I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I’m Spider-Man, nothing’s gonna get me. Do you want to hear my theory on what happened to you?”

“Yes.”

“I think we might have been visited by a similar…friendly spider,” he raised an eyebrow at the surprised look on your face, “I was bitten by a spider at Oscorp. They had some…to put it simply, radioactive spiders. I wasn’t born with these abilities, and apparently neither were you.”

“No,” you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. This didn’t happen to normal people - this stuff didn’t really happen period. And yet, here the two of you were, “holy fuck, Peter.”

“Yeah,” he shook his own head in amusement, “who would have thought, huh? I knew you were special - well, even before now. I…I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Peter,” you beamed at him, “hey - if you’re Spider-Man, does that make me…Spider-Girl? Spider-Woman? Wait, I don’t want to be a vigilante superhero…well, maybe? If you need a sidekick? What if-”

But he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours and kissing you softly and sweetly, leaving you breathless as he had a tendency to. When you pulled back, he smiled at you, and touched your cheek, “I love you, Spider-Girl.”

“I love you, Spider-Man,” you stole another few kisses from him, which left him practically melting into your touch. 

“Have you ever tried wall climbing?” 

“No…”

“Well, you’re in for a treat!”

[elliewlums]

𝐦𝐜𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

matt murdock

pietro maximoff

bucky barnes

frank castle

tasm!peter parker