#tasm!spiderman

[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.”

[epilary]

your instagram if you befriended tasm!spiderman and peter parker masterlist | requests open

Liked by guinevere and 6 others

y/n★彡  bought a new camera ( ´ ▽ ` )

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→ quinevere Are you in my biology class??

     → y/n★彡 yeah!! gwen, right? i just moved here

     → guinevere Yes, we’ll have to chat before class

Liked by pete.p. and 13 others

y/n★彡  thanks for protecting my bike… bugboy? arachnidman?

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→ pete.p. It literally says Spider-Man 🤨

     → y/n★彡 bugboy just rolls off the tongue a little nicer though

Liked by guinevere and 41 others

pete.p.  Tried the new Spider-Man cake… not totally bad

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→ quinevere You ate the whole thing in less than a few minutes

     → y/n★彡 ‘not totally bad’ liar

     → pete.p. didn’t expect to be bombarded by the truth police

Liked by the_flash and 18 others

y/n★彡  yeah sure, play dumb (´･_･`)

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→ pete.p. I don’t know what you’re talking about, it wasn’t me

     → y/n★彡 sure…

→ the_flash Yeah, it was totally me 😏

     → y/n★彡 i don’t even think you were in that class

Liked by y/n★彡 and 53 others

pete.p.  Went on a journey with an unlikely friend

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→ y/n★彡 still can’t believe they think he ACTUALLY worked with shocker

     → pete.p. I know! Absolutely insane

Liked by guinevere and 59 others

y/n★彡  talked him into taking a photo for me… 😭

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→ guinevere HE DID?? THATS SO COOL

     → y/n★彡 I KNOW! i mean he’s actually really chill

     → the_flash I would know, we’re actually really close friends 😏

Liked by y/n★彡 and 38 others

pete.p.  gwen, reading?? who would’ve thought??

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→ y/n★彡 she’s such an ICON

     → guinevere Thank you <33 also Peter I’m going to get you for doing this >:|

Liked by y/n★彡 and 38 others

y/n★彡  HE FELL ASLEEP ‼️‼️

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→ the_flash Thank you for this

     → pete.p. NO- istg

→ guinevere My revenge has never been more swift

[forever-rogue]

Spider-Man - Masterlist

Below are all requests/prompts/drabbles for the spidey bois. The list will be updated as things are put out! No taglists.

Request Guidelines

Main Masterlist

* = explicit

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Secret Identity - TASM!Peter Parker

Spidey Senses -  TASM!Peter Parker

I Want More -  TASM!Peter Parker

Blind -  TASM!Peter Parker

Out of Place -  TASM!Peter Parker

Keep You Safe - TASM!Peter Parker

Terribly Obvious - TASM!Peter Parker

Touch -  TASM!Peter Parker

Anxious -   TASM!Peter Parker

Heart Out -  TASM!Peter Parker

Asleep -   TASM!Peter Parker

Ice Skating  -  TASM!Peter Parker

As it Goes -  TASM!Peter Parker

Crush -  TASM!Peter Parker

Spiderling Sunshine - TASM!Peter Parker

Hanukkah Cookies  - TASM!Peter Parker

It’s Nice to Have a Friend - TASM!Peter Parker

Bleached - TASM!Peter Parker

Spider-Girl - TASM!Peter Parker

First Kiss - TASM!Peter Parker

Heating’s Out - TASM!Peter Parker

Dressing up - TASM!Peter Parker

Halloween - TASM!Peter Parker

Sick - TASM!Peter Parker

Early Morning Confessions  - TASM!Peter Parker

Surprise - MCU!Peter Parker

Sunshine - Spider-Man 2099

Bad Liar -  Spider-Man 2099

Emotions are Hard - Spider-Man 2099

[undiscovered-horizon]

Direct Message - TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

[2K Followers 'Clue' Special]

SUMMARY: A healthy relationship means you trust each other but the healthiest relationship is poking fun at anyone trying to hook up with either of you... right?

WORDCOUNT: ~0.5k

In a miraculous turn of events, your kitchen did not burn down due to Peter’s actions. No one lost a finger and neither did the recipe turn out to be bogus. The veggie stock with dumplings was simmering on the stove, filling the flat with a mouth-watering aroma. Your stomach grumbled quietly. The fifteen minutes of waiting were going to be torture.

Sitting on the counter, you were silently watching Peter putting away the dirty utensils and ingredients. He still had his sleeves rolled up from cooking. There wasn’t anything, in particular, you were thinking about - school, family, the plot of the book you were reading… Just passing, unimportant thoughts. Judging by his expressionless face, he wasn’t any more troubled than you were.

Your phone vibrated on the counter, eliciting a low thrum. Rather out of habit than genuine interest, you looked at the lit-up screen. A message. Reading the less-than-savoury text, a grimace appeared on your face. “Dear Lord, what on God’s green Earth is this.”

“What’s up?” Peter asked walking to you. He leaned against the counter with one hand. His curious gaze studied your profile.

"Remember that guy that hit me up like last month?” Peter gave you a confused look. Truthfully, neither of you paid much mind to people interested in the other. “The basketball dude?”

His face momentarily lit up. "Yeah, what about him?"

"He hit me up again."

Peter burst into laughter. A lovely sound. "What?!” he asked in disbelief. “Show me."

You opened the phone and Peter leaned his head against yours to get a good look at the screen. An enticing fragrance of spicy cologne mixed with flowery laundry detergent filled your nostrils. Unknowingly, you took in a deep inhale.

"See?“ You vaguely pointed at the newest text. “Your boyfriend doesn't have to know',” you said in a mocking voice. “The Hell do I look like? Secret Service?"

He looked at you with a strange glint in his eyes. "I mean, he's got good taste, gotta give him that."

You entertained him with a giggle. Taking a step forward, Peter found himself standing between your legs, hands lingering around your waist. He gave you a playful grin.

“You too." Enjoying this sudden intimacy, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Peter leaned in explicitly close but before he would indulge in this lack of personal space, he simply had to murmur something cheesy. “Oh, please. He’s a fanboy, I am a connoisseur.”

His warm lips gently moved against yours. One of his hands travelled from your waist to your jaw, firmly cupping it. The surrounding world, like mist on a summer morning, seemed to dissolve.

The repetitive sound of the lid slamming against the pot made you divert your attention. You turned your head slightly to the side to free your mouth but Peter was hardly affected by that. Feverishly, he continued peppering your face with kisses.

“Babe, aren’t the dumplings boiling over?” you whispered to him.

He didn’t even glance in the direction of the pot. Peter’s warm breath brushed against your cheek as he chuckled before kissing you again. “Nah.”

I've got one Bad News and two Good News. The Good News: 1) We're a handful of souls away from hitting 2k. 2) I'm 4k words into a sci-fi novel. The Bad News: I don't know if I have depression or ADHD but one of those for sure

[starfa11]

There's a First Time for Everything

Word Count: 1065 Warnings: brief mentions of Peter being hurt, mostly fluff, canon violence, self-indulgent shenanigans The first time you met Peter Parker wasn’t even as Peter Parker. It was when a certain web-slinging vigilante crashed through the cafe window you worked at, frightening the customers, and effectively scaring them off. It didn’t make a great first impression that he’d successfully, accidentally ruined your work day. It also wasn’t a great impression that he’d started to bleed over your new carpet. That’s when it hit you, spiderman had just crashed through your window, and was bleeding on your carpet. That sent a jolt of white-hot electricity that was entirely fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you went to grab him and drag him behind the counter, murmuring “Sorries” as he muttered under his breath at the pain. After a quick, shoddy nursing job, he returned to fight and your first meet was concluded. 

The second time Peter had met you, he’d forgotten all about the first time, seeing a coffee shop that felt like home, and the pretty worker was no deterrent. He’d ordered a latte, nothing fancy, and you were so charming that he decided to forgo what he ended up deeming a usual boring coffee for latte art that had a heart on it. He really had been there to work, but when he’d gone up for a pastry the second time around, there was something about the groundedness and the weight on your shoulders that he recognized. Peter found that he enjoyed seeing the sweet light in your eyes much more than you with shaky hands and a creased forehead. He remembered the way you’d told him to have a nice day when he’d left, and he remembered your eyes, he figured he should talk to you at least once, whether that was as the him that you would find normal, or the vigilante that may or may not stroll through the door at some point soon. The third time you’d met Peter, was the second time you’d met Spider-man and he was all swagger and sweet talk as he called you sweetheart and stuck around as you closed up, and let all be damned as he laughed at the awkward new customers, the weird orders and the funny little stories that your work day lent to you. And when he left he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, called you sweetheart again, and left you feeling as scarlet as the red on his suit.  And that was that that was when Peter figured he may have harbored the smallest little crush on you. When his weeks were spent looking forward to the Fridays that he didn’t have classes so he could order a latte with a heart on it and a pastry in two separate rounds of going up to the counter, because you liked to compliment his style, or question what song he was listening to, and he liked to listen to the humming as you went about your work day. Though the humming was by no means star-striking, Peter found something so endearing about your comfortability in your space, and on patrol later that evening he remembered barely asking you to dance with him to some silly offbeat song on the radio. He barely remembered you saying yes, and he remembers how elated he was that you’d done so. What he had a clear memory of, however, was the way your eyes seemed all so amused, how they shone in the dim lights of the kitchen as everything went about outside of your cafe’s windows, the hustle and bustle of the city juxtaposing the calm quietness of the dancing and the way you always seemed to hum to whatever was on the radio. He remembered all of it, and he remembered the look on your face when he’d left like you knew something he didn’t, and for a second, he thought you might’ve.

The first time you had gone on a date with Peter Parker, he did everything right. After he asked for your phone number when he went to get his coffee and pastry, he waited until you’d been texting a short while, and then asked if you’d like to do something, like go to dinner, or see a movie. He’d been so endearingly awkward that it was difficult to say no, although you’d never wanted to. And when the day came, he brought you flowers, and seemed so scared to walk into your small apartment, but seemed so enamored by your little space and how much it felt like you that it was the most sickeningly sweet thing you’d seen in a while. You went to walk around and look at records in a sweet little record store that smelled like mothballs, lint, and faintly of cinnamon, with several lights that flickered in a yellow shade that made the entire space feel a little bit softer. After he took you to a diner, and you two had milkshakes and fries, the honey-eyed boy was adamant that you were to try fries dipped in milkshake, and was increasingly adamant that it was the best thing to be created since sliced bread. So you let him walk you home and paint the surrounding areas as yellow as he made you feel, and you let him kiss your hand and ask for another date. You let him take you out on a second date, then a fourth, then before you realized it, you’d gone on ten dates of laughter, silly inside jokes, and painting the world around you yellow with the boy you’d met for the first time, twice.

And the first time that Peter bared his soul to you, was telling you that you’d fallen for him twice. It tore you apart inside to know that this wonderful, loving boy who had danced with you in the snow as himself and behind your cafe counter as a swaggering vigilante who liked to paint your cheeks red with flustered laughter, was out risking himself. But you let him take you on another date, and you let him come to your home window so that you could patch him up. And you couldn’t believe, that Peter Benjamin Parker, for as reckless as he was, was still flirting with you while sitting on the kitchen counter, was still gazing up at you with those honey brown eyes like you were his yellows and reds.

[bby666k]

i made a sort of spideypool x reader/listener audio w elevenlabs (that takes place in a literal lab😎)

i thought it was kinda cute n tried 2 make it funny

tasm!spidey (older ofc) bc i think andrew’s peter would have the best dynamic w ryan reynolds’s wade

context: listener is a superhero who spider-man called to help him and deadpool put together a tranquilizer formula to help paralyze/take down rhino. said superhero is very subtly dominant towards spidey n deadpool notices, conversation takes place right after the listener leaves to grab missing supplies!

[petertingle-yipyip]

Masterlist - 2022

Please keep in mind that these are marked even with the slightest occurrence. People’s tolerance/preference vary so in an effort to be respectful, I mark them all. I hope you enjoy but read everything at your own discretion. Also, everything is in release date order, meaning oldest pieces are linked first!

^ = Violence

* = Blood/Gore

+ = Language

~ = Explicit/Implied Sexual content

• = Personal/Crowd Favorite

Last Masterlist

Peter Parker

Song for no one (TASM!Peter) *+~•

SOUR Masterlist (MCU!Peter Parker; abandoned)+

Matt Murdock

Woman+~• // Woman 2~+

Fingers crossed *+

Drunk!Matt Headcannons

Angel Baby+

Nonsense Christmas+~

mad at god*+~^•

season one

season two

season 2b

Bucky Barnes

Sin Miedo Masterlist (abandoned)^+*

Marc Spector

Suncity•+

Dirty Thoughts ^+~

Steven Grant

Sweet Hibiscus Tea+

[psychedelic-ink]

— jumpsuit.

pairing: circus ringmaster!tasm!peter parker x animal rights activist!fem!reader

genre: dark circus au, enemies to lovers, smut

word count: 3.3k

warnings: enemies to lovers, peter's kinda sus, fourth wall break in like one sentence, mentions of animals being in cages, rough make-out session, mild dirty talking, hair pulling, vaginal s.ex

summary: you're an animal rights activist who has been closing down many circuses in your are due to animal cruelty, except for one: Spider’s Enchanting Circus. During a show you decide to sneak to take some pictures but the ringmaster is waiting for you.

a/n: this was written for @spidervee 's april is for au's writing event! Been wanting to write something like this for ages and finally this gave me motivation to do so, so thank you!! and a special thank you to @leydileyla who beta read this <33

I couldn't help myself and made a playlist for this click here to listen!

You despise all of it. 

You despise the smell of fresh popcorn, the scent of sweet cotton candy, the joyful chitter-chatter of the people, the laughing children who play far away from their mother’s long skirts. Every little bit of it makes your gut wrench in agony. You take in quick, sharp breaths and look up. The moon shines bright upon you all, the glow of the moonlight elevating everyone’s skin with a soft glow. A child bumps into you and you scorn at the young boy, hence making him run away with fear. You are not the monster here. The monster who you seeked and wished to bury was hiding amongst the comfort of his large, banal tent. The Spider’s Enchanting Circus lays ahead, red and white artificial fiber moving with the wind, mimicking the waves of a desolate sea. 

Quickly, you begrudgingly buy a ticket, the prices raised up due to your last minute purchase. You feign a smile at the seller and tip your hat, adjusting it so it would cover more of your features. You can’t afford anyone recognizing you now or later. Swiftly, you mix into the crowd, looking at them all with disgust as they were fooled by the colorful lights and sparkles of a well put on show. 

The true horror is beyond those curtains– the cruelty the animals must suffer under the hands of greedy humans. 

The Spider’s Enchanting Circus was the last circus still open for business. It aggravated you. The rest you had managed to close down with your colleagues, they had all gone down like domino stones, but not this one. The spider is too tricky. No photographing is allowed inside, no lingering after shows, no snooping around– Those animal rights activists who did manage to sneak around, got caught, came back the next day dazzled, saying there was no harm being done to animals. You believe the reason for this to be bribery. But who knows? Tonight you will find out everything.

With the rest of the crowd, you scurry inside. You’re highly agitated, annoyed whenever you see the twinkle inside of other’s eyes. You lift your gaze away from the ground, finally looking up as the corridor ends– 

This is the first time you see the inside. 

You hate to admit, but your heart begins to beat faster, fluttering in your chest as the breath is knocked from your lungs. The inside is huge, much bigger than you anticipated, fairy lights decorating above, mimicking the endless stars that decorate the night sky. You look ahead towards the stage, another stranger bumps into you, muttering about you blocking the way. Red and blue smoke covers the stage but you can faintly see the silhouettes of performers huddling within, you lick your lips as a child-like excitement fills your chest. Then you suddenly shake your head, blinking rapidly as you remember what you were doing here in the first place. Your lips forming a thin line, you part away from the crowd and walk beneath the benches. You were hoping this route is discreet enough and will eventually lead you backstage. 

Your plan is simple; Sneak backstage, take pictures of the caged animals and leave without anyone noticing you. Easy peasy. 

When you reach backstage you’re disappointed to see that no animals can be seen. There’s costumes, magic boxes and other items you’re not quite sure what they are. You hear a loud muffled clapping and cheering, and an announcer soon follows. Alerting you that the show has begun. The small hairs on your nape stand up, a chill overtaking your body as you frantically look around. You can’t shake the feeling of being watched. Placing a hand on your chest, you breathe– In and out– Slowly. It was just your nerves. No one is here… though… Now you think about it, why isn’t anyone backstage? 

“My my look at you,” 

A shudder crawls up your spine in the form of a spider, you feel sick as you slowly turn on your heel. You’ve never seen the ringmaster up close before, he’s much more…put together than you expected. He has dark brown, soft looking hair that gently curls above his forehead, the color of his eyes is a dark, warm chocolate and framed with long lashes. His smile is a mischievous one, the tip of his canines showing as it grows the more you stare. You swallow, eyes traveling lower while you take a step back. He has a lean, yet muscular body. He’s wearing a black tight suit, a top hat above his head and a fluffy boa wrapped loosely around his neck. He tilts his head to the side, you notice that he’s observing you as well. 

He tips his hat, his eyes never leaving your figure as they peek through his lashes. 

“I’ve been dying to meet you– The trouble-maker,” he purrs, there’s a certain melody to his voice and it makes you feel uneasy. 

You puff up your chest, feigning confidence as your nails digs into your palms. You’re not surprised that he knows of your presence, but you didn’t come here empty handed. 

“I’ve been dying to meet you too,” you lace your voice with venom. “Peter Parker.” 

He freezes upon hearing his name. Another shudder climbs up your spine, something dark passes through his gaze but he quickly hides it with a charming smile. But you can see as clear as day how tense his muscles got, his chin strained as he tries to keep up his facade. 

“Using name’s without one’s permission is quite rude, is it not?” he clicks his tongue. “And dangerous if I might add,” 

“Are you implying I’m in danger, Mr. Parker? If so, that would make my job much more easier,” 

“And what this job might be, y/n?” 

Your stomach churns when he uses your name, you should’ve expected it but it still comes as a shock. He walks forward and before you know it he’s behind you, his movements remind you of one of a snake. You feel Peter’s breath against your nape, goosebumps bursting across your skin. Embarrassingly enough your breath hitches. You can almost feel his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, your mind swirls. 

“You must think I’m a fool if you think I’ll tell you anything,” you chuckle but it sounds fake even to you. “I’ll be taking my leave now–” 

“Oh, you certainly won't be doing that–” he mutters your name directly into your ear, a sigh escapes your lips. 

He’s playing you like an instrument. You hate it. 

You part your lips to snap back but before you can you hear a lever being pulled and the floor disappears from underneath your feet. You scream as you fall into darkness, your hand reaching up in hopes to catch the light that slowly becomes smaller and smaller. You can vaguely see Peter falling right beside you, the frame of his face illuminated by the light that soon disappears completely, before it does you see his lips twisting into a sly grin and he winks at you. 

It feels like you’ve been falling forever. Your throat is sore from the screaming and your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest at any given moment. You’re not sure if your eyes are closed or you think of that due to the darkness– 

A soft light suddenly blinds you and you find yourself sprawled on top of endless animal plushies. Your chest heaves as you claw the soft toys, feeling their fur as you take in deep,sharp breaths. You scan your surroundings, there’s a piano in the corner and Peter stands right next to it, he’s unphased by the fall, his hair and smile still intact. You still feel a bit light headed as you collect yourself off of the pile of plushies. Holding your head you take a step closer to him, your eyes going in between Peter and the untouched, dusty piano. 

“You’re not going to sing to me are you?” you say, looking up to where you fell from. “And where the hell are we?” 

Peter chuckles but there’s no emotion behind it. 

“No, I’m not going to sing to you. Besides it would be quite hard to do in this form of media,” 

“What?” 

He quickly waves his hand, dismissing your question entirely. “Oh, nothing– Anyway as for your second question, we’re underneath the circus,” 

“Why did you bring me here?” 

“Just thought you and I should have a chat. I do know why you’re here you know, and I’m here to convince you whatever you think we’re doing, we are not,” 

You snort, “I have my doubts. You say you know why I’m here, enlighten me then,” 

You jump when the piano begins to play on its own. Your eyes widen with horror while Peter takes a step closer to you, his forefinger tapping against his jawline. 

“You think we torture animals,” he says, strolling around you like a vulture. You have trouble keeping an eye on him, you begin to sweat. “You’re an animal rights activist which is most admirable but you’re barking the wrong tree– We take good care of our animals as you can see,” 

The rest of the room lights up, the soft light now so bright that it burns your irises. You quickly squint, eyelids slowly opening as your eyes adjust and when your vision is completely clear, your jaw drops– the room, which is much bigger than a regular room, is filled with glass cages, in retrospect they’re clean, filled with trees, food and fresh air. How it has all those things confuses you but you opt to not question it. Somehow the glass cages are  much more open than most zoo’s and definitely much better than other circuses but it’s still wrong. It makes you sick. The individual cages contain lions, elephants and other animals. 

“See they’re all cared for, no need to fret,” 

“You’re sick,” you snarl, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “These are still cages, it doesn’t matter how nice it may seem,” 

“Well, what shall we do in this predicament then? What’s your big bold plan that’s going to close down my circus?” 

“I…I’ll take pictures–” 

“With this?” Peter holds up the camera that was supposed to be in your bag. “Sorry darling, you won’t be getting evidence of what goes down in my circus,” 

Again, Peter’s behind you, his chest brushing against your back as he holds the camera an inch away from your face. He lets it fall to the floor, a loud crash is heard, it breaks into a million pieces. Your brows furrow with frustration, anger growing inside of you the longer you stare at the broken machine. The piano is still playing, a bit faster now. Your breath stutters. 

“You asshole–” 

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” 

Peter is suddenly in front of you once again, you grit your teeth and lunge forward. He swiftly moves away from your hands that had no aim and chuckles. Peter playfully turns on his heel and rolls his shoulders, you want to strangle him. 

“Now what?” you hiss. “Are you going to keep me in a cage too?” 

Peter curiously raises his eyebrow, a cat-like smile spreading across his lips as he walks towards you. He stops only an inch away, he raises his gloved hand and gently tilts your head up by your chin. Your body heats up when he forces you to lock your gaze with him, your lips part and you let out a silent gasp. 

“Now that’s rather an enticing idea but no. I do not plan on keeping you hostage, quite the contrary in fact, you’ll be walking out of here quite regularly so you don’t need to fear me or my circus,” 

“I do not fear you.” you jeer. “And you can’t silence me. I’ll keep coming back.” 

“That’s the outcome I’m hoping for. It would pain me to never see you again.” 

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish. You’re lost for words, not really knowing how to respond to his flirtatious remarks as he still holds his finger under your chin. You absolutely hate how conceited he is, how sure of himself he is– Yet your curiosity edges you to explore more. Peter’s smile only grows, his thumb slides up your jaw and brushes against your lips. He presses his thumb and without even thinking you part your lips. You stop breathing when he slides the limb between them, the taste of leather heavy on your tongue as he feels the wet muscle. 

“Look at that, it seems you don’t see me as a complete monster– Ouch!”

Peter yanks his hand away, hissing at the pain as you shoot him a triumphant smile. Upon noticing your reaction he laughs, tilting his head as he licks his lips. 

“You bit me?” he asks despite knowing that you did. “Maybe I should keep you in a cage,” 

You only smile, flashing him your teeth as he hurriedly makes his way towards you. Before you can react, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back. He dives into your fully exposed neck, tracing his tongue against the artery, he drags his teeth as well. You groan at the feeling, your body growing hot by the second. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest and your head begins to spin, mild jolts of pain spread throughout your scalp but you don’t object to it. Peter’s mouth moves against the underside of your jaw, his lips crashing down on yours in a bruising kiss. 

Peter sucks the air from your lungs and you fear this might’ve been his plan all along. His free hand travels down your body, feeling everything you have to offer. He shoves his tongue in your mouth, tasting you as your teeth clank together, his nose smushed against yours as he cocks his head to the side. He cups one of your breasts and squeezes, it coaxes a sheer moan out of you and you break the kiss, breathing heavily as he grins down at you. 

“You like that?” he whispers, he flattens his tongue against your lips and chuckles. “I thought I was a menace?” 

“Shut up,” you groan. “You talk to much,” 

“Do I, now? I haven’t noticed–” 

You drown out the words he’s about to blabber with a kiss of your own, you can feel him smiling against it and it agitates you further. Your hands claw at his chest, desperately trying to unbutton his obnoxious shirt. Peter’s hands come down to your wrists and squeeze them, it’s uncharastically gentle. He moans into your mouth as he guides you, hips grinding against yours while you finally manage to strip him. The fluffy boa falls to the floor along with the shirt, your fingertips traveling along his taut muscles. Peter takes a step forward and you take one back, your lips never leaving one another until you fall on top of the pile of plushies. You look up to him, flustered as you take in the sight of his body. He begins to undo his belt and gestures to your clothes with his eyes. 

“Strip.” 

“I’m doing no such thing while you’re looking at me like a piece of meat,” 

“I’m merely returning the look you’re giving to me,” he purrs. “Now strip, or do you want me to do that for you?” 

You glare at him as you throw your cap to the side and pull off your shirt. 

“Good girl.” 

Your body reacts at his words, your cunt fluttering while you quickly tug down your pants and as soon as you do Peter, the ringmaster you wanted to throw into prison, is all over you. His lips are on your neck, both hands on your breasts, fingers pinching your nipples as you close your eyes in pure ecstasy. Your lips part with a moan you’re ashamed to make but you can’t help it as the man devours you like a man starving. Peter grinds his cock against your stomach, it feels hot against your skin and your back arches. He sinks his teeth into your neck as a response, he bites it so hard that your fingers threads his hair, tugging harshly so that he’ll let go. Peter sucks on your skin one last time before letting go of you with a pop. His one hand travels between your writing bodies, his fingers curling around his cock, he positions it so it’s resting right between your wet folds. 

When his length rubs against your clit, you can’t help the way you cry out. 

“Tell me what you want and don’t hold back on the details,” 

Your breathing hitches, lungs burning as you contemplate if you should answer him or not. While the silence grows between the two of you, your awareness of what you were doing also grows. But despite it, you don’t want to stop. Peter grins, grinding his hips once more, he intently watches the way your face contorts with pleasure. 

“I do have a show to run, you know? I don’t have all day,” 

You decide to trade your pride in for only mere moments of pleasure, hopefully it’ll be worth it. 

“I want you to fuck me,” you choke out. “I want you to make me cum again and again as you whisper absolute filth into my ear– Does that sound like something you can do, Peter Parker?” 

“Oh, I’m loving this. Don’t worry y/n, I’m not letting you leave this circus until you’re thoroughly satisfied,” he groans and presses his face into the crook of your neck. “You’re so fucking wet,” 

Your cheek heats up at the remark but you have little time to drown in embarrassment as he pushes in with one swift motion. Your eyes open wide, heart fluttering as your cunt squeezes around him. The way he stretches you is indescribable, his cock reaching your deepest parts while he nibbles your neck. Groaning, you roll your hips and the both of you groan and the overwhelming sensations. Peter chuckles, his lips travel down and he sucks one nipple into his mouth as he begins to rock his hips. 

You’re left breathless at the way he thrusts into you; Fast, hard and calculated. He’s hitting all the spots to make your head spin, meanwhile his tongue dances along your fully erect nipple. Peter is playing you like an instrument, every moan and whimper he coaxes out of you is a new set of lyrics accompanying the melody of the piano. Slick dribbles down your thighs and further wet’s his cock, every time he thrusts his hips, your eyes roll back at the way his pelvis hits your clit. Heat builds within you, it leaves you desperately chasing for your inevitable release. Your thighs tremble, your back arches, Peter lets go of your nipple and drowns out the voices you make by pressing his lips against yours. 

Your orgam washes over you in the form of violent waves. Your eyelids flutter as you part away by moaning his name, your cunt gushes around his cock, endless amounts of slick dripping down to the floor. Peter occupies his mouth by nipping at your jawline, he grinds his hips and each time he does another jolt of pleasure electrifies your nerves. 

Peter is the one to break the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting the both of you as he looks down and smiles. 

“It looks like that was most pleasurable,” 

“You’re a nuisance,” you mutter between pants. “This changes absolutely nothing,” 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind after I keep good on my promise,” 

“Whis is…?” 

“Not letting you leave until you’re thoroughly satisfied,” he keens as he rolls his hips. Your eyes immediately roll back, only now you realize that he’s still fully hard. “After that you can hate me all you want.” 

“I don’t need to wait that long. I’m currently hating you right now.” 

“That’s a shame because I’m loving you right now.” 

A/N: to be notified of future work follow @burnthoneymintsathenaeum​ and turn on notifications✨

[underoospeterparker]

ngl tasm!peter's suit is SICK af

definitely the best spiderman suit

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

# ― 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋

steve rogers

bucky barnes

tony stark

thor odinson

loki laufeyson

matthew murdock

peter parker

natasha romanov

wanda maximoff

[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.”

[epilary]

your instagram when meeting musician!tasm!peter parker masterlist | requests open

Liked by guinevere and 45 others

y/n★彡  still not over web-slinger’s performance 🤭🫶 

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→ y/n★彡 but that song about spiderman?? not my favorite :// (ignore how much i love the band’s name)

     → guinevere HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT? it’s so sweet :(

     → y/n★彡 okay i’ll like it just for you babe

→ pete.p. Happy you liked it! (Of course, ‘spider’s web’ isn’t everyone’s favorite 😞)

Liked by guinevere and 3718 others

pete.p.  Glad you all enjoyed the show this weekend!! (despite the apparent dislike of ‘spider’s web’ by a couple people :/)

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→ y/n★彡 i loved it so much!!! (sorry for hating your spiderman fanboy song)

     → pete.p. Well I mean at least you like the other ones

→ user123 AHHH IT WAS GREAT!! I CAUGHT THE BRACELET!

Liked by y/n★彡 and 4172 others

pete.p.  Another concert next weekend!! Grab some VIP tickets when you’re there to check out the backstage 🎸

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→ quinevere omg y/n★彡 you should totally get a backstage pass

     → y/n★彡 not if they’re like a hundred bucks 😭

     → pete.p. I think I could hook you up ;)

Liked by the_flash and 63 others

y/n★彡  AHH THE CONCERT WAS AMAZING!! the band is so kind and genuinely funny 

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→ pete.p. We enjoyed it too 

     → y/n★彡 can’t wait to see you (guys) again! 

→ the_flash Wow you are obsessed with them

     → y/n★彡 says mr. has a home made poster of them

     → guinevere you kind of had that coming flash 🫢

Liked by pete.p. and 74 others

y/n★彡  you’ll never guess who i ran into..

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→ guinevere you’re living the life everyone’s dreamed of

     → y/n★彡 i know 😭 it’s amazing

→ pete.p. Happy to see you ;)

Liked by guinevere and 3817 others

pete.p.  Enjoying some late day rehearsals

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→ guinevere bet it’s amazing to watch them rehearse

     → y/n★彡 yeah… i bet it is 🤭

→ the_flash You should play at midtown college

     → pete.p. People have been saying that recently! We’ll have to see

[iridescentparkers]

dancing in the dark - peter parker

➳ pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader

➳ summary: living the bridgerton fantasy may be a little out of reach, but dancing like them with the man of your dreams may be a little closer than you think.

➳ word count: 0.7k

➳ warnings: none

Your eyes aligned with the darkened sky, moving lazily to the detailed and stoned exterior of the lively home. 

Reaching the grassy fields, traveling miles and miles down secretive forest paths, you watched what was occurring in front of you.

Chatter spread amongst the lively home, and just above each voice lay harmonies from the band. The sounds were so dissonant yet so in tune with one another. Each one created a scene so exciting for those in attendance.

Inside, you watched as young women danced in sync with their partners. You watched as men smiled down at each lady. Not one would move their eyes away from the beautiful woman they had for the night. 

Each man had power in their own gracious steps, but so did each woman. The flow of their dresses moving gracefully with each carefully placed step left you in awe. 

“Why can’t I have that?”

“Have what?” Peter called from the kitchen, finishing the last of the dishes in the sink. 

“A simple life like the women in Bridgeton.” You huffed, pausing the show and throwing the remote on the sofa. 

Peter turned off the running water and placed a final plate in the dishwasher, “You mean like when women were property to their husbands and had to dedicate their lives to their children?”

“Haha, very funny, Mr. feminist,” you remarked, rolling your eyes as you shoved Peter’s side as he sat down. “I’m serious, Peter.”

Peter rubbed his side as he sat up to look at you, “What seems so simple about Bridgerton? From watching it with you, if anything, courting seems way too complicated.”

“If you come from the wrong family, it is. But I want to be like them. Socializing and trying on beautiful dresses each day, and then dancing the night away when it’s all over,” you stated to Peter, pushing your hair further behind your face as Peter rested a gentle hand on your leg. 

Peter grinned, cupping your cheek in his hand, “Really?”

“Really.”

“Ok,” he stated before pushing his glasses further on his face and placing a quick pat on your leg. 

“Where are you-“

“I’ll be right back.”’

You pressed your back to the sofa for a few moments, quirking a brow as you listened to the movement from upstairs. A few clashes and banging of items would pass here and there before you heard Peter again.

“Got it!”

You turned around and watched as Peter rushed down the stairs, then smiled to himself as he held a small black duffel bag. 

“Now, the first thing is a little out of my reach, but I can help you with the second one.”

“What’s that?”

“My uncle's old record player. He gave it to me a while back, but I never got the chance to use it,” he explained as he pulled it and a few records out of the bag. “But you said you wanted to dance, so here it is.”

He placed the bag aside and put the player on the coffee table in front of him,” You ok?”

Your jaw gaped open, and you quickly closed it,” Ye-Yeah, I’m fine.”

“While I move this table, pick a song out of the bag.”

At last…

“I take back what I said.”

“Oh god, what this time?” Peter asked, cheek pressed into your own, slightly slurring his words as you both moved around the room.

…my love has come along.

You chuckled at yourself, arms wrapped behind and upwards on Peter’s back as you danced chest to chest, “Dancing like the Bridgerton’s takes too much effort.”

“I tried to tell you.”

“Whatever,” You laughed, both chuckling and swaying in unison. Peter moved his cheek from your own to your shoulder, leaving his arms around your waist as he pulled you in closer.

My lonely days are over.

“Peter?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

And life is like a song.

“This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

At last, the skies above are blue.

“It is?”

“Yes,” you stated, leaning in deeper to the lazy movements you both allowed your bodies to meld into one another. 

My heart was wrapped up in clover.

“And Peter?”

He laughed lightly, smiling from ear to ear as he felt the vibrations from the outside of your chest, “Yes, my love?”

“I want to know what sent you to me,” you stated, running your fingers through the ends of his hair. 

The night I looked at you.

Peter arose from his leaning position, grabbing one of your hands and linking his fingers with your own, “Because you truly are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

[undiscovered-horizon]

Author's note: I modelled for the first time. My lower back is dead.

Imagine sketching Peter for class.

The afternoon was a perfect time to sit in the studio: sunlight barged into the room through the wide windows, warming up the hardwood floor scattered with paint splashes. Canvases were stacked against the walls - an unseen collection of the only painter he ever cared about. Hesitantly, Peter sat in a chair a few feet away from the easel.

"So, uh... Do I just sit here?"

He looked curiously small on the chair; anxious that he might disturb the artistic sanctity of the studio. Peter's eyes glazed over the random pots, vases and rocks scattered around the room - it didn't come to him at first that they were props for putting up still nature. The aforementioned canvases, as much as he could see, all had your name written on their backs and Peter began to wonder whether all of them were a breathtaking show of your artistry.

Peter loved your paintings and not only because they were yours - it felt as if, for a moment, he got to see the world through your eyes and the sight he was presented had never been short of wonderful. Anytime you showed him your newest piece, he fantasised what it would be like to be the subject of your art: did you see him as equally beautiful as you did the rest of the world? But now that the moment of truth came a-knocking at his door, Peter felt uneasy. He wasn't sure whether his lovesick heart could take so much of your undivided attention.

"Yeah, pretty much," you shrugged. It escaped your attention that reddish bashfulness crept unto his face seeing you in the baggy shirt. The once white material was wrinkly, dirtied with various paints, glue, charcoal and spray paint. Peter found it endearing that you carried a tortillon and a piece of chalk in the chest pocket. "Whatever's comfortable for you. We'll take a break after every forty-five minutes but if you need one earlier just say so."

"Alright," he answered with a slight nod.

The smaller, less precise, sketch you began making on a smaller piece of paper was coming together a little too fast to simply be a drawing of a silhouette you were portraying for the very first time. Maybe Peter's lovelorn anxiety would ease if he was to see all of the sketches of him you had already made - each one more secretive than the other, drawn with passion but quite a little time, using up all the minutes you could spare during class.

"Let me just mark where your feet are," you said while stretching a long piece of tape. "And we can start."

Except for the creaking floorboard and the sounds of traffic outside, the studio was silent. With utmost loving fascination, Peter watched you working. Each of the quick and ever-so-frequent glances you spared him, were piercing through his body. Sitting there, although he was fully clothed, Peter felt naked under your focused gaze; there wasn't a wrinkle on his clothes or a freckle on his skin that could escape the eagle eyes of an artist committing a masterpiece. He knew that he wasn't supposed to move around a lot and, to be frank, didn't want to disturb you but there was a thought he couldn't quite let go.

"Can I ask you something?" he interrupted the pleasant silence.

"What's up?" You appeared greatly unbothered by the disturbance, still sketching and checking proportions with your pencil.

"Why did you choose me?" he asked in a quiet hesitation. Partially, he expected a completely mundane answer regarding availability. The more naive part of him, however, clung to the delusion that there was a different, less platonic, reason.

Upon hearing the question, you stopped drawing. Peter caught your gaze but not for long - you went back to sketching but in a visibly less relaxed manner. Noticing your sudden, unexpected uneasiness, Peter wanted to apologize but your answer came sooner:

"Well..." you trailed off, thinking about what to say for a moment. "We were drawing poem titles from a hat. I got 'When' by Lang Leav."

"Don't know it." Peter slightly shook his head but stopped nearly right away, remembering that he was supposed to sit still.

"It ends beautifully," you told him. Peter noticed the softness of your voice along with the gentle smile that appeared on your face as if at that moment you were reliving those last words from a poem. Standing there, with afternoon sunlight brightening up your tender joy, Peter suddenly knew everything he needed to about art. "Remember this and only this, if nothing else you can recall. There was a life a girl once led where you were loved the most of all."

You quoted the poem with such ease as if a garden of blooming roses didn't just rip his chest open.

[knucklescum]

Pollen - tasm!Peter Parker x fem!Reader

Pairing: tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: SMUT!!! swearing, mentions of experiments? unprotected sex

You and Spidey aren’t exactly friends. He’s the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man whilst you were - quite possibly - the complete opposite. Spidey stops the little guys: the corner store burglars, the car hijackers, the pick-pockets. You, on the other hand, spend your days tackling organised crime, taking down rings of the worst criminals imaginable and outing people of power as the monsters that they truly were. You were both doing something meaningful, you guessed, but there was no denying that your work was far more important.

Despite your starkly different targets, the two of you often bumped into each other. Tonight, however, both of you were headed to the same place

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Spider-Man.” you mock as he swings his way towards you, planting his feet onto the roof beside you. “Wait,” you pause, sitting up and glaring at the man. “You’re not here with them, are you?”

“With th-what?” he shakes his head. “I’m looking for my bodega guy’s cat.” he states as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ah, a cat. Of course.” you jokingly nod along, a sigh escaping your lips.

“Always with the attitude.” he says, sliding himself down the unit behind him to sit opposite you. “I’m guessing some real shit is going down here, then?” he says. “It’s never just friendly neighbourhood stuff when you’re involved.”

You let out a hum in agreement, nodding your head before turning back to your binoculars.

After a good few minutes of silence, you assume that Spidey had swung off into the night to continue his own mission (or, cat rescue). Once you turn your head, you’re shocked to see that Spider-Man is still sitting opposite you, peering down onto the buildings below.

“Don’t you have a cat to rescue?” you laugh, placing your binoculars onto the wall beside you.

“I mean - I did.” he shrugs. “But this seems more important.”

He stands up, his tall frame towering over you as he steps towards you before quickly sitting beside you. 

“Do you know what’s happening in there?” he says, gesturing to the building that you had been watching.

You contemplate telling him. 

He does the little stuff, this isn’t his problem! 

Then again, you could use some help.

“Some sort of experiment.” you say, anxiously pulling your knees to your chest. “At first I thought it was some kind of drug ring. They were always carrying plants in and out of the building,” you say. “ I assumed it was just weed so decided to leave it alone. I came back to check it one night, just in case,”  you gesture, Spidey nodding along in agreement. “It definitely isn’t weed.”

“What?” Spidey leans in for you to continue. 

“I have no idea - but when they carried the plants in this time, they were in full on safety gear. Suits, masks, gloves, the lot. And the plants were in containers.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” he says, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“No shit.” you mutter, standing up in an attempt to focus back on the matter at hand. 

You hear him shuffle on the spot behind you before he gets up, joining you at your side once again.

“Are we going in there then?”

You turn to face him, a shocked expression on your face at his uncharacteristic brashness. Uncharacteristic when it comes to situations such as this, anyway.

“You aren’t worried about the possibly deadly plants?”

“Eh, we’ll figure something out.”

-----

You definitely shouldn’t be here - although you guessed if you weren’t, nobody would be. 

The two of you had somehow snuck in undetected, currently finding yourselves in a large, dark room lit only by blue overhead lights. Odd looking plants covered the room, one of the walls completely coated in leafy green. There was nothing particularly off putting about it all except for one thing: the smell.

“What do you think it is?” you ask, uncharacteristically close to Spidey, in fear of what you could have possibly stumbled across.

“Uh- I’m not sure,” he stammers. “Look closely, can you see that?”

He gestures to the plant closest to you, his gloved finger flicking one of the leaves.

With a squint, you spot it. There is some sort of dust, a glowing residue surrounding each leaf.

You look back to the man beside you, surprised to see him pulling nervously at his suit.

“Warm?” you tease, chuckling as you walk further into the endless rows of plants.

You hear him shuffling around before you turn your attention back to the plants, looking for any kind of clue to identify them.

“H-hey, don’t get too close” he says, his voice strained as you stare back at him, an amused smirk on your face. “The pl-plants. Get away from them.”

“Come on now, Spidey. Scared of a few plants?” you laugh, although you can’t help but notice the weird tingling sensation slowly growing throughout your body.

You pull at your sleeves awkwardly, suddenly becoming extremely aware of your clothes against your skin.

The two of you catch each other’s eyes as you frantically start tugging at your clothes, your skin desperate for air.

“What’s happening?” you ask as you become increasingly more aware of your bodies. 

An intense heat grows between your legs as you edge closer to the suddenly extremely attractive, masked man in front of you. Your eyes scan his frame to find a large imprint on his thigh, the shape begging to be freed.

“W-we need to get o-out of here,” he says, pulling at the neck of his suit so harshly that it could rip any second now.

You grab his hand as he starts to run in an attempt to find an exit, the warmth of his gloved hand against yours too much to endure.

You reach the door you entered through, only to find it locked.

No fucking way.

“You’re joking!” you exclaim, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your equally sweaty hand. “What do we do?”

You stare at Spidey, your eyes unintentionally moving over his entire body as you slide to the floor in defeat.

“I think you know, (y/n).”

Feeling his eyes on you, you move your focus back to his masked face.

You don’t even attempt to fight the feeling as you begin pulling your clothes off, tugging your shirt over your head in an attempt to dispel the ever growing heat on your skin.

“Is this a good idea?” you ask as you shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you in just your underwear, crawling desperately onto his lap.

“Probably not,” he answers, lifting the bottom of his mask to reveal his lips before pulling you closer.

In an instant your lips are on his, tasting the sweat and saliva and everything good as his tongue searches your mouth for something, anything.

His lips feel as though they were made just for you, although that may just be the chemicals talking.

Unable to control yourself, you grind against his thigh, eliciting the most wanting noise from his throat. 

“Fuck. What are we doing?” he pants as he grinds up against you, his hands sliding frantically up your back. 

“I think you know, Spider-Man.” you mock as you continue to move on him. “Take this off,” you whisper into his mouth, pulling at his skin tight suit.

He moves his hands to undo the zip, quickly pulling it down before returning his hands to you, rubbing them against your thighs.

You tug at the suit, managing to reveal his toned chest, letting your hands explore the new found skin. 

“I can’t hold back much longer,” he breathes. “I need you, (y/n).”

The sound of his voice uttering your name echoes around your head, going straight the bundle of nerves between your legs.

“What are you going to do about it?” you tease, although you’d guess that you were just as desperate as him.

“Always such a tease,” he utters before standing up, lifting you up with him. 

You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you over to one of the counters, pushing off several of the plant pots as he plants you onto the surface. 

Before you can even comprehend it, his suit is fully off (bar his mask), his hand on his solid, lengthy cock.

Your eyes widen at its size before Spidey’s gentle chuckle pulls your attention back to the rest of him.

“Where have you been hiding that?” you ask, a teasing smile on your face, although your legs pulling him closer give you away.

He gives a playful nod before ripping your underwear from you, the air on your vulva easing the intense heat, if only slightly.

“Are you done being a brat?” he says, his tip brushing against your wetness.

In an instant, any mocking or teasing thoughts are vanquished from your brain and replaced only with desire.

“I want you.” you whisper.

“Good girl.”

With no hesitation, he pushes into you. The two of you make a unanimous sound of pleasure as his cock stretches you - you’re too hungry for him to even notice any pain.

Using your legs, you pull him in even tighter, his dick just brushing the spot.

As he pushes in and out of you, your desperation only grows.

“Harder, Spidey.” you pant, your hands sliding up to his neck.

“Call m-,” he interrupts himself with a groan. “Call me Peter.”

You don’t think twice about the fact the mysterious Spider-Man has just revealed his name to you, only that you want Peter to fuck you much harder, much faster than he currently is.

“Fuck me, Peter.” 

Suddenly, his speed picks up and the sounds - oh god the sounds! He’s moaning and panting and you’re oh so wet.

You begin to grind yourself upwards, meeting him in the middle of each thrust as his hands leave all sorts of marks up your thighs and into your waist. 

A tight knot starts to form inside of you as Peter hits all of the right places. 

Your fingertips find strands of hair at the base of his neck as he leaves kisses all over your chest. Desperate for something to tug on, your hands sneak under the back of his mask, spreading your fingers to pull at his hair. Peter pounds into you as your fingers make their way up his head, your knuckles slowly edging his mask upwards and off of him.

Peter makes no attempt to stop you as you push the mask off of him, revealing his - unbelievably gorgeous - face.

Instantly, your fingers push deeper into his hair as his lips plant kisses up your neck, eventually finding your lips once again.

“Peter,” you moan into his mouth, a guttural noise escaping his lips in return.

“I’m so close,” he breathes, pushing deeper into you.

“Wait for me,” you utter, the knot in your stomach becoming even tighter.

“I-I-fuck, (y/n),” he moans, his thrusts becoming more sporadic as he loses all composure.

You tug tighter on his hair as the knot comes undone, your moans filling the room. 

As you feel yourself coming, Peter’s movements become slow, his warm liquid pouring into you. 

“Peter,” you moan, your hands releasing his hair, your arms falling to your chest.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, causing a mixture of the two of your liquids to spill out of you. 

His eyes scan the room before he finds what he was looking for, picking up your underwear from the floor and wiping any juices from your skin.

You hum in thanks before he tosses the underwear to the side.

“I guess we have to leave them some sort of evidence that their freaky plants work.” Peter laughs. You shake your head in response, a smile on your face as you stand up from the counter.

A/N i had noooo idea how to end this so i hope it’s okay! also sorry for being gone for months, your girl has been working - gotta make that money!

[starfa11]

okay, tiiiiny continuation of my falling in love with spider-man but being rivals with peter parker idea.

Fourth of July

It’s been a shitty day, let’s face it. It’s infinitely easier to sit on a new york rooftop with the cold nipping your fingers and the occasional sad song playing than it is to let yourself wallow in self-pity and loathing. Going to school was hard and finding the motivation to keep up your grades was even harder, so staring at the city's smog and listening to music was an outlet, safe, quiet, and uninterrupted. Or so you thought, because when Spider-man lands on your roof, all swagger and sarcasm, it takes everything in your being not to break into uncontrollable tears at the intrusion. It’s like he knew, it was like he heard, and if you were being truthful he probably did. There was a frown in his voice when he finally broke the sullen silence, “So…” and he drew out the syllables of it like he just didn’t know how to comfort somebody on a rooftop, and that thought alone was laughable, and he watched as a gentle light returned to your face. He stopped by enough as a masked vigilante to know the tells, but he’d never seen this. You didn’t show this in class or hallways, this burnt-out, hollow human being, part of him hurt, as he stood. “You’re going to freeze out here without a jacket on” “And you won’t freeze in skin-tight spandex?”. It was a snarky comment, not intended to hurt, just intended to prompt banter, which he complied with easily, “Getting cold is the least of my worries, rooftop girl” and there was a semi-sweet grin behind his tone as the conversation continued, flowed really as he listened to you, somehow giving you undivided attention. And he couldn’t help but smile because looking at the moon, acting like loons, while you seemed to be two seconds too close to tears was almost too much for him to handle, but he was okay with that, it felt like the Fourth of July, when he looked at the fireworks in your eyes.