#tasm!peter parker x self insert

[moonstruckme]

I went out with my friends yesterday cuz one of them threw a party and it was so much fun but omfg I'm so violently hung over can I pls get a fic with any of the boys and a hungover reader them just cuddling her but also being like I told u not to have that last drink....3 drinks ago

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mention of alcohol, hangover

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 443 words

Peter wants so badly to be noisy and obnoxious, but he’s quiet because he loves you. 

“Hey, bub,” he says near a whisper, crawling up beside you on the bed. “I think it’s probably time to wake up, don’t you?” 

Despite his best efforts with the blinds, insistent threads of golden afternoon light sneak in through the cracks, and you turn your face into the pillow as you moan. 

“Aw, I know.” Peter’s unable to keep the laughter out of his voice, pulling down the covers to rub between your shoulder blades. “My poor girl. Who did this to you, huh?” 

Your reply is muffled by both pillow and lethargy. “Shuddup.” 

His laugh comes out for real now. You squirm away from the sound, trying fruitlessly to burrow deeper into your pillow as Peter drops a kiss on your shoulder, bare where his t-shirt has slipped off. 

“I’ve got lukewarm water and painkillers,” he says enticingly. “Breakfast of champions.” 

Your hand emerges from beneath the covers, reaching for them. 

“Uh, no.” Peter poorly contains another chuckle as he leans away from your searching hand. “You’ve got to sit up to have it, sorry.” 

It takes time and effort, Peter helping you with a hand on your back, and when your eyes meet his amusement makes some room for pity. 

“Here you go, baby.” He holds out the water and pills. You rub your eyes before taking them, little flakes of crusted-on makeup falling onto the sheets. “Drink it all,” he says when you stop after the sip it takes to down the painkillers. “You’re dehydrated, that’s why your head hurts.” 

Your mouth puckers distastefully. “I’ll throw up,” you worry. 

“Small sips,” Peter agrees, kissing your shoulder rewardingly when you take another. You’re looking at him now, too, eyes watchful and expression stiff with some kind of indecision. “What is it?” 

You hesitate a second longer before asking, “Can we hug?” 

“Aw-w-w.” It stutters out of him on a laugh, and your face goes pouty as Peter slides his hands around your middle, hugging you sideways and resting his head atop yours. “Course we can, baby. You’re really feeling shitty, huh?” 

You make a pitiful sound, leaning into his touch. 

“Wishing you’d stopped after that fourth drink like I told you to?” 

Now your whine has more bite to it. Peter holds you tighter so you won’t leave, smiling as he kisses your hair. 

“That’s okay, my silly girl. Lucky you’ve got the world’s most forgiving boyfriend to take care of you, huh?” 

“It’d be nice,” you mutter, “if he were the world’s least gloat-y boyfriend too.” 

“Well, we can’t have it all, sweetheart.”

[backtothefanfiction]

Professor Peter Parker

Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!

Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!

Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.

First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.

You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.

You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’ 

You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world. 

You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.

‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.

You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-

“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.

SHIT!

DOUBLE SHIT!

You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!

You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?

“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.

You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ‘Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’

8 HOURS EARLIER 

“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.

“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”

He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.

“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare. 

He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.

The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”

You frown. “Why Flower?” 

“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”

“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.

“Okay, then what can I call you?”

You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”

He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”

You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”

He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you. 

You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”

An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.

You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.

“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you. 

“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.

Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.

“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.

His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.

You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.

He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.

You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.

You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.

You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”

You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs. 

His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.

His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you. 

He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin. 

He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”

You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.

When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.

“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you. 

Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.

His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs. 

His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.” 

“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.

“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.

“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.

“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air. 

He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.

His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.

“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.

“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.” 

You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged. 

It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock. 

He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly. 

You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”

His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.

You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again. 

“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”

It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.

“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you. 

With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.

He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.

You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.

The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.

“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.

“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”

You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.

He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”

You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.

“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.

You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?

________________________-

@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida

Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.

[reidslovely]

there were two things that came to mind the first being peter yelling at her and he’s never done that before so reader trying to avoids him for the rest of the day and when she does interact with him she’s silent or acting almost robotic

the second one that came to mind was them getting into a fight and her trying to quit

i see your second thought being super plausible honestly, but let’s combine them. peter is very particular about his schedule and follows it to a t for the most part. the fight started the first or second week she works for him. all over a missed appointment and she swears she wrote it down, but peter is upset because he doesn’t have time for this meeting. he’s got lab time, and a presentation today. he doesn’t have time to meet with this potential investor today.

“what do you mean you missed a appointment!” peter yelled. the slight raise in his voice shocked her as well as him. he cleared his throat and left his suit jacket on the back of his desk chair. “can you not operate the shared calendar i swear doll it’s like you’re completely helpless sometimes.”

that comment strikes a nerve, and it doesn’t help she’s already on the verge of tears from him yelling. peter’s never made her feel so small. in fact he’s only ever been encouraging. and supportive of her she wasn’t helpless, she was learning the ropes of this company still. and her boyfriend being who he was didn’t help, everyone else just assumed she batted her eyes and but her lip to the position.

“well i’m sorry pete.” she jokes dryly lightly trying not to show her hurt. “we can’t all be a super genius”

“yeah but i expected better from you.” all over a calendar

he walks away annoyed. she doesn’t know if it’s with her or the situation but the tone of his voice alone makes her sick to her stomach. she brings him his lunch quietly and doesn’t bother to eat with him like she usually does. she keeps their interaction short and firm.

“doll can you make a call for me?”

“sure.” she nodded not even looking at him as she takes the paper.

“doll.” his voice sung out later, “will you get these filed for me?” he kissed her temple hands on her shoulders squeezing. she shrugged him off nodding.

“right away mr. parker.”

he was thinking of a way to apologize. sending flowers to her desk probably wouldn’t do much and may insight a few scoffs from other employees. not wanting to embarrass her he settled on waiting till they were alone in the building to formally apologize.

but she comes into his office a few hours later before they leave to go home with her two weeks in shaky hand.

“doll..what’s this?” peter asked reading over the paper, hand reaching out for her shaking one pulling her closer to him.

“i don’t wanna work for you. i’m..i’m scared it’ll ruin our relationship.” she mumbled out tears threatening her eyes. peter’s heart swelled in his chest feeling lodged in his throat. “and i really like being your girlfriend and i love you and i don’t..i don’t want you to yell at me over a stupid google calendar.”

“oh doll..no. i was upset earlier i didn’t mean it. i wasn’t even upset at you it was just time stress.” he sat her on his knee. arm wrapping around her waist holding her in place to look at him. “i wasn’t mad or disappointed at all. i know i said something really hurtful and i’m very sorry. and i’m even more sorry for yelling at you.” she sniffled as he spoke, her hand resting on his chest flattening out some wrinkles. he whispered softly to her his free hand rubbing her side.

“i want you here. okay? but if you want to quit i understand and i won’t stop you but i’ll be sure to use my words more carefully and i will never raise my voice again. i am so sorry and i’m going to do better.”

the care in his voice made it easy to believe him, that and his big doe eyes staring into hers assuring her this was the truth.

“don’t ever yell at me again and i’ll stay.” she bargains. peter laughed bobbing his head.

“deal.”

“and i want a raise. for dealing with you here and at home” peter laughed this time throwing his head back.

“i’ll talk to human resources about the ethical standards about that.” he responds standing her up off his lap. as he packs up his office for the night.

“m.j.’s your human resources officer i think she’ll agree with me.” you hummed turning the light off as they left the room.

[bambiswriting]

We'll create these lines.

TASM!Peter x Suicidal reader

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation.

A/N: Currently feeling some strong emotions. Needed to chuck some comfort into the world.

Please, if you're in the same boat, reach out to someone. Somebody always cares.

Easier said than done, I know, but don't do what I'm doing and send yourself hurtling down a hole of believing no one gives a fuck. I'm hoping that this provides some catharsis to anyone feeling similar.

-

“I just don’t want to be alive right now.”

You’re numb enough to not feel the words bleeding over your lips. Truthfully, you haven’t wanted to be alive for a great many years. Hell, you wonder if you’ve ever cared for the whole arduous fucking ordeal. And by the look on Peter’s face, you imagine that he knows that. Or you know he knows that. Like he knows everything. The same way he knows the map of every line of those bloody lips. The lips that now fan breath across his face.

The puffs of grief-filled air hit the broken strands framing his forehead. They blow back, the same way this feeling has knocked you back, into this bed, under this blanket, where you wish the creases and woolly waves would carry you out to sea, and deposit you into the silent depths.

But Peter is with you there. He’s a rope, or a buoy, or whatever other shitty metaphors there are. He’s not letting you drown. It’s terribly hot under this blanket.

His face is three inches from yours. You counted them. Measured them according to the length of Peter’s fingers. That feeling of them massaging your scalp is one of few sensations keeping you grounded to the shore. Absently you count the number of moles on his cheeks, then a second time, to verify the result. You love his moles. You love the lines around his eyes, too. Lines telling the sun that this soul has been kissed by joy. You want to be the one to kiss them. You want to kiss the lines into his face.

You don’t realise it, but he’s inched closer. He presses a kiss over your murky eye, then the other. “I want you to.” So small. Closed the gap between your lips that he just chased for contact. “I want you here.”

You want him to be kissed by age. Joyous age. No pain, ever. You wish death upon yourself. To never have to witness his pain. But you must witness his bliss. You live for his life. You have to.

“Why…” The lone syllable is lead in your throat.

And he’s speechless. Losing the sand in between his toes. Watching it erode away. He might lose the grip on the rope. How could he tell you what that means? What you mean, to him?

“My world would go with you.”

You may live to create his lines.

[siennafrxst]

↳ mistletoe 𖤐𓈒࣪₊˚

pairing: peter parker x female reader

cw: fluff

word count: 342 words

a/n: much like my previous peter x reader fanfic, i’m pretty sure this works with any of the peters (tobey, andrew, or tom) so feel free to choose whichever you want to imagine this story with.

The snow was a beautiful clean white, the fireplace was crackling with bewitching flames, the songs were cheerful and merry, but Christmas wasn’t complete without her.

Peter gazes at Y/N, who seems to be staring intently at the window, the view being the sight of falling snowflakes and bursts of cold wind that would sway past. But, something else caught his eye. Something that was hanging on top of her—a mistletoe. That vibrant patch of green leaves decorated with dots of red that form into a perfect circle was located directly above her head. She was clever.

“Under a mistletoe?” He questions cheekily as he approaches the surprised woman.

Finally turning around, she faces her boyfriend, who had a smirk plastered on his lips. “What?”

“Why are you under a mistletoe?” He repeats.

Y/N shrugs, deciding to play along. “Oh… I’m waiting for someone.”

A look of hurt spreads across his face as he places a hand over his chest, pretending as though he had just been stabbed. “Really? Who is he? I’m insanely jealous.”

Y/N giggles at his little performance, to which he simply smiles to.

They continue to gaze out at the dark night sky, the moon glowing brightly atop of the world. It was stunning, but, something else was occupying Peter’s stream of thoughts.

“I’m glad you came,” he confesses, sincerity evident in his tone.

Y/N turns back to connect her eyes with his once more, slightly taken aback with his sudden confession. “Of course I would. Why wouldn’t I?”

Peter shrugs, letting a soft sigh escape his lips. “I don’t know, I mean, it’s Christmas eve. I was expecting you to be with your parents.”

Y/N gently grabs onto his hands, pulling him closer. “I’d rather be with you this Christmas.”

Peter smiles warmly at her gesture, appreciating her genuineness. “Me too.”

That was when they finally closed the gap and kissed each other with full of love, the mistletoe still dangling above their heads as they make this Christmas feel more special… together.

I know it’s short but this fic has been in my drafts for a while and I just wanted to share it.

[mediocre-daydreams]

five hour energy thief (one shot)

pairing: uni student! peter parker x grumpy! reader

summary: some jerk has the nerve to snatch the last bottle of five hour energy and you can’t stand his beautiful face, especially after he runs you over with his skateboard

W/C: 0.9k

A/N: also my first time writing for peter parker! we’re on summer break right now and i could not wish more that i was back on campus for fall term-- its my favorite time of the year

you were having the worst monday, possibly ever. somebody had taken your clothes out of the dryer and you couldn’t find your hairbrush this morning, meaning you were wandering campus with a slightly damp t-shirt and bedhead. you had made a cup of instant coffee last night using the last of your nesquick grounds, but had then spilled it over your library book which meant a) you had been running with noncaffeinated blood for the last 12 hours and b) that you’d have to pay a fine. you had even gone the school store before class to pick up a five hour energy, and with just your luck, some mousy-haired asshole holding a skateboard got to it before you. damn him. who even skateboards these days?

harumphing, you put in earbuds and blasted stevie nicks as loud as your phone would allow before giving you that stupid “ear damage volume” whatever message; at this point, you’d risk ear damage just to drown out your horrible day.

hands in your pockets, you cracked your neck side to side and admired the last of the red leaves on campus. fall had always been your favorite season; if you weren’t so broke, you would’ve indulged in a chai or some classic, overly-syruped seasonal drink, but you were so broke. there was nothing quite like the bite of the late autumn chill on your ears, the crunch of dry leaves under boots, or the sting of a passing breeze on your cheeks—

shit. that was decidedly not a passing breeze.

you landed ungracefully on your bottom, probably scuffing the bottom of your favorite jeans. you cursed once more. what the fuck?

looking up, you saw the hand of some lanky motherfucker extended towards you, skateboard long forgotten as he looked down with concern. his grip was firm as he pulled you up, his hands calloused but warm and wrapped snugly around yours. he also looked disheveled, but unlike you, he looked good regardless. you could just tell he’d be annoying.

“i am- i am so, so sorry. that was totally my fault. is your phone okay?” he picked up your phone, face down on the pavement, panicked. “shit! no, i mean, are you okay? i’m so sorry, i don’t usually run into pretty girls like this,” he gulped. “not that i run into people very often at all- anyways! i’m so sorry.” he dropped his head into his hands and ran them down his face, peeking out from between his fingers to give you a sheepish smile.

yep. super annoying. i hate it when people apologize. i hate cute clumsy boys.

you squint at him. “hey, you look familiar…”

“um, do i? i’m sorry, i don’t think i know you.” he chuckled nervously, eyes darting away. why the fuck is he so shifty and weird? and pretty?

“oh my god, you’re that five hour energy thief, aren’t you? from this morning? the skateboard guy who just swung in and took the last one?” you shook your head in disbelief.

“i mean, i wouldn’t say i swung in… but yeah, i guess that was me.” he rubbed the back of his neck as you shifted your weight to examine him closer. he was quite pretty, that you could admit. but there was something off about him that made you reluctant to trust him. whatever. fuck it.

you extended your hand and introduced yourself. “do you happen to know a gwen? she’s in my dorm, i swear she’s described someone like you before.”

“oh! right, i’m peter, peter parker. it’s nice to meet you, and yeah, i think i might’ve heard of a gwen. blonde hair, ponytail, pre-med?” you nod, finally cracking a smile.

“maybe i should set you guys up sometime. she seems curious,” you trail off, raising your eyebrows mischeviously. he blushes, much to your satisfaction. gwen’s gonna owe me for this one.

“actually, i’m not really close with gwen. i’m really sorry about that five hour energy though, do you think i could get your number instead? only because i feel really guilty and i want to get you a new one, though. but maybe we could coincidentally run into each other at the school store and, y’know, take the opportunity to grab something to eat?” he runs his tongue over his lower lip as he peers down at you with renewed confidence.

this arrogant bitch is a flirt! god, i hate flirts. and i hate that it’s working.

“well, considering the two times i’ve seen you today have ended pretty poorly for me, i think you might be bringing me bad luck.”

“hey, well third time’s a charm, right?” he takes a couple steps forward until you can smell his cologne on his sweater. this time, you’re the one to flush. it’s just the cold, you think. i take it back, i’m no longer a fan of late autumn.

you let out an exaggerated sigh. “alright, peter parker. give me your fucking phone.” you punch in your number and he watches you with amusement dancing over his features at your concentrated face lit by the glow of his screen. he resists the urge to toussle your hair.

“you won this time, parker. but you better make that coincidental run-in worth it, because i’m not big on fourth chances, ‘ya hear me?” he brings two fingers up to his forehead in a mock salute as he strides backwards to pick up his skateboard.

“see you, thief!”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

masterlist

[heyitsme1040]

Are you opposed to writing headcanons? If not, could you write your headcanons of what it's like to fall asleep with Peter Parker?

Hi! I'm not opposed to writing headcanons. Thank you so much to the request :)

AO3 (x)

Napping with Peter Parker [tasm]

He’d notice you looked tired from all the late nights of studying you’ve had recently. You finally finished your last final and wanted nothing more than to hangout with your boyfriend.

Peter convinces you to watch this movie he claims is his new favorite, and lays across the entire couch. 

He’d pull you down and settle you atop him with your head on his chest, facing the television, his arms settled around you with his hands gently rubbing circles on your back, and the blanket from the back of the couch draped over the two of you.

You try to stay awake, wanting to see what movie has captured Peter’s attention now. Barely even twenty minutes into the film you can no longer fight the heaviness of your eyes.

Peter had felt your slight jerks as you tried not to fall asleep, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your eyes open much longer. He’d chosen a random movie and just wanted you to finally rest. 

Once you do doze off, Peter mutes the television and tightens his hold on you slightly. He kisses the top of your head and naps with you. 

You wake up first, and are confused. The television is now off, Peter’s face is buried in the back of the couch, and he’s quietly snoring. 

You stare at his face, admiring how relaxed he looks. Eventually his eyes slowly blink open and meet your eyes, his cheeks immediately lifting into a smile seeing you looking the most rested you have in two weeks.

“How’d you sleep?” He asks groggily. / “Amazing, actually,” you smile and bury your face into his chest. 

“Sorry I fell asleep,” you mumble, “I know you wanted to show me the movie.” / “I don’t actually know what that movie was,” he sheepishly admits. / “What?” You lift your head up to look at him. / “You looked tired, and I knew you wanted to hang out and not sleep. So, I decided our afternoon together should just be us napping together,” he smiles at you with a shrug.

You can’t help but give him a kiss at that, and you can feel him smiling into the kiss. 

Once you break away, you also can’t help the yawn that escapes you. Peter chuckles and kisses the top of your head. 

“Still tired?” He pokes your cheek. / “No,” you deny as you yawn once again. / “Alright, c’mon,” he sits up under you and sets you in his lap, “off to bed we go.” / “No, you’re too comfy.” / “Baby, you’ll feel better tomorrow if your back doesn’t hurt from cuddling on the couch.”

You groan and let him get off the couch, just to make grabby hands at him. He pulls you up with an affectionate eye roll. 

The two of you walk through the apartment and crawl into bed. 

Peter immediately wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him. Your foreheads rest together, legs tangled together, and holding onto each other. The blanket pulled up to your shoulders while the two of you basked in the other’s presence. 

The night continues with the two of you tangled together, Peter’s soft snores, and your quiet mumbles. 

When the two of you wake up in the morning, Peter’s on his back with you tucked safely into his side, the sun casting lines across his face, and your eyes meet his.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

[blooming-violets]

Pinky Promise Rewrite|| Ch. 1

[TASM Peter Parker x female OC]

Summary: The fate of the one she loves most is put into the hands of a masked stranger, forever entwining their lives. 

Major Overall Series Warnings: 18+ smut, mental health triggers (ptsd/depression/panic attacks/a suicide attempt from a child/trauma), a retelling of forced sexual assault and manipulation, kidnapping of a minor

Chapter One Warnings: suicide attempt from a child, mention of a parent on drugs (heroin) and another in jail, childhood bullying and childhood depression

A/N: This is a rewrite of my very first fic on this blog. The original was written in second person. I wanted to rewrite it properly in third person and write Lucy how I imagined her instead of making her a reader insert style character. I also wanted to add some lost scenes and darken up the tones of how I originally wanted to tell this story. It’s a ten chapter fic. I know it’s going to get hardly any notes, especially as it’s a story I’ve told before, but my brain is telling me that I need to rewrite this. I can’t rest until I do. This one is completely self indulgent. If you want to give it a read, go for it. If not, that’s okay too and I’ll see you again when I post something fresh and new. xoxo Katie

Pinky Promise || Chapter One || The Fall

The heavy vibration of the phone rumbling in her pocket dragged her from distant thoughts. 

Lucy hurried to push open her apartment door, throwing her shoulder against it as it was prone to sticking, and quickly shoved her way inside. She dropped her bag of cleaning supplies on the ground and fished the phone from her apron. 

Dread filled her stomach as she caught sight of the caller id.

“Midtown Elementary Academy”

Olivia’s school. She closed her eyes and slumped against the door with a groan. Not again. This would be the fourth time this week she received a call from them and the ninth time this month. Olivia was on the fast track to expulsion if she kept this up. 

Lucy steadied her breathing, clearing her throat to sound more professional as she answered, “Yes, hello?” 

“Ms. Miller? This is Diane Fleming, Olivia’s teacher.” 

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. Mrs. Fleming always acted as if this was the first time Lucy was hearing of her. They’ve only had this conversation a million times before. Lucy bit her tongue and kept up a pleasant, nonchalant, attitude, “Oh, hello. What can I do for you today, Mrs. Fleming?” 

She listened to the exasperated tones in the older woman’s voice and knew whatever was coming next wasn’t going to be good. 

“I was wondering if you could come in this afternoon? The incidents we have been discussing have become more frequent. Olivia’s behavior is getting out of control. I think it would be best if the three of us could sit down with the school counselor and talk about this in person.”

Her nightmares were coming to fruition. Getting involved with a counselor would only spark more judgment on their little family. At 23 years old, most people didn’t take her very seriously as a caregiver. They’d take one look at Olivia, do the math in their heads, and come to the conclusion that Lucy probably had her when she was around 16. They wouldn’t be wrong except for the fact that Olivia wasn’t her daughter. She was her sister. That nugget of truth would only open up even more unwanted speculation on their lives. It was like she could see their brains churning through the questions they would never dare ask. Were their parents dead or just deadbeats? Should we pity them with sadness for being orphans or pity them with prejudice for having useless parents? Either way, they were constantly being looked down on. 

Lucy sighed, “What did she do now?” 

Olivia was struggling this year at her new school. Second grade had not been kind to her. Midtown Academy was a dream school for them. Being a private school, if a kid wasn’t from a wealthy family, then they needed to seriously impress the school board with their academic skills to have a chance at attending. Olivia was brighter than average. She was reading at a 5th grade level and had a particular knack for sciences and mathematics. Her first grade teacher was the one to recommend trying out for the annual scholarship Midtown offered each summer. It was something Lucy wouldn’t have even considered on her own. With her teacher's help and glowing recommendation, Olivia beat out every other kid for the spot. She won a full ride scholarship. A scholarship that was now hanging on by a thread due to her behavior. This was supposed to be the big break that they needed. If Olivia could succeed here, she could go on to Midtown School of Science and Technology. Her future for colleges and potential scholarships would be even brighter. It was an opportunity Lucy refused to let her miss out on. The alternative was grim compared to this gift they were given. She knew her sister was struggling but this was the best chance she had to give her a decent future. 

The student’s at this school were mean. They came from upper class families. The kind of kids who had everything handed to them their whole lives and never heard the word “no” before. Like sharks in the ocean catching the whiff of fresh blood, they could easily surmise that Olivia was different from them. She became an easy target. The tension only grew and Lucy could see how negatively it was affecting her sister. Olivia was harboring a lot of pent up anger. It consumed her soul until it had no place else to go but out. 

The call on Monday happened because, during art class, Olivia drew a very graphic picture of a classmate being brutally murdered by a man in a giant metal rhino suit. That was an interesting conversation to have with Mrs. Fleming. Lucy tried to argue that it was art class and one can not judge an artist's interpretation on their chosen subject matter. She wasn’t even sure how her sister had heard about the Rhino who once terrorized the city streets. Olivia was only a toddler back then. On Tuesday it was because, during creative writing, she wrote a horrible poem about how she wished her teacher would get paralyzed by a bus. Lucy tried to argue that the children were given a free writing prompt and that the poem was, structurally, very well written. Olivia was merely exercising her creativity and imagination, surely she didn’t actually mean what she wrote, it was nothing more than a misunderstanding. The attempt to cover for her sister was noted but not well received. On Wednesday, Olivia escalated her antics, by cutting off half her long braid in the middle of a spelling test. Lucy had no excuse for that one except that she had been meaning to get her a haircut and maybe she decided to take matters into her own hands. Thursday went by without a call, much to her relief, but it wasn’t until Olivia returned home when Lucy noticed her lip was split open and a bruise was forming on her jaw. Then it was her turn to call the school. They had a lot to say when it came to accusing Olivia of things but were very quiet when the tables were turned. They mentioned something about a brief altercation in the bathroom that afternoon but no student had come forward to take the blame. Olivia refused to talk about what happened or point any fingers. 

Now it was Friday and she was here. Another call. She waited with bated breath to hear what her little sister had gotten up to today. A hundred preplanned excuses rattled around in her head, ready to cover all her bases and, hopefully, give Olivia another extension before she got expelled.  

“Well, Ms. Miller, this afternoon, Olivia dumped a jar of spiders down the back of the young girl sitting in front of her.” 

Lucy’s eyes widened in shock. Shit. That was not something she had an excuse lined up for. How the hell did she collect a jar of spiders? Where did she even get the jar from? Why was this something that she would even think to do? The absurd imagery that came to mind was too much to handle. It was so outrageous of a thought that Lucy had to stifle a laugh. Unfortunately a quiet snort managed to push its way out through her nose. 

Mrs. Fleming picked up on it right away, “I’m sorry but do you find this behavior amusing? Olivia is a seriously disturbed child. Her behavior is unacceptable. We do not tolerate bullying in our school.” 

Any bit of humor Lucy found in the mental image of her sister carrying around a jar of spiders disappeared in an instant. Fire rose in her voice, her patience wearing thin, “What do you mean you don’t tolerate bullying? Liv came home yesterday with a busted lip and bruised face. None of you seemed to care too much about that. You acted like she did to herself! She’s 8 years old. Someone clearly attacked her in the bathroom but, because she’s a scholarship kid and not one of your elites, not a single person cared to look further into the matter. God forbid you find out that one of daddy’s little princesses beat the crap of her. You wouldn’t dare want to accuse a kid who daddy paid for the new gymnasium. It’s easier to take it out on the kid who comes from nothing because then you have nothing to lose.” 

Her anger was getting the better of her. She knew she shouldn’t let herself explode like that. Olivia’s future depended on this school. She needed to play nice but she had been working overtime lately in an attempt to manage the constant pile of bills. She should have kept a better eye on her sister. Too much work and not enough time set aside to check in on her. Olivia was slipping through her fingers. This was her fault. She was a terrible excuse for a parent. 

Mrs. Fleming sighed. Lucy could almost hear her rubbing her eyes with her hands like this entire conversation was draining her energy. “We currently have Olivia detained in the office. The mother of the young girl who was assaulted has been notified and is thinking of pressing charges. It would be best if you could come down here as soon as possible to help us figure out what the next move for Olivia should be.”

Her stomach dropped. Pressing charges? This was worse than she thought. Olivia’s school wasn’t just on the line, her whole life was. If the police got involved then social services would be sure to follow. She hated rich people. They’d have lawyers and police in their back pocket. If they wanted to press charges, her and Olivia would be screwed. 

“Okay,” she mumbled quietly, the fear evident in her voice. “I’ll come right down. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” 

Her snow boots were still on her feet, not having had any time to remove them before getting the call. She threw her winter jacket back on over her house cleaner uniform, tugging a purple knit hat over her blonde hair, and quickly hurried back out the door. Taking the five flights of stairs down to the entrance was the better option than risking the rickety, old elevator. The familiar musky smell of cigarette smoke and urine hit her nose as she barged into the stairwell. She hurried down the concrete stairs, her heavy footsteps echoing off the empty walls, and hurried out into the cold February air. The crisp chill sucked into her lungs, freezing them, and causing her to cough out puffs of misty vapor. Only this morning, her and Olivia were pretending to be dragons, exhaling breaths of smoke, as she walked her to school. She seemed so happy. Lucy never would have guessed she was secretly carrying a jar of spiders in her backpack. Weaponizing insects was not on her list of things she expected to be dealing with this week.  

Anxiety tumbled in a terrible knot in her stomach. She was failing at being a caregiver. Sometimes she thought all she had to be was kind, understanding, and loving. If she could manage that, then everything would turn out fine. Clearly, that wasn’t enough. Olivia needed help. Help that would cost money. Money that they didn’t have. She had no idea how to be a parent. Her role models were terrible. Their father was a monster. He was currently serving life on Ryker’s Island for getting involved in a drug gang run by someone with the alias Mister Brownstone. He’d help cart heroin around to known dealers and skim some off the top for his wife. Their mother was an addict and that addiction was only fueled by her husband. He liked to keep her doped up and sedated. It’s easier to manipulate people that way. 

Lucy grew up in foster care. Once she entered school, it was obvious to her teachers that something wasn’t right. There’s only so many times a little girl can come in wearing the same clothes with unwashed, lice infested hair everyday before they start to tip off social services. She bounced from foster home to foster home. About once every few years her mother would get clean, claim to have left her husband, and was trying to start fresh. Lucy would be placed back in her care. The two of them would live a happy life for about a month or so until her father would find them again and her mother would get hooked right back onto the drugs. Then it was back into the system for her. Eventually she learned to harden her heart and stop relying on parents to meet any basic needs. She could be self-sufficient. She could take care of herself. She didn’t need anyone to help her and she would make something of herself without them. 

Then Olivia was born during her sophomore year of high school. 

She knew she had a sister but she never saw much of her during her infancy. It wasn’t like she was in touch with her mother then. She tried to keep her family at an arm's length so they didn’t ruin her studies. On her 18th birthday, with five months left of high school, her mother showed up at Lucy’s door with a malnourished toddler in her arms. It was clear the child wasn’t being properly cared for. Her dreams of college, all the hard earned money she had saved, all flew out the window at the sight of her sister. Sometimes there are things in life that need to be put aside for the sake of others. Lucy’s dreams and her ideal future were some of those things. She refused to let her sister have the same life as her. She collected all the money she had, dropped out of high school, and rented a single bedroom apartment. She filed for custody of her sister. At that point, her father was already in jail, and her mother willingly signed over her rights. Olivia became her responsibility. 

And she loved it. 

She adored her baby sister. For the first time in her life, someone loved her. Really loved her. Lucy poured everything she could into Olivia. She was determined to give her the life that she missed out on. It was easier said than done. Living in the city was expensive. As a high school drop out, there weren’t many opportunities for decent paying jobs. The housekeeping job she managed to get was the best paying one she’d found so far and they still struggled to pay the bills on time. Olivia was smart. She knew she was different from the kids at her school. They came from wealth, she didn’t. She knew what her life could end up like if she didn’t thrive in this new environment. That was why it was so frustrating for Lucy. She didn’t want her sister to end up a failure. Not like her. 

The sound of sharp sirens yanked her from her spiraling thoughts. Three police cars raced by her. They were driving far too fast for these tight side streets. The wind kicked up as they passed, blowing her long hair in front of her face, and blasting her with an uncomfortable chill that cut straight through her old jacket. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and ran her icy fingers over her frozen nose. There was always something crazy happening in this city. People tend to look the other way now and continue on with their lives. If a mad scientist isn’t directly affecting their path to wherever they need to go, then it is of no concern to them. The police can pretend to deal with whatever the threat is but everyone knows it's really Spider-Man who gets their job done for them. 

Lucy watched with a mild indifference as the cop car's speed down to the end of the street. It wasn’t until they took a sharp left into the school parking lot that her throat tightened. Her limbs felt numb as the pressing anxiety constricted her blood vessels. There could be a million reasons why the police were showing up at the elementary school but none of them mattered. In her heart, she knew. 

Something was wrong with Olivia. 

Her legs were running before her thoughts even had time to process the situation. The icy sidewalks caused her boots to lose traction and she slipped forward, never losing her balance, but growing frustrated that she couldn’t run as fast as she wanted. It felt like she was trying to run in a dream, constantly being held back by an unknown force. 

By the time she rounded the corner to the school, her breath left her lungs at the sight that greeted her. The three police cars had stopped out front. Their wailing sirens were off but the lights still flashed red over all the white, blinding snow in the afternoon sun. A group of people were gathered outside. They each looked up in horror to the school roof. Bile rose in her throat as her eyes lifted to catch what they were looking at. 

Standing three stories in the air, her little black snow boots hugging the edge of the roof, was Olivia. She had climbed up onto the ledge and was staring down at the commotion below her.

The winter wind whipped her freshly cut, short, blonde hair around her face, obscuring it from view. Her skirt uniform blew around her navy tights. She wore no jacket, only her school cardigan kept her from the cold. Even from down below, Lucy could see how violently she was shaking. From fear or the cold, she didn’t know. She looked so small. So fragile. 

A piercing sob ripped out Lucy’s throat at the sight of her baby sister standing so dangerously close to the edge. It was too windy. She was too tiny. She was going to blow straight off the roof if she wasn’t careful. The sound of Lucy’s screamed cry alerted one of the teachers to her presence. He tried to make his way over to her. He tried to reach out a hand of comfort in her direction but Lucy slapped it away. They let this happen. This was their fault Olivia was up there. Someone should have been watching her. Before the teacher could open his mouth to speak, she had shoved passed him and ran straight to the front doors. She could hear someone yelling behind her to stop, that she wasn’t allowed inside, but nothing they could say would ever hold her back. 

She had no idea how to get up to the roof. This school’s layout was unfamiliar to her but she didn’t care. She found the nearest flight of stairs and dashed up, two at a time, as fast as her body would allow. Her feet hardly touched the ground before they were off again. Each flight brought her closer to her sister. As she barged up the last set of stairs, she caught sight of Mrs. Fleming, the principal, and a police officer standing next to a ladder leading up to an open hatch in the roof. They turned when they heard her heavy footsteps swiftly approaching. The melting snow on her boots caused her to slip across the laminate tiles and come to a sudden halt in front of them. 

“This area is off limits,” the officer commanded. 

“It’s okay. It’s the girl’s sister,” Mrs. Fleming quickly replied. Her eyes were filled with tears and fear was etched in every line of her face. “Olivia won’t let us get close to her. Every time we tried, she backed further away. Once she hit the edge, we had to retreat in the hopes that she would come down. She’s threatening to jump.” 

The ever pressing feeling of bile in her throat rose again. Lucy swallowed it back down.

“Move,” she ordered, elbowing them out of her way to get to the ladder. “I’ll get her myself.” 

They didn’t argue with her but the officer grabbed her elbow as she started to climb, “Be careful. Talk to her calmly and gently. Try to get her to move far enough away from the edge until she’s not in immediate danger. We have a firetruck on the way with a ladder but it’s stuck in traffic. An ambulance just arrived and is standing by if she falls-” 

The rest of his words faded into a loud buzzing sound as her hearing abandoned her. If she falls? No. Not her Liv. She wasn’t going to fall. She was going to be fine. Lucy was going to get her and bring her back safely. This was her baby sister. There would be no falling. She needed to get Olivia back into the safety of her arms. She would protect her. She would keep her safe just like she always did. 

Lucy shrugged her arm away from the officer and continued her mission. The old metal ladder creaked under her weight with each step. She tried not to picture Olivia making this same climb. She didn’t want to think about why the hatch was left unlocked in the first place. It would only fill her with anger and she needed to be level headed right now even though her thoughts were buzzing into nothing but a ringing static. Blinding sunlight reflecting off the snow shone into her eyes as she crawled her way out onto the roof. The sky was too blue, too perfect, for any of this to be happening. 

As she clambered onto shaky legs, Lucy looked across the roof. There was her sweet, little sister. Her back turned to her as she looked down at the ground below her. No more than fifty feet from her and, yet, she felt like a lifetime away. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sight. 

“Liv!” Lucy called out, her voice wavering, but trying to remain calm so she didn’t scare her into losing her balance. “Livvy, it’s me. It’s Lucy. I’m here. It’s okay, baby. I’m here now. You’re safe. You’re okay.” She took a few careful steps towards her, the ice under her feet making it hard to stay upright. 

Olivia turned around on the ledge. Her legs shook unsteadily under her. Her lips were blue and shivering. Her cheeks were stained bright red from the wind whipping around her. There were tears spilling down her face. She looked so broken. So scared. All Lucy wanted was to run straight to her, scoop her up protectively in her arms, and carry her far away from here. 

“They want to take me away!” She shouted back. Her tiny voice got lost in the whistling wind drowning her out. “I heard them talking when I was in the principal's office! Ashley said they were going to put me in jail for what I did. She said I was no better than my daddy. She said I would never see you again!” 

Lucy’s heart broke at hearing the pain in her sister’s voice. She guessed that Ashley was the one who got spidered this afternoon. There was no time to contemplate her absolute hatred for that kid. She could save that rage for later. Olivia was more important. Lucy took another tentative step towards her, trying to carefully close the gap between them without being obvious. 

“No one is going to take you away from me, Olivia. I won’t let them. Please,” she begged. “Please, Livvy, I need you to carefully step down, okay? I need you to let me come get you and I will take you away from here.” 

As Lucy took another step forward, Olivia inched back. Her heels now hung off the side of the building. A collective, horrified gasp echoed from the people below. Someone began shouting in a megaphone up at her. The voice got muffled against the howling wind and only added to the stress happening above. She could see the panic start to rise in Olivia’s eyes as they darted back and forth, looking for a way out, but finding none. 

She shook her head with a pained cry, “Stop it, Lucy! Don’t come any closer! Leave me alone! Just leave me alone…I want everyone to leave me alone…please. Please.” Her shoulder shook with quiet sobs. 

Despair and desperation filled her heart, “Okay! Okay! I won’t come any closer! Just stop moving! You need to stop moving, Olivia! I’m begging you. Don’t move. Stay still. We can talk about it as long as you stop moving.” 

Olivia wiped tears from her eyes, her bottom lip shook uncontrollably, “You don’t know anything, Lucy. You don’t know what it’s like to go to this school. I hate these people! I miss my old school. I miss my friends. They were nice. They were like me. Not here. Not these kids. They’re all horrible!” She hugged her wool cardigan tighter around her small frame. “I want to disappear. Go away. Leave me alone. Let me go away.” 

She was breaking her heart with every word. Lucy took a deep breath to try to calm her nerves. All she needed to do right now was get her off the ledge as quickly as possible. She’d say or agree to anything if it meant having her sister safe in her arms again. “I hear you, Liv. I hear you, okay? But I’m not going anywhere. I am not leaving. I am never leaving you. You’re my world, Livvy. I need you to come down so we can talk about this. We can’t have this conversation up here. It’s too cold. You’re going to freeze. You don’t even have a jacket. Come down and I’ll bring you home. I’ll make you some hot chocolate. We can make a blanket fort. And we can talk about finding you a new school. Whatever you need, Liv. If you tell me that you want to move the Alaskan wilderness then, fuck it, we’ll move to Alaska! We can do anything you want! But we can’t start that conversation until you let me come get you. I’ll walk over really carefully, hold your hand, and help you down, okay? Let me come over to you. Please?” 

“I’m no good…” Her voice could scarcely be heard over the wind. She sounded so powerless and lost. How could Lucy have ever let things get this bad? “”Everyone told me so. I’m going to be in jail like daddy. I’m not smart. They said I faked my way into this school. I’m a bad person. Even the principal said so. She said I did bad things. Ashley’s mom called the police on me. I see them down there. If I get down, they’re going to arrest me. I don’t want to leave you, Lucy.” 

No eight year old should ever have that kind of weight on her shoulders. She should have been more observant. She should have fought harder for her. Lucy knew she was struggling but she should have realized how bad it really was. She was a terrible sister. 

“I’m sorry, Livvy. I’m so sorry,” she sniffled and offered her sister a sad smile. “I didn’t know how bad it was. Now I do. I’m going to make it better. I’m going to get you some help, okay? The police down there aren’t here to arrest you. They just want to make sure that you’re safe. Once you come down, they’ll go away. I’ll keep you safe.” She inched her way closer as she spoke. “You’re not a bad person, Liv. You’re the smartest kid I ever met. All those other kids are just jealous because you got into this school based on how smart you really are. They had to pay their way to get in. They try to bring you down to make themselves feel better. It’s not your fault. You’re going to grow up and change the world someday but you need to be around to do that. I need you. I need you with me. Without you, I’m nothing. You’re my everything. You’re my family. I promise I will keep you safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” She was so close to her now. Slowly, Lucy reached out a trembling hand for her to take. “Please. Let me bring you home, Olivia. Let’s go.” 

Olivia looked up, locking eyes with her, and gave a soft nod of acceptance. Sorrow burned behind her teary eyes. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. Lucy’s words had struck something in her and she was tired and ready to go home. Her hand reached out to grab onto the one already outstretched. It was so close. Lucy could almost feel her skin against her, her safely just within reach…when a large gust of wind pushed past them. The force staggered Olivia, the ice under her caused her boot to lose its footing. Her eyes widened in fear and her mouth hung open in a silent gasp. 

Lucy watched in pure terror as her eight year old sister tumbled backwards, out of her grasp, and over the edge of the building. 

A heart wrenching scream ripped from her chest as her hand grabbed onto nothing but cold air. 

Time slowed. 

Nothing but the sound of her own horrified shrieks filled her ears. 

One second she had been there, and the next, she was gone. 

Empty space where she once stood. 

It felt like she was wading through waist high mud as Lucy ran to the ledge after her. She couldn’t get there fast enough like the world was trying to hold her back from whatever horrors she would see on the other side. She threw her body across the ledge, the sharp edges digging into her ribs, as she looked down below her. 

Her brain couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing. 

Olivia was gone. 

Not dead. 

There was no splattered, tiny body painting red across the white ground. 

She was just…gone. 

No body in sight. 

Nothing. 

Lucy scanned the crowd, the parking lot, even the wall to see if she had somehow caught herself and was desperately trying to hang on. There was nothing. No sign that Olivia had ever been there, as if it was nothing but a horrible dream. She had vanished into thin air. Like she never existed at all. 

The panic gripped in Lucy’s chest and her breath came in short, frenzied gasps. The hysteria numbed her body. Her fingers still tingled with the ghost of Olivia’s hand grazing hers as she fell. She stumbled back from the edge, wide eyed with disorientation, as her legs gave out. The ice below her knees cut through her jeans and dug into her skin. 

“Liv…” she called out meekly. 

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t feel. 

A wailed sob got stuck in her throat. Her heart was pounding. Nothing was real. Nothing mattered except Olivia. 

Someone cleared their throat directly behind her. Lucy gasped and whipped her head around so fast that she tumbled onto her backside in shock. The freezing coldness of the roof seeped through her pants and clawed up her skin until she could feel nothing but ice. 

Standing above her was New York City’s very own Spider-Man. Clinging to his chest, her head buried deep into the crook of his neck, was Olivia. 

Lucy’s eyes widened, tears blurring her vision, as relief flooded her veins. Just as quickly as she had vanished from her life, she had reappeared. 

“I thought you might want this back,” he spoke with a muffled voice through his mask as he nodded his head to Olivia. 

Every emotion in the world rushed through her as Lucy scrambled to her feet and threw her arms around both Spider-Man and her sister, squishing her protectively between the two of them. Lucy’s body shook with loud, unabashed sobs. 

She was safe. Olivia was safe. The world was okay again. 

Lucy clung to the two of them. Her head was spinning and she was starting to feel lightheaded. Holding onto his sturdy frame was the only thing keeping her upright. She was terrified that if she let go then Olivia would disappear again. As long as she was pressed between her and the masked man, Liv was safe. Lucy wanted to keep her that way for as long as she could. Her baby girl was safe. 

With a light whimper, she finally let go long enough to collect her sister from her savior’s arms. Olivia released her death grip on Spider-Man and turned it onto Lucy instead, wrapping her legs around her waist, and clinging on like she was just as scared to let go. Lucy sunk to the ground and cradled her against her chest like she used to when Olivia was baby. She brushed her fingers over her frozen face, feeling her, making her sure she was really there. She was cold but she was alive. Lucy quickly shrugged her winter jacket off and wrapped it around her sister. They were both in shock, unable to form any words, unable to move, other than to cling onto each other and cry. 

Safe. 

She was safe. 

Lucy had to keep repeating that over and over again in her head until it finally started to sink in. 

Spider-Man watched quietly, allowing them to have their moment, before finally squatting down in front of them. He reached out a gloved hand and ruffled Olivia’s hair, “I think she’ll be alright. I caught her pretty quickly. I’d still get her checked out at a hospital thought to be safe. I could feel how cold she was through my suit. They’ll want to take her vitals and make sure she doesn’t have hypothermia or frostbite anywhere.” 

The sound of another person’s voice was enough to snap the two of them out of the world they had created between them. Olivia’s eyes welled up with tears. 

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry! I’ll never do that again. I was so scared. I’m sorry, Lucy. Don’t let them take me to jail!” 

“Hey, now!” Spider-Man shuffled closer to her and placed a hand protectively on her back. “Who said anything about taking you to jail?”

Olivia peeked her head out from Lucy’s chest, looking up at him with wet, scared eyes, “I put spiders down Ashley’s shirt and her mom said I would go to jail for being bad.” 

Spider-Man paused, allowing a beat of silence to settle, then burst out into a loud laugh. It was the most angelic sound Lucy had ever heard. Maybe it was because he had just saved Olivia’s life and, therefore, became the most important man in the world to her but Lucy was filled with a deep love for the masked stranger. His laughter cut through some of her own tension and she let out an unintentional giggle. Call it a trauma response, but suddenly, the thought of Olivia dumping a jar of spiders down some asshole bully’s shirt was the funniest thing in the world to her. Tears of laughter streamed down her face. Once they started, they couldn’t stop. The reality of school bully’s and scholarships felt so small now that her entire perception of the world had shifted. Her sister was safe. She was alive. Everything else pales in comparison. 

Olivia looked between the laughing pair with utter confusion, “What’s so funny?!”

Lucy did her best to stifle the raging emotions and nuzzled her face into Olivia’s hair, “Sorry, baby. I’m just happy you’re safe.” She could feel her body finally start to relax. Olivia was safe. She kept reminding herself of that fact. She was safe thanks to Spider-Man. Her day was unexpectedly filled with more spiders than she ever could have possibly anticipated. She took a deep breath to calm herself. So many emotions in so little time. 

“I bet Ashley deserved it,” Spider-Man replied. She couldn’t see his face but she heard the smile in his voice. “I’m friends with those officers down there. One word from me and they won’t even think about sending you to jail. I won’t let anyone take you. I promise.” 

“Pinky promise?” Olivia reached out a shaky hand to her new hero and extended her pinky. 

“Pinky promise.” 

Lucy watched as Spider-Man locked fingers with her sister. 

“Now let’s get you both down from here and out of the cold,” he said. “I don’t want either of you to freeze to death on my watch.” 

He helped pull Lucy to her feet with ease as she held Olivia close to her chest. His hand rested dutifully on the small of her back, making sure they didn’t slip, as he led them towards the hatch. 

“Mr. Spider-Man?” Olivia asked as she stared over in amazement at him.  

“Please, call me Spidey. Mr. Spider-Man was my father.” 

Lucy rolled her eyes and hid a smile at the joke but it went straight over Olivia’s head, “Okay, Mr. Spidey, will you come over to our apartment for dinner?” 

She hushed her sister, “Absolutely not. He’s a busy man, Liv. He can’t stop by people’s houses for dinner whenever he rescues someone. He doesn’t have time for that. Besides, how can he eat if he can’t take his mask off?” The thought of the famous Spider-Man sitting in full costume with the two of them at their tiny, beat up kitchen table made her smile again. It felt nice to smile.

Olivia gasped, “He can’t take off his mask? Is it glued onto his head? Mr. Spidey, is your mask glued to your head?”

“Oh my god, that’s not what I meant, Liv. I meant he can’t reveal his secret identity. Just drop it, okay?” She sighed. “We have to worry about you first. You caused quite a lot of chaos for such a small child. I’m going to have to do a lot of damage control here.” 

She stopped at the hatch. Down below she could see two paramedics waiting at the bottom of the ladder. 

“I’m going to lower you down now, alright?” She said, “Those nice people down there will help you on the ladder. I’ll be right behind you.” 

It physically hurt her to let Olivia leave her tight grasp but there was no way Lucy would be able to get down while carrying her. She watched, holding back her sudden feelings of panic, as her sister climbed into the arms of the people below. 

Before Olivia fully disappeared, she poked her head back up, “Thank you for saving me, Mr. Spidey. I hope you come visit me for dinner some day, even if your mask is glued to your head.” With that, she ducked back down.

Lucy didn’t want to leave her alone for too long. The idea of her being out of her sight for any longer than a minute was too much to handle. Still, she felt the need to thank Spider-Man herself. He had saved her entire world today. Without him, she probably would have thrown herself off the roof right after Olivia. He was the reason they were still breathing. He was the reason they had a second chance. 

“Thank you,” she spoke softly to him, the exhaustion starting to settle into her bones after the panic she’d experienced. “I don’t know how to express to you what you did today. You saved my sister. She’s my entire world. She’s my everything. You saved her when I couldn’t.” Tears brimmed in her eyes as she pulled him into a hug. Lucy could feel his muscles tense under the suit at the sincerity of the embrace. He gingerly wrapped his arms around her to hug her back, opting to stay silent, but pouring his own gratitude into the embrace. She could tell he was thankful that he was there to save the day, too. 

Her eyes closed as she felt this stranger hold her tightly.

No, not a stranger. A hero. Her hero. 

“Thank you,” she whispered again before placing a soft kiss against his masked cheek. 

With one last grateful look, she pulled away and climbed down after her sister, leaving Spider-Man behind. 

[Chapter Two]

A/N: If you’ve read this far and enjoyed what you read, please give it a reblog! Reblogs make the world go round and help support tumblr writers. It would be very much appreciated. 

If you want to be added to a tag list for this story, let me know and I’ll gladly tag you, but only if you reblog. That’s my new rule. 

[targaryenluvs]

I Got You [andrew!peter parker]

requested (anon)

pairings: Andrew!Peter Parker x Reader

warnings: fluff, harmless following <3

an: italics = peters thoughts

REQUESTS ARE OPEN I WRITE FOR ANYTHING :) 

NO SPOILERS AT ALL FOR NWH (SET IN TASM)

As she walked down the busy streets with her friend, Gwen, Y/n failed to notice the spandex wearing, spider-web slinging hero following her from above. “I totally didn’t notice Gwen! Thank you oh thank you for opening my eyes.” She giggled as her friend pulled a “shocked” face. “Well if it wasn’t for me he would’ve never given you his number! Your welcome, Your Highness Y/n.” Gwen spoke as she nudged Y/n’s arm. 

Number? Who’s number? Why are you taking other guys’ number?

“Oh whatever Gwen.” Y/n giggled, “This is my stop, Y/n/n.” Gwen said, “You’re sleeping over tonight, right?” Y/n nodded, “But I have to go do file a few things at Oscorp, I’ll be back by 3.” Gwen got up to her doorstep and looked back, “Good to know, I’ll see you later!” Y/n waved as she walked away smiling.

God she look’s pretty.

Y/n walked a few minutes before attempting to cross the road. Key word, attempting. As she walked across looking down at the pavement as usual with her headphones in she missed the huge OSCORP labelled truck barrelling down the road towards her. C’mon Y/n look around! Peter said as he sprung into action.

“I got you!” He shouted,  as he swung down and scooped Y/n up by her waist, “Ah!” She screamed as she grabbed onto the nearest solid thing, Peter. As they effortlessly swung through the air, Peter couldn’t help but smile under his mask, he was so close to his crush. Y/n’s excited squeals filled Peter’s ears as they continued to swing around NYC until landing on top of a tall building.

“Oh my god!” Y/n spoke as she tried not to have her heart explode out of her chest as adrenaline pumped through her. “That- you.” Y/n stumbled over her words as she tried to catch her breath, “You saved me! Thank you so much.” She spoke with a smile on her face. “Uh no problem!” Spider-Man spoke as he tried to alter his voice. 

As Y/n looked up her eyes dilated at the sight of the man in front of her. “You’re, holy shit, you’re Spider-Man!” She gushed as Peter awkwardly stood trying to contain himself. “Yeah! I am! I mean uh-uhm, yeah. You should really start looking left and right Y/n.” Peter explained to the teen, “How do you know my name?” She enquired, “Well I was swinging in the neighbour-hood when someone said your name, next thing I knew you’re in-front of a truck.”

Great save idiot. Couldn’t have just pointed to her name tag?

Y/n’s shirt had an Oscorp name tag on the right. “And uh you have a name tag.” Peter explained to her. “Oh yeah! That makes sense, well uh thanks for the save down there and I’m late! Damn it.” Y/n sighed, “I can take you there, or y’know swing you there.” He said as he slowly stepped closer, “You’d be a life saver thanks.” She gushed as she stepped closer, Peter wrapped his arm around her waist as Y/n placed a hand on his chest and another around his back, locking herself in.

Spider-Man extended his arm which shot out a web and they were off! Left and right they dodged buildings as people shouted, “Spider-Man! It’s Spider-Man! Holy shit Spider-Man! He probably saved her! We love you!” Their time was cut short as they reached the Oscorp building, “Here we are.” Y/n smiled, “Thank you so much, for y’know. I gotta go but it was great meeting you!” 

“Y/n!” A co-worker of hers shouted at her, “C’mon! It’s Harry’s birthday!” The woman shouted at her, “Gotta run bye! Nice to meet you!” 

Peter sighed, “Nice to meet you too.”

[opalrose101]

Soft Love

Ratings: SFW, no warnings apply (mentions of reader worrying about and mentions Peter but he is fine) no NWH spoilers

This is my first published fic and a shameless self insert but I think someone else might enjoy it.

Summary: female Reader POV. TASM Peter Parker . Established relationship (married which isn’t a huge thing but I started another fic where that fact will come into play more) Peter is very tired after a long day of being Spider-Man and he is so soft and cuddly when he is tired and wore out. I believe his main love language is touch and he loves the reader very much. No smut.

Word count: 1.5k+

You hear the window in your bedroom open. Peter was home. Your heart sputters in a mix of excitement at seeing Peter and the smallest bit of worry at the condition he was in. He generally prefers to change into street clothes and come through the front door. Usually he only comes in through the window when he is either really tired or really hurt and doesn’t want to explain why to your neighbors. You hear him open and close drawers before heading into the shower. As the water runs you force yourself to relax. You made him promise to let you know right away if he was hurt bad. While the two of you had differing opinions on what constitutes “bad”, he had kept his word. So knowing that he was safe and home you go back to your work. When you are done you move to the couch with a book. Awhile later you hear the water turn off. A few minutes later you hear the door open and bare footsteps down the hall

You look up as he comes in. He is wearing a pair of sweatpants and a plain black tee, his hair is still damp from the shower. You can feel your face light up as he walks in. You also can’t help yourself from checking him over for cuts and bruises. He knows what you are doing and let’s you inspect him for a few seconds, before he walks over places a hand on your cheek and kisses you hello “I’m fine, promise. I just got really dirty today there was a fire and I was helping to get people out.”

“You sure you weren't cleaning the chimney?” He smiles at your teasing. He had told you about all the ridiculous excuse he told had told his aunt over the years. The I was cleaning the chimney excuse being one of your favorites to tease him about. Honestly sometimes you didn’t know how he can keep such a big secret and be such a horrible liar at the same time.

He starts telling you what happened as he goes into the kitchen and grabs an apple from the bowl on the counter. He continues telling you about his day in between bites. If you couldn’t tell he was exhausted from the fact that he was gone all day you could tell from his posture and mannerisms. The normally excitable, animated Peter was subdued and more matter of fact then normal. When he was done he threw the apple core in the trash and came over to the couch resting his head on your lap. You knew what he wanted and start running your fingers threw his hair.

“That feels good.” He says as he nuzzles into your lap. You run your fingers through his hair for a few minutes before he falls asleep. You pick up your book and let him rest on you. When you get to the end of the chapter you put your bookmark in and stare down at Peter. He looks younger like this. So peaceful and calm. More like the boy you first met or even the boy in the pictures his aunt loves to show you. You run your hands threw his hair a few more times, then you carefully lift his head up so you don’t wake him as you get up. He makes a small sound of protest but goes right back to sleep when you lay his head back down on a pillow.

Even with the apple you are sure Peter will be starving when he gets up. So you go into the kitchen to make dinner as quiet as possible. Putting in earbuds to listen to music while you work. When you are almost done you can faintly hear the sound of him coming behind you and put his arms around you as you stir the pot on the stove. He sways the two of you back and forth a little and places a quick kiss to the side of your head and you take your headphones out and put your arms over his and lean into him.

“How long was I asleep?”

“About an hour.”

“Hmmm.” He grunts noncommittally.

“Dinner should be done in a few minutes if you are hungry.” You feel rather then see him nod his head. You stay like this his arms around your waist as you wait for the food to finish. The two of you wordlessly swaying, just enjoying the feeling of being together and safe. After a few minutes dinner is done and you turn the burner off. He wordlessly kisses the side of your head before he let’s you go. The two of you in a silent rhythm as you both set the table and put the food on. He asks you about your day and you tell him everything that happened. He nods along and smiles at your jokes, but if the nap didn’t tell you how exhausted he was the silence did. Not that he didn't speak he would still ask questions and nod in agreement but he wasn’t talking as much as he normally did. Normally dinner conversations were animated an animated exchange of ideas and stories. Sometimes you two would have a silly argument about a tv show or sometimes a deep discussion about an article you both read or any number of things. Both of you laughing and teasing each other endlessly. Not that you minded doing most of the talking tonight. You knew he just needed a night of rest and that he was content to just listen to you talk. In the morning he would probably talk your ear off. And while he was unusually quiet now this quiet didn’t worry you like it sometimes did, when his past had come back to haunt him or his life as Spider-Man got to be to much.

After Peter finished his second serving he yawns and puts his head in his hands. You get up and out your hand on his shoulder. He immediately turns in his chair putting his arms around you pulling him closer to him. His head resting on your stomach. He never can resist the chance to touch you, close hold you close. Not that you mind. You can’t help running your hands through his hair again apparently not getting enough of him either. And after a second you suggest he goes to bed while you clean up.

“I’m ok.” His voice muffled still leaning his head against you. “You made dinner. I’ll clean up.”

“I haven’t been swinging up and down a building all day”

“So I can handle it and you worked too.”

You roll your eyes, glad he can’t see you. This was probably the biggest thing you fought over. The only thing really. (other then when he doesn’t tell you how hurt he is.) You know he feels guilty about not doing as much around the house as him but why can’t he just let you help him? You feel the old annoyance ride up. His But then he looks up at you with his big brown eyes and says “Please just let me do this.” And you melt. You can feel the guilt he has over not being around much and so you decide to compromise.

“How about I just put the dishes in the sink and you can do them in the morning. You need to go to bed, bug boy.” He smiles at the affectionate nick name, nods. When you start to walk away he catches your wrist.

“Come to bed with me.” You could hear the desperation in his voice, the need to be close to you so strong. The need to hold you and make sure you are safe even as he sleeps. You often could separate the two sides of him. Spider-Man and Peter Parker but sometimes you could see Spider-Man bleeding into Peter. That desire to protect and keep you safe. Even as he slept. You weren’t really that tired but knew he slept better with you there. And when he looked at you like that, so open and vulnerable and desperate you knew you would give him anything he asked. Much less such a simple request.

“Sure, babe. I’ll be right behind you.” He nods and the look of relief on face breaks your heart a little bit. As if this was a big thing. As if you wouldn’t do anything to give him some peace. But you supposed for him it was a big deal to have that calm and comfort only you could provide at the end of his day. As much as it broke your heart how much he needed you, you are glad he can be that vulnerable around you. So open as he can’t be with anyone else.

So you go put the dishes in the sink. Then go to the bedroom and wordless get ready for bed with him. As soon as you get in bed he pulls you close. Your head on his chest with both arms tightly around you.

“Thank you” he says. You feel that this isn’t just for being with him now but just your existence and love in general. He was always so grateful to have you still in his life as if you would run away or worse. He didn’t realize how much you loved him and how it made all the worry worth it. How you could share Spider-Man with the city as long as Peter Parker would always come home to you.

“Of course.” You say turning to look at him. He loosens his grip enough for you to kiss him good night. Before you lay your head back on his chest. “I love you.” You feel his arms squeeze a little bit tighter at those words.

“I love you too.” After a minute you hear his breathing steady and his grip on you loosens as he falls asleep. You think how much you love this, being in his arms. So warm. So safe not just physically but emotionally cause as open and vulnerable he could with you, you knew you could be just as open and vulnerable with him. So laying here knowing your bug-boy was home and safe asleep you are so full of love, soft love. Not that you two didn’t have the passionate kind of love. Brimming over consuming you. The kissing in the middle of the rain and not caring if you got wet kind of love. (Which did happen) But this kind of love was nice, it was comforting, it was nice dinners and happy just to be together and wanting to take care of the other in every way and it was a soft place to land. So soft cause you two would always be safe and content in your little bubble. After a little bit find you are more tired then you thought and you are so warm and comfortable snuggled next to Peter. So you start to drift off to sleep to the sound of his steady breathing.

Authors note: So this is my first published fanfic and honestly I love how it turned out. Let me know what you think, but please be kind. I am open to CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. (I.e. x was confusing or add more tags not this fic sucks. I want to get better and am open to ideas.)

I am planning on doing a few stories with the same reader x TASM Peter Parker pairing. So far I don’t plan on you needing to read one to read the others. But it will be the same relationship just different events. So if you liked this you will probably like my other fics.

[blondsauduun-reads]

The Almighty Masterlist

Okay so like 99% of the fics are not mine, so I��ll credit the writer too (and you can go check their work out, because some of these are GOLDEN). And I will be linking my fav fics here because I’ve got 200 fics on here as of now (but all other fics are tagged with the character that they’re about so you can find them and read them).And they will be in chronological order of reblog, because I’m lazy, mostly. All these are character x reader/oc self-inserts.

If you read any of the fics below, make sure to like and reblog them and show the writer your support with a comment, doesn’t matter if it’s a simple I love this! Or something more elaborate and personal, it does make a difference.

Edit: since Reggie from JATP had officially a last name, the fics which I reblogged until the 9th of December will be tagged as jatp reggie, but all the ones I reblog from now on will be tagged as reggie peters.

TAGLIST HERE

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My requests are always open, but I only write with OCs (of the person who’s requested it) and X Reader. Fem!Reader, Male!Reader and Gender-Neutral/NB!Reader are all welcome. I don’t write non-con, p*dophilia or z*ophilia.

My Fics:

JATP - Reggie - We’re The Revolution That’s Been Singing In The Rain

JATP - Juke - Really Something

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EDIT: tumblr doesn’t allow more than 50 tags so the continuation of my recommendations will be linked

HERE.

Personal Faves:

Special Mention to my bestie’s @heliads masterlist because all her work is amazing * edit. Somehow most of her links don’t work so if you want to read them just visit her masterlist linked above! She has it all perfectly organized and is great, definitely worth checking out!

MLWTWB - Alex Walter - Drunken Make Outs - @mattybstqrn

MLWTWB - Alex Walter - I’m Yours - @julieloves074

Stranger Things - Eddie Munson - she’s the devil in disguise - @letterstotheflre

Zombies - Zed Necrodopolis - Team Player - @heliads *see pink above for link

TW - Brett Talbot - The Bite - @heliads *see pink above for link

Marvel/TASM - Peter Parker - The Two Of Us - @/heliads *see pink above for link

MCU - Avengers - Kiddo - @redstarwriting

DC - Harley Quinn - Cherry Soda - @sapphicwhxre

HP - James Potter - Truth and Declare - by fave @heliads *see pink above for link

SaB - The Darkling - Time Can Heal (But This Won’t) - by bestie @heliads *see pink above for link

SaB - Jesper - Guns Blazing, Tides Rising (+part 2 +3 +4 +5) - @heliads *see pink above for link

TW - Brett Talbot - The Spring Break Lie - @heliads *see pink above for link

MCU - Bucky - First Glance - @royalwildswriting

SPN - Dean - The Hunter With The Dragon Tattoo - @watermelonlipstick

AiB - Arisu - Gaming - Part Two - @koreaweeb​ 

JATP - Juke - in his arms - @unsaidnessa

AiB - Chishiya - Marionette - @koreaweeb​ (there’s parts, this is the masterlist and this is my fav chapter and these are the reasons why)

AiB - Chishiya - Red Strings - @koreaweeb (second story to Marionette)

Hannibal - Will Graham - Lonely - @gunpowder-and-smoke​

Hannibal - Will Graham - Gradually - @darling-i-read-it​

Hannibal - Will Graham - Sparring - @darling-i-read-it​

Hannibal - Will Graham - Lost Time   - @darling-i-read-it

JATP - Luke - Shirtless - @littlemissaddict​

JATP - Reggie - About Love - @darlingsteveharrington

JATP - Reggie - Eyeliner - @julies-molina

JATP - Reggie - Little Miss Perfect - @unholyobsessions

JATP - Reggie - The Perfect Christmas - @calamitykaty

JATP - Reggie - Perfectly Entwined - @thefandomimaginesandwritingblog

JATP - Reggie - A Moment In Time - @calamitykaty

JATP – Reggie – Who Are You?  - @himoonlight (this is the first part and the other parts are here: 2 - 3 - 4

JATP – Julie Molina – My Captain - @n0wornever (there’s also a second part to this and its this )

JATP – Reggie – Second Chances  - @pythagothug (also multiple parts but are linked in the og post)

JATP – Reggie – Swedish Hologram Crush - @jaskiers-sweetkiss

JATP - Reggie – Dinner Gal  - @nooneactuallyasked (that’s part 1 there’s at least 4)

JATP – Reggie – Marker Messages - @carnationcreation

JATP - Reggie – The Four Times They Almost Got Caught (And The One Time They Were) - @carnationcreation

JATP - Reggie - Akai Ito  - @intoanothermind

JATP - Reggie – Embarrassing Encounters - @billboardofbrokendreams

JATP – Reggie – Unsteady Hands  - @sunsetgillespie (this is like, one of my most treasured fics of all time.)

Teen Wolf – Theo Raeken – Back From Hell  - @xplrreylo

JATP – Reggie – Leather Jacket  - @xplrreylo

Obey Me! – Mammon – Bangin’ Birthday  - @mammor0n

FBAWTFT – Newt Scamander – Not That Dress - @12tardis (there’s i think two more fics by this person, one with a jumper(? And one with a shirt(? Make sure to check ‘em out too!)

TO x SPN – Elijah Mikaelson – Funny-Man  - @zodiyack

TO - Klaus Mikaelson – Every King Needs An Heir  - @zodiyack (i think two parts?)

TVD – Kai Parker -  Lunchtime Sabotage - @zodiyack

TO - Kol Mikaelson – Trusting You To Trust Yourself  - @zodiyack

OBX - JJ Maybank – Study Sessions  - @ptersparkers (7 chapters of pure smut)

[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.”

[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.

[moonstruckme]

congrats!!!! how about fade into you with tasm!peter and touch starved!reader, in an established relationship???

Thanks honey!!

join the party

tasm!Peter Parker x touch starved!reader ♡ 960 words

When Peter gets home, you’re in another long, hot shower. With no one to witness how pathetic it looks, you’ve taken to sitting on the floor, letting the scalding water wash over your back and drip from your lashes. Your skin will be pinkish and puffy when you get out, but it won’t matter; you’ve got nothing to do other than wrap yourself in blankets and sit on the bed for the rest of the night. 

When Peter’s voice comes, it sounds muffled, faraway, but you snap to attention nonetheless.

“Sweetheart?” A faint knocking. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you say without hesitation, scrambling up and shutting off the water. 

“Shit, it’s steamy in here,” he says as the door opens. “Want me to pass you a towel?”

“That’s alright.” You grab the towel you’ve hung by the shower, hastily scrubbing yourself dry and wrapping it around you. 

Peter’s hands are on either side of the face the second you turn around, pushing your wet hair out of the way so he can kiss you properly. It’s a sweet, brief thing, and your chest aches slightly when he pulls back. 

“Ouch, babe.” His hands feel cool as they move down to your shoulders. You shiver pleasantly. “Your skin’s burning hot. How long were you in there?”

You really should get another towel to stop your hair from dripping all over the floor, but you can’t stand to move away from Peter’s touch. “I was bored,” you reply, “and the hot water is nice.” 

“Seems like it was more than just hot,” he murmurs, grabbing the other towel as if he’s heard your thought and beginning to squeeze the moisture from your hair. “Sorry I was gone so long. I never know how these things are gonna go, you know?” 

“I know.” Peter had been attending a weekend conference on some scientist’s new research at a university in Chicago. He was supposed to be back days ago, but apparently he saw some fishy things while he was there that Spiderman felt an obligation to investigate. “Did you find the mutants?”

Peter shrugs, taking you by the shoulders to walk you into the bedroom. The air feels shockingly cold outside of the bathroom, but the warmth of his touch is enough to keep you from minding. “Sorta. It was a group of guys pretending to be mutants. Projectors and stuff combined with actual explosives to make it look like superpowered attacks.” He sits you down and begins digging through drawers, tossing you a pair of sweatpants and one of his shirts. “It was super sophisticated, had to take a ton of planning. Honestly, if they weren’t, like, bad guys, I would’ve been really impressed.” 

You shrug the shirt on. “Sounds like you were impressed anyway, honey.” 

“Well.” Peter makes a sheepish face. “Just because they’re assholes doesn’t mean they’re not smart assholes, right?” 

“Right.” You say, standing to get the sweatpants on. You don’t know where to go from here, feeling oddly hollow but with no good reason. Peter’s here; your loneliness should be vanquished. You hold your elbows awkwardly. “So, how was the conference?”

“Baby.” Peter sounds almost disappointed, and hurt hooks its claws in your gut before you can even figure what you’ve done. “Why’re you all the way over there, huh? You haven’t even asked for a hug yet. Is something wrong?”

You hadn’t realized you were so predictable, but it is a bit odd for you not to tackle him the second he comes through the door. “I don’t think so,” you say, and Peter’s brows twitch together at your uncertain tone. “I just really missed you, Pete.” 

He makes a pained, sympathetic sound, opening his arms and stepping toward you. “C’mere, sweetheart.” 

And apparently that’s the permission your body was looking for. You meet him in the middle, his arms coming up slow and firm around your shoulder blades. Your chest aches again, but this time it’s almost pleasant, though you feel suddenly like you could cry. Peter seems to know, one arm tightening across both your shoulders while the other hand begins stroking up and down your back. 

“Did you have a bad week?” he asks softly, breath tickling your ear. 

“No,” you reply honestly. “I think���I think I just needed this.” 

Peter gives you a squeeze in response, and you tighten your grip too. 

“Let’s just do this forever,” you say, only half joking. “Think you could come to work with me tomorrow to hold my hand all day?”

Peter doesn’t seem willing to roll with your lightness. “Nobody else hugs you when I’m not around, do they?” he asks, and when you don’t respond, he pulls back slightly, taking your face in his hand. “Do they, sweetheart?”

“No,” you say, and you’re not sure why it feels like an admittance. You’re not touchy with your friends, and your coworkers aren’t close like that. When else would you have the opportunity for hugs? 

“No wonder you get so lonely when I’m gone.” Peter’s voice is fraught with tenderness, and he pulls you close again, petting your damp hair. “I’ll hold you as long as you like, babe, but after that, we should look into getting you a cat or something.” 

“A cat?” You twitch in his hold, perking up hopefully. “I thought your landlord didn’t let you have pets.” 

“He doesn’t, but he also doesn’t have to know,” he says easily. “If it’ll keep you from getting sad like this while I’m away, a cat is a small price to pay. Gotta keep my girl happy, you know?”

“I think,” you counter, “that we should get a cat and you should never leave again.” 

Peter chuckles, kissing the top of your head lightly. “Deal.”

[moonstruckme]

We have whimsical reader in marauders

We need one with tasm peter

Oorrrr

Can you imagine (or make) a witch/wizard reader with tasm peter!!???

Thanks for requesting love!

tasm!Peter Parker x whimsical!reader ♡ 679 words

Peter comes in through the window, more out of habit than anything else now that he’s not hiding anything from you, but you don’t startle. You’re sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor in front of the couch, flipping through what looks like his old physics textbook. 

“Baby,” he says, “why was there an apple on the fire escape again?” 

“It was still there?” You look up, disappointed to find a whole apple in your boyfriend’s hand. “I thought Ricardo would’ve gotten to it by now. I hope he’s okay.” 

Peter scoffs, going into the kitchen to wash the apple and put it away. He scrubs it extra hard just in case the raccoon you’re set on befriending did get his grubby paws on it. 

“Ricardo can eat without your help,” he says. “He’s hardy, he’s from Brooklyn.” 

“I know,” you sigh, “but apples are his favorite.” 

Peter’s eyes narrow, but you’re not looking, your attention on something in the book. “How do you know that?” 

“He’ll let me pet him while he’s eating apples.” 

He sighs, leaning his forearms on the counter. He’s going to have to find a way to move that raccoon to another neighborhood the next time he goes out. Before it gives you rabies.

“What’re you doing over there?” he asks you. 

“Pressing flowers.” 

“Yeah?” Peter rounds the counter, moving behind you to sit on the couch. His knees bracket your shoulders. The A/C is blasting to combat the summer heat, and goosebumps prickle down your arms. “What for?” 

“I was thinking May could bring them to work,” you say, flattening a dandelion between two pieces of wax paper. The movements are deft and routined, and Peter wonders how many flowers are already enclosed between the pages. There’s a small pile of them sitting next to you, miraculously intact despite the fragile puffs. “She was telling me about some of the kids she works with last week. I thought they might like to have them.” You shrug. “For bookmarks or whatever.” 

Peter’s insides go melty soft. “I’m sure they would.” He leans forward, setting his hand on your shoulder and his lips to your head. You only keep working. Sometimes Peter feels like a weird rock or a feather that you’d picked up somewhere, put in your pocket without a second thought. But you do love your rocks and feathers, so it’s not an awful fate. “Where’d you get these, sweetheart?” 

“I found them,” you say simply. “Parks, sidewalks, you know. They grow anywhere. Do you think I should save a few in case they want to make wishes instead of keeping them?” 

It’s said so seriously Peter can’t help but grin, turning so his cheek smushes into the crown of your head. “That seems like a good idea. Mind if I use one?” 

“Of course.” You sound surprised. “Use as many as you want, Peter. I can always get more.” 

“Just one is good.” 

He slides off of the couch, sitting beside you and picking up a dandelion. He waits until you’re looking over at him before blowing. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as the seeds rush towards you. Peter’s close enough that they get stuck in your eyelashes and eyebrows, a couple in your hair. His breath weakens as he starts laughing, the last few seeds coming off the flower by way of little puffs of air. 

“You don’t have to blow it at someone,” you say, lips stretching into a pretty smile. You blink cautiously, opening your eyes once no dandelion fluff falls in. 

He lowers the stem. “I just wanted to make sure my wish went in the right direction.” 

Your head tilts. “What’d you wish for?” 

Peter combs a bit of white fluff out of your hair, grinning. “C’mon, baby,” he tsks, shifting his fingers to your jaw. You’re pliant to the touch, angling your head at the slightest cue from him. You keep your eyes open, curious, but your lips are soft against his. “You know that’s not how it works. I’ve still gotta make sure it comes true.”

[moonstruckme]

can i request steve, sirius, or peter — whichever you’d like — with a high! reader :3 just all lovey and dovey and snuggly together

Thanks for requesting!

cw: weed

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 687 words

You’ve become engrossed by Peter’s wrist. The two of you are only watching this show because you’d asked for it, but you’re not paying it any attention now. You trail your index finger lightly over the veins underneath his palm, then reverse course, letting the flat of your nail bump back over them. When you dip your head and start kissing it, slow, soft presses of your wet mouth, Peter laughs. 

“What…” His voice comes out breathy, mystified. “What are you doing?” 

“Adoring you.” You turn your face so your cheek is pressed against his inner wrist and his hand cups your head, looking up at him with red eyes. Peter’s grin widens; your pupils are ginormous. He doubts his are much better. “You’re welcome.” 

“Yeah? Can I do that too?” He uses his free hand to take a big handful of your thigh, giving it a squeeze. 

A little smile plays on your lips, but you shake your head, sitting up and getting into his lap. “M’not coming onto you, Parker,” you say. “My love is pure.” 

“Oh, my bad.” He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and you take the cue, tilting your head up for a kiss. “For the record, my love is pure, too.” Peter touches his lips to yours once, twice, brief and teasing. “I just don’t feel the need to announce it, you know?” 

You plant your hands on either side of his face when he goes in for a third. You seem to be considering him. Peter submits to your perusal, looking back at you as you scan his features thoughtfully. 

“You’re so smiley,” you tell him. One of your thumbs pushes into his cheek. 

“Mm, wonder why that could be.” You tilt your head, bemused, and his heart goes to mush. “You’re being pretty cute right now, you know that?” 

“So biased.” You roll your eyes and your head goes with them, tipping back towards the ceiling. Peter slides one hand from your waist to your back, keeping you from falling in case you need it. “I thought you were supposed to be a scientist. Don’t you have to control your variables or something?” 

“I’m off the clock.” He leans forward to catch the arch of your neck in his mouth, and he sort of gets why you were so obsessed with his wrist now. Peter wants to eat you. “You don’t think you’re cute?” 

You giggle as his stubble tickles your neck, lolling your head in the other direction to cut him off. But Peter’s persistent; he moves to the newly open terrain, fingers digging into your side to elicit another giggle from you. 

Your laughter is loud and warm-sounding, cracking out of you like a shot. You grab the offending hand and scramble forward to hide your neck underneath Peter’s chin. 

“You don’t, huh?” He doesn’t fight your hold on his hand, but he can still feel you shaking with laughter against him. “Don’t wanna tell me how cute you are, pretty girl?” 

“Peter,” you whine. You release his hand, wrapping both your arms around his neck and cuddling close. 

Peter wonders if this is a manipulation. Some kind of appeal to his affection for you. Either way, it works; he gives up tickling you and sets his hand on your back, rubbing up and down the curve of your spine. 

“You’re really tactile today,” he observes warmly. 

Your sigh tickles his neck. “I know. I’m in a mood.” 

“What kind of mood is that?” 

“The I-love-you-so-much-I-might-die kind. Pretty fucked up, what you’re doing to me. I should be mad at you.” 

Peter’s pretty sure if someone did an x-ray of his chest right now, his heart would just be a puddle of warm goop. “You’ve done worse to me.” 

“Lies.” 

“Truths.” 

You’re quiet for a minute. Peter relaxes into the sound of your breathing syncing with his, the swishing sound of his palm moving over your shirt. 

“Truce, and I’ll go get the ice cream sandwiches from the freezer?” 

He huffs a laugh. “Way to make me an offer I can’t refuse, pretty girl.”