#tasm Peter fluff

[madwcman]

tasm! Peter kissing reader any chance he gets?

a/n: thank you for requesting <3

pairing: tasm! peter x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m too sweet?”

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

[spiderfunkz]

thinking about peter parker whos girlfriend is a total book nerd . . . where he'd always take you on dates to the bookstore and insists on buying you a new book. where he'd follow you around the store like a lost puppy while you run around trying to find the book you want.

peter parker who'd always be there to comfort you when your favorite character meets their end, where he would say, "maybe they'll get resurrected in the next book, who knows?" while awkwardly smiling, which usually puts you in the mood again to smile and laugh at his attempt to comfort you. "the series is done peter, that was the last book." you sniff, "hey maybe they'll do a cameo in the prequel!"

peter parker who'd listen to your rambles about your most recent read and do research afterwards because he couldn't process all the lore properly and got confused halfway as you were talking. but even when he is confused, he still listens and nods anyways.

peter parker who waited for it to rain at night so he could recreate the 'kissing & dancing in the rain' scene from one of your favorite books because you wouldn't stop talking about it, and he personally thinks you deserve to experience that at least once. you both ended up getting a cold

peter parker who lays beside you and reads comics while you're reading your books. where he'd slowly inch closer and closer to you and rest his head on your shoulder, placing his comic book down and just slowly fall asleep on your shoulder as you whisper the lines from your book.

peter parker who'd secretly read along from behind and dramatically gasps when a character does something remotely weird. where at the end you two would just start gossiping about how that character would do such things.

[evsstolenhearts]

Summary: Peter seems to be jealous of a plushie

TASM!Peter parker x gn!reader | roughly 500 words

Warnings: none? Lemme know if there is any, as well as typos! :]

A/N: totally not my first full fic on my account that has nothing to do with spiderman

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

Hours prior Peter left to go patrol, leaving you to do what you want in his apartment. So, now you lay in Peter's bed, scrolling on your phone as you doze in and out of sleep. While warm under the covers in Peters hoodie, your plushie is held tightly in your arms.

At some point in the night, you completely fall asleep. Which is destroyed by someone trying to take your plushie.

"Shhh, go back to sleep baby..." the voice indicating this person is your boyfriend, Peter.

"Peter!" You groan and roll over, taking the stuffed animal with you, "stop trying to take him."

While you close your eyes and hold the plushie tight, Peter crawls the rest of the way onto the bed, having at some point changed out of his spider-man suit and into sweats and a t-shirt while you slept.

"I'm not trying to take him, I'm just..." he pauses to find an excuse, "...looking at him."

While talking, Peter is behind you, half up on one elbow as he trys to wrangle the plushie from you, clearly not using all his strength in chance of ripping it.

"Looks at him from a distance." You grumble and roll onto your stomach, now on top of the stuffed animal.

Peter dramatically plops flat down on the bed, staring holes into the soft fabric that's barely visible. Moments pass and it stays silent, until you finally speak up.

"Why do you want him?" You turn your head to glare half heartedly at your boyfriend as he continues to stare down the plushie.

"Hes stealing my job." Peter says, dead serious.

"Your job?" Your glare breaks as you smile, now more amused than anything.

"My job." He reiterates.

"Which is?" Rolling over to face Peter, the adorable face in the plushie staring back at him.

"Cuddling you." Peter says with full confidence. He works quickly to grab the plushie out of your hands, throwing it across the room.

"Hey!" You yell through laughter as he replaces the plushie, placing his arms around your waist, head squished on your chest, and legs being entangled with yours. The blankets having also moved off your body with all the commotion.

"Could have done this thing called asking you know." You wrap one arm around him, as one hand gently scratches his scalp. "Didn't have to throw my child across the room."

"Theres no fun in that." Peter mumbles into your skin with a faint smile, eyes already closed, and much more visibly relaxed.

Without continuing to try and have a conversation with the obviously sleepy thief, you close your eyes and attempt to fall asleep along with him.

Masterlists

[flightlessangelwings]

The Way We Feel When We Dance

Tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Word count-3.9k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), reader dances, protective!Peter, harassment, Spiderman picks up reader (he has super strength but still I wanted to add this here), reader is hinted to be more curvy but it open to interpretation, fluff, feelings, Peter and reader are both adults and are at a dance club in the beginning, no use of y/n

Notes- This is a very late part 2 of my 5k follower thank you gift fics (I did one Pedro character and one non Pedro character lol). Thank you all who have been following and supporting me and my works here! While this reader is not physically described at all other than body parts, I pictured and heavily implied that she is Latina here. But it can absolutely still be read by anyone. Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that as well and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

~

The pulse of the upbeat Latin music reverberated through the room as the lights danced in harmony with the beat. Sweaty bodies filled the dance floor that all moved to the rhythm. Feet stepped in time with the beat as hips swayed from side to side and arms shimmied with purpose. Smiles and laughter filled the air between each dancer as everyone had a fun time dancing the night away.

From the edge of the room, Peter sat at the bar. Even though the crowd, his gaze stayed solely on you. You captivated him with the way you danced to the music, carefree and beautiful. Your outfit accentuated your hips perfectly, and Peter couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.

Feeling his eyes on your figure, you opened your own from when you closed them from getting lost in the music. When your gaze met his, a bright smile lit up your face, which Peter mirrored. He raised his glass up in cheers as he watched you melodically make your way across the dance floor. A tinge of heat rose across Peter’s face as you stared at him with intent as you closed the gap between your bodies.

“Why don’t you join me, Peter?” you asked in a sultry tone as you swayed your body against his.

Peter’s cheeks reddened, “You know I have two left feet, sweetheart,” he giggled, feeling like a schoolboy around you.

You smirked as you leaned in closer to murmur in his ear, “You can swing from building to building hundreds of feet in the air,” you teased, “And you’re afraid to dance in public?”

“It’s not the same,” he retorted playfully as he nudged your side. Peter’s gaze dropped down to where your hips still swayed from side to side in a slow, lazy rhythm, “Besides, I’m enjoying my view right now.”

“Oh come on, Pete,” you pleaded as you slid your hand in his, “Here I’ll start off with an easy one. It’s three steps, I think you can handle it.”

“But…”

“Come on, babe!” Your instance was firm yet light-hearted. You knew if he truly didn’t want to dance, he would stop you, and you wouldn’t force it. Sometimes, your boyfriend just needed a little encouragement. And besides, you really wanted to feel his arms around you and the two of you danced together to the beat of the music, letting the rest of the world fade away…

Peter’s nervous giggle got drowned out by the music as he allowed you to guide him back to the dance floor. With all his strengths as Spiderman, Peter knew that you were his ultimate weakness, and he couldn’t deny you anything even if he wanted to. So, he could put his insecurities aside for the night and dance with you. Besides, holding you close as you lost yourselves in the music wasn’t a terrible thought…

“Put your arms on my waist,” you instructed once you found a spot on the dance floor with some space to move.

“Gladly,” Peter grinned widely as he did so.

You rolled your eyes for a moment, but let out a soft gasp when you felt his tight grip on your body. It made your heart pound more than the dancing did as the warmth and security of his embrace engulfed you, and you lost yourself for a moment. It was only your name in Peter’s voice that brought you back, “Right,” you met his eyes as you placed your hands on his shoulders, “Ok, watch me and do what I do in reverse.”

Peter swallowed hard and nodded as his gaze slowly ran down your body. He took the opportunity to study your outfit and how good it looked on you up close, and he memorized every inch of your figure.

“Like this,” you started slowly, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you stepped to the rhythm in a simple motion, “One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three,” you stepped back and first, side to side as your hips shimmied to the music.

Peter tried his best to keep up, but under your lead, he found he quickly fell into the rhythm. 

“That’s it!” you exclaimed as you started to pick up your pace to better match the beat that played around you.

Laughter erupted from Peter as he felt himself get lost in the music too. The Latin beat that played highlighted your movements as the two of you danced together, wrapped in each other’s arms. A grin of your own lit up your face as your lips parted in a wide smile and you started to add more flair to your movements.

Peter was captivated. He almost forgot to move as he watched you lose yourself in the music. You looked so beautiful like this, and Peter counted himself the luckiest man in the world to get to have you, to get to be with you. A stupid smile lit up his face as he lost the rhythm on the song that played from being too enthralled with you.

Until…

“Ow!” you exclaimed as you suddenly stopped dancing.

“Sorry!” Peter realized what the problem was: he was so focused on you that he accidentally stepped on your foot, “Sorry, sweetheart,” he repeated as he caressed your shoulders, “You alright?”

“I”m fine,” you waved it off with a laugh. Feeling his grip on you, suddenly the music faded away and your world became just Peter. The way he held you and the way he looked at you made your heart flip in your chest, and you found that you didn’t care about your night out of dancing anymore.

Sending the change in your demeanor, and knowing that look on your face, he leaned in close and murmured, “Wanna get out of here?” Peter’s tone was low, rumbling against your ear and sending a chill down your spine. He placed a light, playful kiss on the tip of your nose while he was so close to you.

“Yes,” you breathed, knowing exactly what he meant and wanting that exact same thing.

This time, it was Peter who slid his hand in yours and led you away. You followed willingly and eagerly as you couldn’t help but giggle. No one had ever made you feel the way Peter did, and finding him was the best thing that ever happened to you. 

And Peter felt the exact same way about you.

The cool air made you dizzy for a moment as the door to the outside opened. You let out a sigh as you adjusted to the feeling of the New York night air on your skin, and it became a welcome relief from the heat inside.

“You alright?” Peter asked.

“Great,” you answered, “Let’s go home.”

Peter smiled as he led you away from the club and into the busy night streets. New York truly never slept, and even late into the night, it was full of life and hustle and bustle. It was just as crowded outside as it was inside as you and Peter made your way down the long streets of the city. You felt safe, though, with your hand firmly in Peter’s.

But, you didn’t make it far before a group of men sneered at you as you passed by them. You felt their pointed gazes before Peter noticed them and you shuffled yourself closer to him. As the two of you walked by, they blew kisses at you and yelled obscene nicknames.

“Hey baby!” one of them shouted, “Why don’t you drop that little shrimpy boy and I’ll show you what a real man can do?”

The other man laughed as they all started to follow close behind.

Peter frowned as he pulled you in closer, tightening his grip on you, “I’ve got you,” he whispered to you, “Come on,” he turned down another street, hoping to lose the men in the crowd and avoid the situation escalating.

You let out a whine as you put your trust in him. Easily, you figured out that Peter wanted to use the crowd as a cover, but you stayed glued to his side still. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw that the men weren’t deterred and still tailed close behind you.

“Peter…”

“I know, I…”

He was cut off when a drunk couple bumped into the two of you, knocking you out of Peter’s grasp. You yelped as you found yourself separated from him, and over the noise of the crowd, you heard him call out your name. 

“Peter!” you shouted back, trying to find him.

It was no use, though, and before you could blink, you found yourself alone. Not completely alone, though, as the group of men somehow found you after you got pushed away. “Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you turned and ran in the opposite direction. You could find Peter later, right now your first priority was losing these guys.

You made turn after turn trying to shake them, but it was no use. No matter where you went, the men were close behind, and they were catching up to you. And they continued to taunt you while they did so.

“Come on, sweet girl,” one leered, “We won’t hurt you.”

“Too badly,” another cackled darkly.

“Just give us a chance, pretty girl,” another pleaded in an insincere voice.

You whimpered as you tried to look for Peter in the crowd again, but to no avail, “Peter…” you hissed, “Dammit.” Lost in your panic, you didn’t notice that you turned into a dead end alley until you were face to face with a brick wall. “Shit,” your hands trembled as you turned around and saw that the men followed you, trapping you in the alley.

“It’s ok sweetheart,” one of them said in a voice that sent a chill down your spine, “We’ll take good care of you.”

Looking down at the ground, you saw a loose brick that fell out of the wall. You picked it up and threw it in the men’s direction, “Stay back!” you warned as the men easily ducked out of the way of the flying brick.

The men just laughed as they reached out for you. Having no other options, you closed your eyes and held your breath, anticipating the feeling of their rough hands on your body. But, it never came.

A twip from above whirled through the air, and the ball of webbing hit the hand of the man closest to you. He was knocked back, and his hand was pinned to the wall, stuck with the webbing.

“Didn’t anyone teach you boys that when a woman says “no” that you leave her alone?” a voice rang from above.

You opened your eyes and looked up, breathing a huge sigh of relief, “Spiderman!” you exhaled as he flipped down from his perch and stood in front of you, blocking the men.

“Spiderman!?” the other men clamored, “We weren’t doing nothing, we just…”

“It didn’t look like nothing to me,” he replied as he flicked his wrist, sending more webbing to the other men.

They all clamored as they tried to fight back, throwing punches that missed the webslinger over and over again. Spiderman easily avoided their punches and with just a few more flicks of his wrist, was able to catch all of them in his net. The men grunted and cursed as they found themselves stuck to either the wall or the ground, unable to move.

“Damn, you Spiderman!” one cried out.

“Fucking cockblock!” shouted another angrily.

Spiderman ignored them and turned to you, “You alright?” he asked in a softer tone.

“I am now,” you replied breathlessly as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Want a lift out of here?” he asked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

Feeling more at ease, a smile grace your face, “I’d love one.”

“I’m gonna pick you up now,” his voice was soothing to you as he extended his arms out.

You nodded. 

Spiderman stepped forward and wrapped his arm around you, lifting you off the ground with his superhuman strength. He paused and turned to the men who pursued you and said, “This is how you ask a lady out,” he sniped, “You should try asking nicely next time.” he added before he flicked his wrist and launched himself and you up and away.

Normally, you were too scared whenever Peter carried you through the city like this. But, after what almost happened, you were too preoccupied to notice more than the cool air in your face and the tight grip around your body. You buried yourself in the crook of his neck as you tightened your own grip on Peter as he flung you between the tall buildings of New York and towards the tiny apartment you both shared.

In no time, Peter made it to your window, opening it from the outside and setting you down carefully and gently. He hurriedly closed it before turning back around to face you, ripping his mask off in one swift motion as he closed the gap between your bodies.

“Are you ok?” he asked in a panic, “Did they hurt you?” Peter’s hand landed on your shoulders as he looked you over for any cuts or marks as he finally allowed himself to feel scared for you.

“I’m ok, Peter,” you replied back, your own voice sounding distant, “You found me just in time.”

Peter’s eyes locked with your for a moment before he dropped to the ground on his knees before you. He started to sob as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in cose, burying his face in your midsection, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he choked out between cries.

Tears of your own filled your eyes as your heart pounded in your chest. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and leaned over, covering him as you both held each other, “Don’t be sorry, Peter,” you whispered, “You saved me. I know you’ll always save me.”

He couldn’t help but cry harder at your words as he tightened his grip on you, “When we got separated,” he started, pausing to catch his breath, “I was so scared,” Peter confessed, “I was so scared something would happen to you… And I wouldn’t find you in time…”

“Hey,” you wiggled your way down to join him on the floor, “Look at me, Peter,” you cupped his face, and more tears fell down your cheeks as you looked into his red eyes, “You will always save me, Peter Parker. I know you will. I trust you with everything I am.”

Truthfully, you were just as scared as Peter was. The moment you were separated, you lost your security, your safe place. And while you had faith in him- you always did- that fear was still there. But right now, you had to be there for him, since he was already there for you. 

Another tear rolled down Peter’s cheek, and you used your thumb to wipe it away. He whispered your name as he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of your touch under his skin. It was a comfort, and anchor, and Peter knew he had to trust you just as much as you trusted him. He saved you tonight. And he would always save you. That was his promise to you. 

“Peter…” you breathed his name as you closed the gap between your faces, pressing your lips to his.

It felt like an explosion of fireworks between your bodies as you connected as one. Passions quickly arose as Peter clung to you and deepened the kiss, tasting you. You moaned into his mouth as you kissed him back just as passionately and tightened your grip on him.

Heat rose in the room as suddenly you both had one thing on your minds. The need to feel each other, to get tangled together and lost in the other, was overwhelming. With only breaking away for quick moments to undress each other, you and Peter clumsily made your way to the bed, stripping each other and kissing wherever you could reach along the way.

By the time your legs hit the edge of the bed, you and Peter were both bare for each other. He grabbed onto you in an attempt to land you underneath him as he leaned your bodies towards the mattress. But, you surprised him. You grabbed onto his torso and turned your bodies around so that by the time you hit the bed, you straddled overtop of Peter.

“Wow,” he murmured as his eyes trailed across your naked body on top of him. Peter’s hands caressed up and down your sides, feeling every dip and curve of your body, memorizing every inch of you with his hands.

“Wow yourself,” you snickered back as you bit your lip and enjoyed the sight of Peter, your Peter, in between your legs.

Leaning forward, you placed your hands on his pecs, giving them a soft squeeze as you rocked your hips along his. Both of you hissed and mewled as your folds ran along his hardening cock. Jolts of electricity ran up your spine with every movement, and you felt the way his cock twitched in anticipation underneath your hips.

Peter let out a curse as his hands dug into your hips. And he only groaned louder when you lifted yourself up to line up your entrance with his cock. Normally, Peter liked to take his time with you, kissing you all over and worshiping your body before he entered you. But today was different. Today, you were both too needy, too desperate to feel each other that neither of you could wait any longer. 

You let out a gasp as the tip of his length pushed past your first ring of muscle and started to stretch you out. Slowly, you lowered yourself along his length, letting Peter fill you up inch by inch as your hips moved closer to his. Peter’s own groans harmonized with your moans as he felt your warmth engulf him. 

“Fuck…” Peter whispered in awe when your hips met his and he felt your muscles clench around him. He moaned your name as he tightened his grip on your body and fought to keep his eyes open; Peter didn’t want to miss a second of how beautiful you looked.

A loud moan escaped your lips as you rolled your hips forward, feeling Peter’s cock inside you. You squeezed his pecs harder as you started to bounce up and down. Feeling bubbled over as you rode Peter’s cock so that they were almost physically palpable between the two of you.

Moving faster, you heard your skin slap against Peter’s as you felt every inch of him inside you. Heat rose in the room as you both clung to the other. Emotions drove you as your tights screamed at you the longer you lifted and lowered yourself onto him. But, Peter helped you. He used his strength to guide your hips along his cock, along his body. He never lessened his grip on you as he slid his hands to the soft mounds of your ass to help you and feel you more.

Peter lost the battle with his eyes, and they finally closed to allow himself to get lost in you. A louder groan echoed from deep with him as he felt your warmth and your tightness envelope him over and over again. And Peter knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept riding him like this.

In a flash, Peter’s eyes snapped open and he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around you. Before you could register his movements, you suddenly found yourself on your back as Peter flipped your bodies over so that he covered you.

“Peter…”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he grunted as he leaned forward, driving his cock even deeper into you as his forehead touched yours.

All you could do was moan as a shiver ran up your spine. Peter’s cock hit that sweet spot inside you with precision, and you felt like your body was floating as he started drilling into you at a fast and desperate pace. “Fuck!” you cried out as your body began to tremble.

Peter snaked his hand up the sheet and took yours as he continued to rock into you over and over again. You took his hand, holding it tightly as you felt his breath against the skin on your face. Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks from the overwhelming emotions, and you could feel ones from Peter as well.

Peter groaned your name over and over again with every thrust of his hips as he held your hand as tightly as he possibly could.

“Peter… I’m gonna cum…” you gasped.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he words were strained from how breathless he was, “Cum with me, sweetheart. Let me feel you.”

“Pete!” you cried out as more tears fell down your cheeks as your entire body tingled. As you were about to let out a loud cry with your climax, Peter’s lips suddenly covered yours, muffling your screams.

His own groans and grunts were muffled as well as he felt his own peak hit at the same time as yours. Peter’s eyes shut tightly as he kissed you deeply while he spilled himself into you. He could feel every muscle in your body clench around him as you came hard on his cock, and your moans reverberated within him as he kept his lips on yours.

Peter kept up his pace as long as he could, riding out every ounce of both your climaxes until he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. With one final thrust of his hips, Peter finally broke the kiss as he pulled out of you and collapsed down next to you with a loud huff. You exhaled deeply as you caught your breath, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. Together, the two of you laid sprawled out next to each other on the bed, letting yourself recover from that whirlwind of passions.

Neither of you were sure who moved first, but you both instinctively reached out for each other, wrapping yourself up in a pretzel of limbs as you held each other close. You kissed his skin wherever you could, and Peter did the same to you, peppering feather light kisses on your body. As your heartbeats both came down to normal, a comfort washed over both of you. Feeling each other cose like this, knowing you were both here, made you know that everything was ok. You were ok. He was ok.

“I’m gonna do everything I can to protect you, sweetheart,” Peter broke the silence, “No matter what. Your safety always comes first,” he said as he squeezed you tightly.

“I know you will, Peter,” you whispered back as you kissed his skin, “I trust you. I know I’m safe with you.”

“You always will be,” he sounded more distant, as if sleep started to take him over. 

“I love you, Peter Parker.”

He smiled, “I love you too, sweetheart.” 

You were quiet for a few moments before you grinned against his chest, “Next time we go out dancing, let’s leave the action for the dance floor instead of the streets.”

Peter joined your laughter as he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, “I was thinking the same thing.” 

[reidslovely]

Something about helping frat!blonde! Peter touch up his roots. Like he calls you and reader must think its for hooking up purposes - then he surprises her w “can you. uh..retouchmyrootsplease” and she’s like “??? 🤨wat” and you just go over to his place and spend time with him, washing his hairr, he making eye contact with reader through the mirror, etc. But he’s still stubborn about his feelings so he’s like “this was a one time thing only don’t let it get to ya head”

sorry if this was jumbled I just had this in my head for a while now

Yes this idea is so so so so so cute. I have written something vaguely similar before but I love it so much I don't care to write it again

please reblog or comment in place of liking/hearting this post 🫶🏼

“Pete?” You questioned picking up your phone, your eyes locked on the clock that read 4:00pm. “It’s far too early for a booty call..what’s up pretty?” 

“Ya flatter bashful.” His chesty laugh could be heard on the other end of the phone. It sent your heart doubling in speed, your cheek pressed lovingly into your shoulder. 

“You still with me bashful? I need you to do me a favor.” 

“So this is a hookup call..you only ask me that if-” You're cut off by him rushing out a string of words. None of which you caught. “Pete..baby. I need you to breathe and say that again.” You laughed softly, already gathering your stuff up to head over to the Theta Tau. Regardless if this was a hookup situation or not you were tired of your homework and Peter always seems to take any type of stress away. 

“Can you uh..” There's an awkward cough and sigh. “Retouchmyrootsplease?” 

The questions still came out as one word this time around but at least you actually caught what he was saying. 

“Sure, Pete.” You tried not to laugh. “Do you have what you need or do we need to run by Sally?” 

“No, no I have everything here for you. Thanks for this.”

“Course Pete, anything for you.” You hung up before you could get any type of snarky reply. 

Peter’s blond locks were a new addition about three weeks into your situation ship and you absolutely loved them. They flattered his face, and made his little baby deer eyes even more baby deer like. Which made you want to kiss him even more, and made it hard to say no when he’s asking you for another round. 

“You’re literally the best for this. Just moved up to like number two in my ranking.”

It was a joke, you were easily number one if not the only girl in Peter’s ranking but you have to play along or else you’ll scare him away. 

“Offended, whose number one.”

“May..sorry.” Peter sighs dramatically, leading you up the stairs to his bathroom. Tossing a few nods and hey’s to his brothers walking down the steps. 

“Mhm can’t be mad at that.” 

Peter laughed sitting on the chair he’d tucked away in the bathroom, pulling off his shirt. 

“Awe did you go ahead and set everything up for me?”

“No I was gonna do it myself but that's how we ended up in this scenario in the first place.”

Peter would never admit to it but he had set everything up for you. He’d done it before he even picked up the phone: not that he knew you'd say yes but he could hope. 

“Mhm I see.” You hummed running your fingers through Peter’s hair. He grabbed his phone starting his music, looking at you in the mirror as you started sectioning his hair out. 

Admittedly the whole time he was locked on you. Every move you made he was locked on you, not wanting to miss a moment. His head lolled back as you ran; you painted the bleach on his roots. Earning soft little ‘stops’ and ‘hold your head up’ from you as he relaxed. Your eyes were fixed on his hair making sure you’re applying everything evenly and correctly. Peter held his phone up in the mirror snapping a quick photo of the two of you. The photo falling amongst the others he’s sneakily taken of you or the both of you that you had no clue about. 

“Okay you gotta sit for a while and then I’ll wash it, tone it, all that after.” You said sitting on the toilet lid next to him taking the gloves off, tossing them in the trash can. 

“This is nice.” 

Peter's comment threw you off, you two only really hung out in the context of having sex or it being mutually beneficial for both. You hated to admit you had more moments like this. 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm no pressure, at least not for you. I still gotta make jokes and keep you entertained.” 

“Tragic.” You tsked resting your arm on the sink hand to head as your free hand started a 30 minute timer. 

“Come on, we have enough time to watch some of that Hulu cooking show you like.” Peter stood taking your hand in his walking to his room. You flopped down on Pete’s bed watching him sitting next to you. “Careful you’ll get bleach on your..”

“No no, I'm good sitting up.”

You nodded and laid your head on his lap watching The Bear, Pete’s fingers combing through your hair switching between watching the TV and you. 

Pete’s head was tilted back in the sink, a towel under his neck for comfort. “Stop looking down my shirt, Parker.” 

“I’m not…I’m not.” He lied, turning his eyes up to look at you as you shampooed after toning his hair. “Do I look fabulous?”

“Oh absolutely.” You laughed wrapping his hair up in a towel helping him sit up. Ruffling the towel through his hair you laughed watching it sticking up every which way. You blow dried it for him smiling and singing under your breath as you fixed his hair perfectly. 

“How do you feel Parker?” 

“Amazing..I look great thanks bashful.” He says turning around, capturing your hips in his hands. “Let's get dinner, and then we can come back here.” 

“I hate sex after dinner.” 

“No, no we come back here and finish the show.” 

“Oh I get to come back to the Theta house? And not have sex?” You fake a gasp of shock. 

“I know it’s a rare occurrence. This is a one time thing though, don’t let it get to ya head.” Pete taunts, hand rubbing your side grabbing his wallet off his dresser.

“Oh baby it has.” 

Peter knew and even in his playful disdain and stubborn personality you were slowly craving a spot out in his chest and making a home in it, and at this point he had no say in it.

___________

tags: @helloheyhihowdyheya @sincericida @moonyslove78 @a-lumos-in-the-nox @messymissy @adhdhufflepuff @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @ateliefloresdaprimavera @eevylynn

[inkluvs]

hi so I have no idea if ur still writing and taking requests but if u r could you write a blurb with tasm!peter and reader who has a nightmare? absolutely love ur writing

honey i’m literally so so sorry this has taken so long i lowk fell off the face of the earth but i hope this is what u wanted <3

-

A litter of dark curls were spread on the pillow beside you, his mouth open as he snored gently. Your heart, thumping quickly in your chest just a moment ago, seemed to slow down at the sight of him, his peace seeping into you. You don’t remember what happened in your dream fully, as you often don’t, just that a deep sense of fear poured into your chest as a result of it and it had something to do with Peter.

Your face was sticky. With tears, was what you realized a moment later, the salt water leeching at the moisture in your skin. The itch was something for tomorrow, you decided, sliding back under the covers and into Peter’s arms.

It was sweet though, the way he stirred when he noticed the movement on your side of the bed. His eyes opening and wandering the room before settling on your face.

“Angel girl,” he murmurs, a smile played at the corner of his lips. It was then that he noticed the streaks under your eyes, barely there in the dim light filtering in through the blinds, but there none the less. “You alright?”

You nod, pressing your ear to his chest.

“You were gone,” little bits and pieces came back to you as you whispered. “didn’t know what to do.”

“I’m here,” he frowned, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“I know,” you whispered.

-

[shewroteaworld]

Movie Date Migraine

Premise: On a movie date with Peter Parker, a migraine strikes you down. You don't want Peter to see you like this, but he refuses to let you go home alone.

Reader is female-identifying. Reader has hair long enough to be put in a ponytail.

Word count: aprox. 3,500

tw: descriptions of nausea and vomiting, reference to childhood trauma (unspecified)

(Y/N) knows she should go home. 

But, she can’t. Not until this movie is finished.

Sitting next to Peter Parker in the darkness of the movie theater, with your forearms touching and fingers brushing when you reach for popcorn, is typically an experience that sends heat dancing up your arms and butterflies flitting around your stomach.

Right now, nausea was the only thing pulsing through your stomach. And with the surround sound tightening the band around your forehead and the lights sending sparks across your vision, Peter’s arm touching yours is only adding to the sensory tsunami slamming you. 

You denied it when zigzags cut across your vision when you touched up your lipstick in the elevator. You denied it when Peter’s voice distorted on your walk to the theater. You denied it when a wave of dizziness hit you on your way to the restroom. But now, you couldn’t deny it any longer: a migraine storm was upon you. A rough night awaits, but you’re not ready for Peter to get up close and personal with your migraines yet.

For your entire life, you battled with migraine. In grade school, the pain forced you out of field trips, sports practices, and musical rehearsals and into bed with blackout curtains drawn, a cool cloth laid on your forehead, and a bucket by your bedside. Not a particularly attractive sight for your new(ish) boyfriend to see. 

The aura for this headache was coming on strong. When the actors’ voices began changing intonation like a chameleon changing colors, you knew a harsh spell encroached. You need to make it through this date and get back to your apartment before Peter sees you collapse in a pile of puke and tears. 

And, you have a game plan. Phase 1: Make it through the film without collapsing or puking. Phase 2: When Peter walks you home, hold his arm and lay your head on his shoulder. It’ll masquerade as a cute gesture, when in reality, you’ll be using him as a human cane. Phase 3: Get home, lock the door, and go into Migraine Emergency Mode. 

Slowly but surely, you were revealing your layers to Peter at a safe, comfortable pace. This shitty action movie was not going to get in the way.

An abrupt on-screen crash shocks you out of your scheming. The main characters sent their car careening into a ditch. Just as the jackhammering in your head began to die down, the car burst into flames.

You throw a hand over your eyes. A gurgle of nausea twists in your gut.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” Peter whispers in your ear. 

You snap your eyes open. So much for appearing nonchalant. You take your hand from your face. Red hot pain radiates down your body, but you clamp your lips into a neutral expression. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

“Do you need some air?”

On one hand, you could surrender. You could let Peter walk you into the foyer and buy you an icy drink to hold to your eye. Maybe you could even let Peter take you home and cuddle you through the pain. You know Peter wants to be there for you. 

You shove those fantasies from your mind.

“No.” You whisper at a volume only Spider-Man could hear. 

Suddenly, a yelling match breaks out on screen. You close your eyes shut. You can’t hold back a whimper.

Peter wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Honey, you don’t seem alright. We can leave.”

Your resolve crumples. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry” barely passes your lips before Peter’s slung both your jackets over his arm and looped the strap of your cross body bag around his fingers. “Please, don’t be sorry.” Peter stands in front of you, but you stare at your lap. Peter’s fingers intertwine with hers. “I’m sure this blockbuster will be here all summer.” He jokes, and in your mind’s eye you can see his smirk. You don’t have the energy to crack a smile.

“C’mon, sweetie.” Gently, Peter grabs your limp wrist. 

You focus all the energy in your body to propel you out of the chair. You stumble into Peter’s chest. 

He stabilizes you. “Okay, baby, okay.” He soothes.

“I’m sorry.” You say. 

“Sweetheart, you’re fine.” He’s bending down to meet your eyes, but you refuse to look at his face. “Lean on me. Let’s get you out of here.”

With Peter’s arm wrapped around your waist and your head resting on his chest, you descend the cinema stairs and make your way out of the theater.

***

Getting down the stairs wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be. Typically, during a migraine, stairs are your personal hell.

But, with Spider-Man supporting most of your bodyweight, the physical exertion lessens significantly. 

Plus, it’s not just the safety of Spider-Man that’s helping. It’s Peter Parker’s safe hands holding you close. It’s Peter Parker's frame shielding you from gruff moviegoers working their way around you down the mall steps. It’s Peter Parker keeping you upright, and that’s enough to keep your brain generating numbing happy chemicals even in the worst of times.

Peter guides you to a bench next to the atrium. You lay your head on his shoulder, but abruptly sit up. 

This nightmare gets worse from here. You have to go home by yourself. You’re not ready for this. You’re not–

“(Y/N), honey? Are you with me?” Peter’s tenderly cradling your face. “You’re starting to scare me.”

You blink. “I’m here, I’m here.” You take a deep breath to ground yourself from the swirling dizziness. You force a weak smile. “Just a little headache.”

Peter cocks an eyebrow. “A little headache?” He cradles your chin. “You look like you’ve been concussed, babe.” Softer, he asks, “Do you get migraines?”

Your chest falls. The jig is up. “Yeah, I’m having a migraine.”

“Okay.” His tone is soft, but there’s a hardness in his eyes and a pinch between his brows and you know it’s not from worry. He’s annoyed you didn’t tell him. If there’s one thing that puts a rift between you and Peter, it’s that you won’t let him help you. You didn’t tell him when you forgot your lunch the day you had a big presentation. You didn’t tell him when your insomnia came back. You didn’t tell him when you caught the 24-hour bug 2 months ago. And now he knows you’ve been hiding this. 

“I’m sorry.” You squeak.

“Oh, honey, no.” Peter whispers. “Let’s just focus on getting you out of here and in bed. Don’t even think. I’ll get you back to my apartment.” 

“No,” you shake your head but stop when nausea slithers up your throat. You swallow hard. “No, I need to go home.”

“Sweetheart, your apartment’s across town, and I don’t think you can walk or swing right now.”

The damp wool of your sweater constricts your sweaty skin. “I have all my medication and things in my apartment.” You argue, but the fight in your voice is weak.

“I have lots of meds and supplies stocked because of…you know. I think I’ve got everything you need, and I can always swing over to your apartment to grab something.”

Suddenly, a crowd of moviegoers comes stomping towards the foyer, ushering in a cacophony of laughter and voices. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, and Peter drags your face into his shoulder. You fist his sweatshirt and squeeze until your fingers hurt. 

“Let’s get you home, my love.” He whispers.

You know by home he doesn’t mean your apartment. You know he means his place, where you spend half of your time and have your personal belongings threaded through his. 

Maybe it’s the crippling exhaustion. Maybe it’s the fact that every step sends pain shooting through your skull. Regardless, you surprise yourself with your answer. 

“Okay.”

***

“I know, I’m sorry, honey.” Peter whispers into your hair. He presses your body against his side as he leads you to the second set of elevators in the foyer. 

Dating a chemical engineer has its perks; Peter could afford a nice apartment. However, the first set of elevators broke an hour after you left for your date. More steps for you.

Even with Peter nearly carrying you, the final stretch to the elevator feels like a mile. The wait for the elevator to arrive worsens when a twist of nausea wracks your stomach. But soon, the elevator doors ding open.  

As soon as the doors shut behind you, you push against Peter’s hold.

“Babe?” He asks. He lets you go free.

You sink to the floor and unbutton your jacket. You take a deep breath, reveling in the coolness of the air conditioning and freedom from residual body heat. 

“I feel nauseous.” You groan.

He kneels next to you. “Do you need to throw up?” There was something about his hand on your shoulder, his tone, and his stern yet compassionate expression that reminded you of Spider-Man. He’d likely posed that same question on the beat to trauma victims. The guilt bubbling in your stomach amps up the queasiness. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath. 

“No.” You say. Peter cocks his brow again. Despite yourself, you shrink. “Maybe later. Not at this moment.” 

“Okay, darling. Would you let me carry you in?”

You swallow your shame. “Yes,” you say. 

Peters picks you up as if you weigh a feather. You wrap your arms around his neck as the elevator opens to his floor. 

***

You’re laying in Peter’s bed with his sheets wrapped around your face. Even with the blinds drawn, the New York City lights burn your sensitive eyes. 

Despite your prior objections, you can’t deny the comfort of laying in Peter’s soft duvet with the spicy scent of his cologne filling your nose. 

You hear the creak of the door as Peter steps into the room.

“Baby?” He whispers. “I brought you some stuff.”

Peter’s gait is slow and light, as if he’s trying not to creak the floorboards. Something taps the bedside table next to you.

“Can I see your head, baby? I know it’s bright outside, but I have this wrap around ice pack I think will really help.”

With a groan, you pull the blankets below your chin. You crack open your eyes, and to your surprise, Peter is holding a black version of your favorite migraine ice pack. It’s like a thick bandage that wraps around your eyes and forehead and velcros closed in the back. It’s cold, pitch black heaven.

You smile weakly. “Thanks, Peter.” You mumble. Dating someone with super hearing is a huge perk when you’re a migraineur. 

“Of course.” He whispers. 

Peter lays the ice pack on your forehead, and your body relaxes. The pain still pulses like a bass drum beat in a metal song, but at least there’s something combating it. 

“Can I help you sit up, sweetie? I want to tie this behind your head.” 

You hum your approval. 

Gently, Peter raises your limp body and velcros the ends of the ice pack behind your head, creating 360 degree relief. 

You moan in relief. “Thank you, Peter.” 

“Oh course, sweetheart. There's a glass of water on the bedside table for you. Would you like some Pepto-Bismol?”

You hold back a gag. “No.” You croak. “But thanks.”

“After I change, can I get into bed next to you?”

You can’t help but smile. He’s so conscientious. Too conscientious. “Of course, Peter.” 

A few minutes later, the bed slowly sinks as Peter gingerly adds his weight.

“Can I speak, darling?” He asks.

“Mm-hmm.” You hum.

“I’ve never been with you during a migraine before. I want to know how to take care of you. Could you answer some yes or no questions for me?” He whispers. “You don’t need to speak. Maybe one finger for yes and two for no.” 

You point your index finger.

“Excellent.” Peter says. “Are you sensitive to light?”

You hold up one finger. 

“Are you sensitive to sound?”

Once again, one finger.

“Are you sensitive to touch?”

You hold up two fingers. There’s some nuance to that, but there was only so much you could communicate. You really needed some sleep.

“Okay. Can I hold you?”

Warmth fills your ribcage. “I can’t lay on my side, but could you hold my hand?” Heat burns your cheeks. “And maybe lay against me?”

“Of course.” Peter whispers, a smile in his voice. 

He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder. “Goodnight, my love. Feel better.”

***

You wake to a knot in your stomach. You twist onto your side which only tightens the cramp. 

You moan. Your eyes crack open only to be weighed down by the ice pack from last night. 

Last night. Peter was a saint. You were an embarrassment. A well-loved and well-cared for embarrassment, but falling over yourself all the same. 

Your shame spiral stops as soon as it begins when a bubble of queasiness turns you rigid. 

Shit. 

Not here. 

Not now. 

You take a deep breath. Peter is slumped against your back, and thanks to his spidey senses, an infinitesimal movement could wake him up. To make matter worse, when it came to you, Peter was always extra jumpy. It was a miracle he hadn’t woken already. 

You take another deep breath. Maybe if you lay as still as a statue, the nausea will go away and you’ll drift off to sleep. 

A second later, like a wave careening to shore, nausea swells in your chest and up your throat. You sprint from the bed, shoving the sheets onto Peter who instantly jumps awake. 

You dash into the bathroom, nearly tripping over your own feet when the carpet transitions to ice cold tile. 

You collapse and promptly stick your head into Peter’s toilet bowl. Your face burns with embarrassment, and the humiliation has not reached its peak. 

You dry heave three times. Of course, when you start throwing up, you feel your hair being lifted from your shoulders.

“I’m so sorry.” Peter whispers. He must have grabbed a scrunchie from your purse, because your hair stays off your face and neck while Peter’s hands rub your back and hold your hand gripping the toilet tank cover. 

You can’t get out the words “get out!” to Peter with all the retching in the way. 

“It’s alright. You’re alright. Breathe, baby.” Peter whispers. He draws wide circles on your upper back, and your shoulders betray you by relaxing into his palm.

You didn’t think your stomach could hold so much. You continue to gag, making a mess of Peter’s bathroom, but Peter never flinches. He continues whispering sweet nothings to you until you finish expelling all of last night’s dinner and popcorn. 

Stomach aching, you collapse against Peter’s chest. 

“You okay?” Peter asks. 

“Yeah.” You pant. 

“Take some deep breaths.” He whispers. “Would you like some water?”

“Could you make me ginger tea?” You ask. Guilt tightens your throat. You were already puking in his bathroom– you could’ve settled for plain water. 

But that’s exactly what Peter has been insisting you work on– being honest about asking for what you need.

He kisses your temple. “Of course.” He says, a smile in his voice. 

Two minutes later, Peter returns to the bathroom, a steaming mug in his hand. 

He places your tea on the edge of the marble counter. “It’s still brewing.” He whispers. 

“You can speak at a normal volume now.” You croak. You were laying on the floor, arms and legs limp yet heavy as lead. 

“Is your headache better?” He asks. 

“Marginally,” You say. “If I throw up, it’s usually better after.” Like the climax of a movie, once you puke during a migraine attack, it’s usually coming to its resolution.

“Okay.” Peter said, returning to his normal volume. He sits next to you. “Do you want to brush your teeth and go back to sleep?”

“Yes, please.”

Five minutes later, you’re curled under the covers, half a mug of ginger tea sitting on Peter’s bedside table. 

You’re about to slip into slumber when Peter asks you a question.

“Can I text your boss that you’re not coming in tomorrow?”

Your breath hitches. Your instincts scream “No!” You have to go to work. 

You take what feels like your millionth deep breath in the past 24 hours. But going to work wouldn't be good for your body. You already tried to sit through an action film with a migraine which resulted in you hurling at 3 am. It was time to take Peter’s advice and give your body a break. 

“Yes.” You say, relief and guilt washing over you simultaneously. 

“Okay.” Peter says, satisfaction in his voice. “Sleep tight, my love. Rest up.” 

Peter presses a soft kiss against your hairline as you fall back to sleep.

***

“We need to talk.” 

“I know,” you say. You knew this was coming. As soon as you walked into the kitchen this morning, you could tell Peter was holding something in from the hitch in his jaw. Being the gentleman he is, he gave you the grace of waking up a bit more and making sure your migraine was gone before starting any serious conversation. You watch the brown sugar dissolve into your peppermint tea as you trace the spoon around the circumference of the mug.

“Can we sit?” He asks.

You stop stirring. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You keep your back turned to him. Guilty tears fill your eyes.

“(Y/N), look at me. I’m not mad, I’m just….frustrated? I’m at a loss.” He amends. 

Blinking wasn’t helping. You twist your face further away from Peter,  determined not to let him catch a glimpse of your melodrama from the kitchen table. “It’s okay if you're angry with me. We already talked about this. And I ruined your night.”

“But that’s the problem.” Peter says. “You didn’t ruin anything. The reason I’m annoyed is because you think any little inconvenience like you being sick or unhappy is an annoyance when it’s really not. You’re my girlfriend, and I want to help. I want to figure out how to help you.” He sighs. “And before I can do that, I want to figure out what I can do better to build that trust between us."

You face Peter. “Peter, there’s nothing more you can do. You’ve been perfect.” Peter Parker is more of a perfect boyfriend than you could’ve imagined. He’s a human– he’s flawed— but he has one of the most beautiful souls you’ve ever come across. “It’s just me, I’m just…scared.” You admit. You turn your gaze to the kitchen island.

“What can I do to help you feel safer?”

And there was the crux of the issue: Peter has done everything to make you feel safe. But the wall between you and Peter has nothing to do with Peter.

“It’s hard for me to feel vulnerable with people because of…you know.”

Peter nods. He knew most of the unsavory details of your bittersweet childhood. “I know. Did I do something that triggered memories?” Peter asks, anxiety creeping into his voice. 

“Peter.” You meet his eyes for the second time. “Absolutely not. You’re so good to me.” A tear drips down your cheek. “I want to tell you. About everything. I want to call you when I’m sick and tell you when I’m hurting.” You blink up at the ceiling. “It’s just so hard to break through that wall. To feel safe feeling vulnerable again. And I’ve talked about it with my therapist, I’ve been trying it’s just…such a big step.”

“Would it help if we discuss it together? All three of us?” Peter asks. The confusion must have shown on your face. “Maybe we could have a session together so we could work through this.”

“Really?” You ask, voice cracking. 

“Of course, really.” Peter says, half-smiling. 

“You’re not breaking up with me?” The question slips from your lips before you can hold your tongue. 

Peter looks like he’s been slapped. “Over a migraine?”

“Over not being vulnerable enough. Not giving you enough.” The words leave a bad taste in your mouth. You weren’t able to give Peter what he needed. Your caged heart won’t open.

Peter stands. “(Y/N), you’ve given me more than enough. Who’s there to stitch me after patrol? Who’s on the phone with me at 3 o’clock in the morning when I have night terrors? Who has all of my grounding strategies memorized because I have panic attacks?”

A small smile slips onto your face. “Me.” 

“(Y/N),” Peter smiles. “You’re the most amazing girlfriend I could ask for.”

You open your arms, and Peter wraps you in the warmest hug. 

Even with someone as safe and loving as Peter, being vulnerable was going to be hard. But if there’s someone you want to go on this trek with, it was Peter Parker. 

“I wouldn't want to go on this journey with anyone but you.”

Peter squeezes you tighter. “We’ll get through this together.”

---

Author's Note: Hello! This is my first fic I've ever finished, and I'm super excited to post this! I'm new to having a writing blog, but would love to start chatting!

xoxo, shewroteaworld

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

feeling like shit rn, can you please write pete teasing his drunk baby and cleaning her up, holding her hair back when she pukes, she's like "i'm a mess, how can you love me" and he's kissing her face, that kind of fluffy shit <3

this is so stinkin cute

YOUR GIRL- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Boyfriend! Peter x Girlfriend! Reader

Word Count: 843

Warnings: some swearing, and vomiting ofc. but petnames and lots of fluff:))

"carry me to my bed, lay me in a pillow town kiss me on my head and remind me of the way we will not know

i wish i was your girl..."- your girl, lana del rey (unreleased)

“M’Peter I’m done. No more.” you moaned, your body feeling weak and achey as you leaned against your forehead against the toilet seat.

You felt like you were being punched in the gut, pins and needles pricking your clammy skin as the world began to spin again. The booze was rushing to your head, and you started to regret drinking so much.

Actually, you started regretting it nearly half an hour ago, the cool bathroom tile becoming an secret oasis for you as you heaved up sweet coolers and warm shots of fireball.

“No, no baby you gotta get it all out. You’ll feel so much better.” he cooed from above you, hand holding your hair back, the other stroking your back in small, soothing circles.

You were jealous of how much better he could handle his alcohol. You were jealous of the fact he didn't have the taste of sickly sweet six percent on his teeth, mixed with the taste of faint vomit.

“I’m not feeling better. M’feeling worse. You’re lying.” you stated, groaning as you felt the contents in your stomach roll over like a tidal wave.

“I never lie sweetheart, you know this. Stop being mean.” he laughed, watching as you weakly attempted to reach behind yourself to swat at him. Before you could make another sly comment back, it was too late.

“Oh g-god-” you hiccuped, leaning further towards the toilet bowl as you felt the room start to spin.

“Oh, there she goes. Atta girl, let it all out.” he winced, patting your back as you heaved everything up, feeling as if you'd choke.

“Good girl. See? It’s better.” he said, reaching over to grab the damp cloth he had been using to help clean you up, so you’d stop (attempting) to use the back of your hand as a means of getting the puke off your lips.

“No not better. You’re better.” you moaned, not relaxing your words had made no sense.

“I am better. Now look up for me, good girl.” he smiled as you obeyed, makeup slightly smudged as he wiped the warm facecloth across the lower half of your face. Leaning down, he scattered kisses across your face, leaving you giggly as his lips brushed every inch of skin, tickling your eyelashes.

“I’m a mess, how can you l-love me?” you slurred, hearing the toilet flush before he helped you stumble upwards to stand.

“You’re not a mess. You’re beautiful.” he shoke his head, and you reached for the edge of the counter to help steady yourself.

You felt awful. You knew tomorrow morning would be hell on earth, and you already could predict the amount of tylenol and gravol you’d have to down with lots, and lots of water. It seemed like a chore, so out of reach as you felt yourself being guided towards the bed.

You couldn't even remember whose bed it was. It certainly wasn't yours.

“Do you wanna try and get out of these clothes?” Peter asked, to which you could only nod. Exhaustion washed over your bones, and you felt weak and nimble as thread as you swayed in place.

“I need them off. They’re sticking to me.” you complained, feeling like a rag doll as he moved your limbs to better suit his needs, lifting your arms up to slide your shirt off.

“I wish I was your girl. I wanna be your girlfrienddd.” you blurted out, slouching back on the bed, head pressed against the crisp sheets and you breathed them in. They were coated in the smell of Peter, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you realized you were safe in the comfort of his bed.

You could hear his laughter, though it sounded slightly muffled and distant as he unbuttoned your jeans, sliding the deminum down your legs and letting them plop onto the floor with the rest of your garments.

“You are my girlfriend silly. And I wouldn't have it any other way.” he hummed, shuffling you around so you were vertical, head collapsing on the pillow.

“Really? That's so sweet.” you smiled, content with the idea that the two of you were together (despite being a couple for over a year), as you always wanted.

“Lets just stay here. We can stay here all night.”

“We are staying here all night. And all day, most likely. You’re not moving in this condition.”

You smiled. “That means more time to cuddle.” you giggled, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead before turning away.

“W-where are you going? I thought we were going to cuddle, cause you’re my boyfriend and that's what they do!” you pouted, reaching aimsley for his hand in an attempt to keep him from leaving you.

“We will cuddle baby I promise. I’m gonna get some stuff like meds and a bucket okay? I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, letting your hand fall limp against the sheets. Before you could stop them, your eyelid started to droop, the world turning dark as you dozed off into dreamland.

[underoospeterparker]

🪸 CORALS - send me a character + an au (rockstar!sirius, bodyguard!james, etc) and i'll write a blurb!

now i would love to see your take on bodyguard!tasm peter 🤭

i got ur back!! (in this fic, their relationship isn't really specified but you can assume that they're dating but no one knows hehehe)

bodyguard!peter parker x fem!reader - mcu!peter / tasm!peter, unspecified

At a ball, everyone dressed up. No matter whether they were counts or dukes, princes or heirs, they were either in dresses or suits, and there was absolutely no exception.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hair down with a hand as you realised just how different you were from two months ago, and you weren't just talking about your appearance.

Your entire life had been flipped over the moment your landline had rang in your service apartment at three in the morning. You'd reluctantly crawled out of bed, an annoyed frown on your face. It disappeared immediately when you received the news that your father, who you'd never met, had been assassinated, and that you needed to return back to his kingdom, which you'd never even known existed, to become a princess.

Now, everything was surreal. Completely unreal. The crown may have looked glamorous from the outside, but it sure wasn't the same on the inside. Apart from a few exceptions, of course. Peter, for one, Beatrice, your father's old maid, and Queen Cordelia, your grandmother.

When you stared at yourself a second too long, Peter spoke up. "Are you okay?" His voice was soft, gentle, as it had always been when he spoke to you. He knew exactly what you'd been through, and you him, even though he wasn't supposed to have told you anything about his own life. You'd promised him you'd keep his story a secret: not that he had ever doubted you, anyway.

You nodded, giving him a bright smile as you turned around. He offered you his arm, which you gladly took, learning into him. "I'm okay," you whispered, more of a reassurance to yourself than to him.

When Peter was sure no one was looking, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "You're okay," he repeated.

As soon as you entered the ballroom, you were subject to bright lights, tall glasses of champagne, and maddening people you were forced to talk to and form relationships with under the instruction of your grandmother. You made your rounds cautiously, a welcoming smile on your face. It was completely false, though, which Peter knew, because he knew your expressions far too well. He knew you far too well.

You curiously watched as a man in all black and a hood covering his head entered the room. He was dressed unlike anyone else there; informal, casual. Peter mirrored your expression. The man eyed the room until he saw you, and he paused, frowning. He moved to pull something out of his pocket, and you stilled when you realised it was a gun that he was holding.

The guards surrounded him, holding him down, but he was quick to fight, and he pointed the weapon straight at you.

Two shots fired. That was all it looked for Peter to throw himself over you, shielding your body with his own. You clamped your hands over your ears, heart thumping, whole body shaking under his.

"I need backup immediately," he murmured into his hand, eyes scanning the crowd for the perpetrator. "Phoenix is under attack. The threat needs to be neutralised. I repeat, the threat needs to be neutralised." Upon a word of agreement from whoever was on the other side of the line, Peter's attention turned swiftly to you. He surveyed your surroundings carefully, and when he believed it was safe, he held out a hand to pull you up away from the crowd, all shaking in their crouched positions.

Peter held out a hand for you to hold as he pulled you up and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, hurrying you away from the eyes of the crowd and into a small closet.

Peter sat you down on the floor, then turned to lock the door. He returned to you, his lips turning downward when he noticed your teary eyes. He crouched down in front of you, his expression soft.

When you let out a half-suppressed sob, he cooed at you gently, as if you were a wounded animal. "Oh, honey," he murmured, pulling you into his chest. "It's okay now, you're safe," Peter whispered, his large, warm hand cradling your head. You trembled under him, tears spilling from your eyes. "You know I've always got you, okay? No matter what."

"'t was so loud," you cried, the explanation lost in your throat, "and I was so scared." He frowned at you sympathetically, then pressed a kiss to your forehead. You paused, knowing he'd interpreted what you said wrong. "Not for me, though," you added.

He sighed, a pleasant sound that warmed your scratchy throat. "The Queen has her own men," he reassured you, "and Beatrice isn't even in the Palace today, sweetheart. They're okay."

"I wasn't only scared for them, Pete," you whispered, turning your attention towards him. "I was scared for you."

Your bodyguard looked completely shocked. You giggled wetly at his expression, then rushed to justify yourself. "Peter, you put yourself on the front line every single day," you whispered, your smile vanishing, "and I can't help but wonder if one day, you're not gonna come back to me."

Peter face fell. He tugged you closer to him, wanting to bury himself in your scent. "I'll always come back to you," he murmured. "No matter what."

You gave him a soft smile, curling yourself into his hold. Slowly, your eyes drifted shut, clearly exhausted. Peter allowed himself a moment to just stare at you, mesmerised. When your breathing evened out, he whispered, "How did I ever deserve a girl like you?"

[reysdriver]

WE NEED MORE BLACK CAT READER AND TASM PETER THE TENSIONNNNN

you try to take off Spider-Man's mask on a rooftop at night — tasm!peter parker x blackcat!reader

warnings: none :)

words: 0.4k

a/n: okok im finally writing from my requests and I love that I'm getting back into writing Peter Parker oneshots again! Thanks so much to the anon who sent this in and gave me the idea!

“Oh, come on, Bug Boy.” You whined teasingly. “I just want to try it on. And I’ll give you mine in exchange.”

“Can’t do that, Kitty Cat.” He used the nickname he knows you hate. It’s fine when you do it and call him Bug Boy or Web-Head, but Kitty Cat is just stupid. 

Teasing Spider-Man is probably your favourite thing to do on a boring night, and tonight was no exception. You’ve been trying to get him to take off his mask all night, with no luck yet. 

“I also wanna see you. Come on, why not at least part of your face? It’s not fair that you basically get to see my whole face and you’re just a spandex silhouette to me.” 

He let out a small laugh. “Well, maybe that just means you should get a new mask.”

“Maybe you should get a new mask.” Yikes. That wasn’t your best, and he knew it too. 

“Oh, you’re losing it now, aren’t you?” 

You huffed and turned around so he couldn’t see your pout. One foot straight in front of the other, you walked carefully on top of the roof’s bannister while you thought of more ways to tease him.

“How about you close your eyes and I try to sneak up and take it off of you?” You proposed, your arm mimicking a predator snatching its prey. 

Spider-Man shook his head at your idea. “Even with my eyes closed, you couldn’t do it. Spidey senses have me one step ahead of you at all times.”

You scoffed. For him to think he was so much better than you? Rude. He was probably right, but you were still going to dramatise your offence. With a hand on your heart, you gasped exaggeratedly. “Excuse you, Web-Head, I’ve been practising. Just let me try. I bet I could get your mask off on the first try.”

He shot one of his webs against the wall, making a stringy blob against the brick. “You’re persistent, you know?” 

“I’m curious, and you love it.” 

“And what makes you so sure about that?” 

“Because you’re still here.” You stated confidently. “Out of all the rooftops in the city, you’re choosing to stay here with me.”

There was a pause, and you wondered if maybe you were wrong. Maybe you had been cocky and totally out of left field. Your worry was only relieved when he looked back at you and spoke up. 

“Seems like you’re onto me, Kitty Cat.”

[sincericida]

hii hey !! i hope you’re having a good night :)) i love your blog and all the stuff you post, you also seem so lovely in general :)

sorry to bother you just i saw this ask about angsty fic recs you replied to and i was wondering since life isn’t going good atm and today suck if you had like any adoring tasm!peter fic recs? like him just being the crazy in love doting worshiping boyfriend we all love ? not like comfort fic, just him being needy and touchy and or like protective and a tiny bit possessive

okay that last part got outta hand a little sorry i just really want to smile today :C

Awwwww thank you, and good that you like my little corner! 🥰

Well, about the fluffy fics, I’ll leave here some of my favorite fluffy & smut & swag fanfics. Maybe you know some of them (if not all), but still, have fun!

"Secret Ingredient", "Lightning Bugs" "Blackout", "Thick and Thin" by @ficthots

"Happiness: and Other Frightening Concepts" by @rancidpancakebatter

"Glad You’re Home", "Field Trips-Not Just Educational", "Can I borrow your height?", "An Intruder (of sorts)" by @withahappyrefrain

"Peter to ice skating", "Peter Parker confesses his love" by @forever-rogue

"YOUR BIGGEST FAN" by @starpdfs

"Baby, don’t make me spell it out for you" by @p3mybeloved

"Wonderfully Bizarre (Mob! Peter Parker)" by @reidslovely

"YOUR GIRL- P.B PARKER", "STUDY BUDDY" by @lanadelreyscokewhor3

The "Symbiote: Mini Series" by @mrshipsmcgee

"Prototype" by @warrenwrites

"Daylight" by @webslingingslasher

"MOON RIVER" by @scorpiomother

"August slipped away" by @peterthepark

"Horror Night" by @forest-fics

"The Tour" by @literaila

"Four drinks I'm wasted" by @mortwig

"Claiming what is mine again" by @frost-queen

"'Til Kingdom Come" by @pedrito-friskito

"Warm Shower and Soft Kisses" by @bitchyycapricorn

"Committed to the Cause" by @ofbluesandyellows

The "Florence" Masterlist by @periprose

If you know of other fics of the genre, repose and value the writers of Tumblr. ❤️

[madwcman]

hi! Can I request tasm! Peter w a f!short! reader who is always climbing on counters to reach stuff when he is not home? Him worrying about the bruises on her knees and catching her on the act

thank u in advance!

a/n: thank you for requesting!! ♡

pairing: tasm! peter x short! reader

“sweetheart, what are you doing?” you turn to your unimpressed boyfriend. his arms are folded over his chest and he has his eyebrows raised at you in question. you’ve been caught.

you were currently on your kitchen counter trying to grab a glass.

“nothing!” you quickly climb down from your kitchen counter, with a nervous smile. “we’ve talked about this,” he states firmly. and he’s right you and peter have had plenty of talks about you climbing on the counters. but it’s not your fault! you can’t reach things in your home, you usually ask peter to get things for you but when he leaves you resort to climbing.

“i know- but it’s not my fault!” you defend yourself, you walk over to peter and wrap your arms around him. “i know it’s not, but you need to be careful, i don’t want you hurting yourself.” he melts into your hug and kisses your head. “well what do you suggest i do?” you look up to your boyfriend for answers. “grow taller.”

[spiderfunkz]

✦ A VELVET NIGHT.

— summary : she might want a kiss, before the end of the song!

— word count : 0,5k

— warnings : tooth-rotting fluff, fem!reader, established relationship, pet names, teasing, peter & r share an apartment together.

a/n : so basically peter takes reader to a concert but in a classic spiderman style. also god knows how many times i've used that summary😛😛

peter got used to the loudness of new york nights, during swings and late night patrols, the noise felt like a rhythm almost. a sort-of familiar melody in his ears.

yes, the constant traffic noise and honking can be annoying at times, but it's nice knowing you're not really alone during the sleepless patrols.

peter recognizes most of the noises. the tune coming from a jazz bar somewhere, the sounds of endless honking from tired workers & the occasional yelling from apartments. but this night, there was music and lights peter had never heard or seen yet.

it was coming from a hidden place, not visible unless you really, really try. it was nicely tucked between a few tall buildings and an old fancy restaurant.

peter peaked from a rooftop, observing the area. the lights and music were coming from a concert down below. a band seemed to be performing as a decent crowd dance and sing all together.

shit, was this the concert you've been talking about for the past weeks? the concert peter wanted to take you, but couldn't find tickets for?

i think it just started, peter whispers.

he spots a couple, resembling you and peter, they seemed so happy, swaying around to the song as they smile so brightly at each other.

peter sighs, swinging away, knowing he should've tried harder to get the tickets even though you've already repeated a million times that it's okay and it's not that big of a deal.

he lands at the shared apartment, specifically by your fire escape. before knocking, he pauses for a moment, observing you all huddled up in bed, reading. then he spots a dress you just got back from the laundry.

peter gets an idea.

knocking on your window, quite aggressively— "y/n! open the window!" he muffles. his spider-man mask in his mouth.

you groan, putting your book down.

"do you not know we have a front door, peter? or do you just prefer looking like a stalker every night knocking on my window?" you unlock.

"yes and yes." he nods, "also, get dressed. quick."

"for what?" you raise your brow.

"just get dressed."

"this sounds like a kidnapping."

peter scoffs, "i can guarantee you i'm not, just- do you remember that concert you've been talking about?"

you nod.

"just get dressed, bub." he repeats.

you look at him, confused and excited. you quickly get dressed, grabbing the leather jacket peter gifted you, "i'm all dressed." you smile.

"perfect, now how would you like to go for a swing again?" he gestures.

landing on the rooftop, peter carefully lets go of your waist as you gain balance. "careful. okay, follow me." he holds your hand, guiding you near the edge of the rooftop.

"there." peter points at the concert, you could hear the music even if it's a bit muffled. the view was wonderful too, it's a bit far, but not too far.

"i'm sorry i couldn't get you a ticket." peter pouts, his spider-man mask nowhere to be seen. "it's okay, peter. this is perfect." you smile, sitting near the edge, admiring the band that's playing.

peter sits beside you, "yeah, but we could've been down there, with the lights and festival stuff."

"so? i'm up here with you, and that's perfect." you kiss his cheek.

[withahappyrefrain]

Peter & Sunshine ...goodbye (3)

Crying because I missed my babies! Peter with a Sunshine!reader/OC (appearance is not described too much); language and third person POV. You can read more about their adventure here. Kiss prompts here

She liked to think of herself as grounded. Calm. Assured.

She knew the routine was coming, that it was a part of his daily life. But hearing about it and witnessing it were two different things, much to her dismay.

Hearing about it made her bite her bottom lip, a distant yet manageable anxiousness building up in her brain. But Peter always came back, that's how he was able to tell her about it in that moment.

Seeing Peter get ready in person made her heart ache. Her throat tightened, leaving her unable to take a full breath as he looked over maps of the city, planning where he would patrol for the night.

He saw them as areas he could get work done, where he could make a difference.

She saw them as a bright flashing signs of danger.

"Sunshine?"

He was the only person who called her that, only person who could.

If anything happened, the nickname that made her feel warm and loved would die with him.

Peter's large hands placed on her shoulders forced her to look up.

"You okay?" His whiskey colored eyes were full of concern. Her face had hardened, lips pulled into a tight line instead of her usual radiant smile. Her brows knitted together in a tense knot.

She looked more like him in that moment. Peter didn't like it.

"Are you...." her voice cracked, "Come back to me. In one piece?"

His arms wrapped around her body, pulling her into a tight hug, her face against his chest. The sweet smell of cinnamon flooded her nostrils, bringing some relief to her aching heart.

"I'll come home to you. Always. Whatever it takes, Sunshine."

She knew he couldn't promise her that. Too many uncontrollable variables. Too many what if's.

But in his arms, in this moment, it was more than enough.

When she looked up, a small, but bright smile was on her face. Light flooding back into her eyes. The bridge of her nose slightly scrunched.

His sunshine.

With a hand now in his chestnut hair, she was able to guide his lips to hers. Peter's lips were soft, well worth having to stand on the tips of her toes so they could stay pressed against her lips. A warmth bloomed in her chest, spreading to the rest of her body.

The ache in her chest subsided, though it still lurked due to knowing that after this kiss he would leave to patrol the streets of New York.

But for now, they both felt at ease. It would be different when he left her apartment, but she had prepared for that, a list of comfort movies and her cat, Yuzu, ready at her couch.

When they broke away for air, Peter now had a faint smile on his face, though his eyes still flickered with uneasiness.

Her fingers trace the side of his face, committed to remembering every scar and freckle.

"Go get 'em Tiger."

[reidslovely]

Frat! Peter who basically kicks you out after doing the due but things shift a little bit and he’s warming up to you right? So after sex they talk a little bit and that’s when reader gets up to put her clothes back on, and Peters like “🤨 the fuck are you doing? We were talking” and readers like “:0 oh” and gets back in bed for a cuddle (and maybe they fall asleep together)

Idk idk. I was the one who requested the Toxic! Peter ask a while back, so if you couldn’t tell this was another maladaptive daydream scenario :D. Have a good day

eeeeeee hehehe i love this *giggles and twirls hair* okay so..

instead of liking/hearting this post leave a comment or reblog!!

“Has the sun gone down already? Fuck Emma is gonna lose her mind.”

 You rushed out, your body moving just as fast as the words falling out of your mouth. Your clothes had been scattered around the floor: shirt tossed onto the footboard of Peter’s bed, your underwear even tossed onto the open windowsill. You were sure you would get all kind of comments from Peter’s brothers. 

Reality was Emma, your roommate, wouldn’t care where you were. She never expected you to come home after hanging out with Peter, but you always did. You just liked to use Emma as an excuse to end your hook up with Peter as easily as possible. You wanted to stay, trust you wanted to stay. However, Peter was clear his room was his space and you were not wanted in his space unless explicitly stated. It took you a couple weeks to catch on, after trying to cuddle with him multiple nights in a row failed you figured you’d save your ego from another bruising and leave before he could ask. 

“You don’t wanna hear the rest of my story?”

There was a fragility to his voice he looked up at you with his big doe eyes, and you swallowed your pride. “I didn’t even get to the good part, you didn’t even answer my question about how your day was. You can’t leave yet. I won’t allow it.”

His hand reached out and grabbed your hip, the skin where he grabbed going warm. You swallowed what was remaining of your pride and grabbed his wrist. 

“But your rule.” You whisper in return, thumb stroking the underside of his wrist. 

“Fuck the rule. I want you, in my bed, where it’s warm and you aren’t walking away from my conversation. Now get your ass back in here.” 

“Oh..” Was all that you could manage out, crawling back into the soft gray sheets. Your legs intertwining with his, head laying against his arm. 

“Now I’ll finish my story after you tell me how your psych test went.”

You smiled and started recounting your day following up to and after the psych test, even mentioning how you forgetting to turn your phone off during the test and Peter calling you almost costed you your grade. 

You listen to the rest of his story about how he, Miles, and Harry had been trying to get everything together for the party this weekend and Miles got his fake I.D. taken away. You smiled adding commentary here and there, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence besides the soft mumble of the sitcom on the TV. It wasn’t long before either of you were asleep.

The next morning you woke up to Peter turning off your alarm, his lips pressing to your forehead mumbling something. The weight of the mattress shifted as he got up and walked to the bathroom. You tucked your head under the pillow listening to the shower turn on. 

“Come on bashful, get up. Shower and we gotta get to class.” 

You smile as you peek out from under the pillow, maybe waking up in the Theta Tau house isn’t so bad after all.

___

taglist: @helloheyhihowdyheya @sincericida @moonyslove78 @a-lumos-in-the-nox @messymissy @adhdhufflepuff @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @ateliefloresdaprimavera @eevylynn

[inkluvs]

ribs — send me a sfw request

tasm!peter parker + [ TUCK ] receiver tucks sender into bed <33

don't wait for me

ok this is the cutesttt request u could've ever sent in i hope u like it <3 tw: sleep deprivation i think? pet names <3 (0.3k)

tasm! peter parker x reader

summer celly // masterlist // taglist

It wasn’t often that Peter goes to sleep early, the boy often comes home after you go to bed and leaves for school before you wake up, leaving you with a shell of warmth where he was next to you and a press of his lips against yours. So it’s safe to say you were surprised when you came home and noticed a lump under the covers that looked suspiciously similar to your boyfriend, the same soft snores muffled by the fabric.

“Pete?” You whispers.

He groans and you wince, immediately regretting your decision.

“Yeah?” His voice his scraping against his throat, low and rough with fatigue.

“Go back to sleep honey, I’m sorry.” He shakes his head just a bit too hard, leaving himself dizzy before looking back to you. He looks soft with sleep like he always does, a mark on his cheek from the pillow and his hair messed up perfectly.

“C’mere baby, I missed you.” You lean onto him, dropping all of your weight onto the boy. He falls back happily with a small ‘oof’ the tension from your day easing from your muscles as he holds you. 

“Everything okay? You’re never sleeping this early.” He yawns, nodding slowly.

“Got tired and took the day off, Queens will be alright for one night without me.” Your cheeks split it a grin and he mirrors it, slightly confused as to the reason but enthusiastic nonetheless.

“‘S what I’ve been saying.”Your nose wrinkles as you realize your current state, “Pete I’m still in my outside clothes.”

He tilts his head. “What’s wrong with that?”

“The sheets are clean.” You pause. “I’ll shower and be back, yeah? Don’t wait for me.” You press your lips against his temple, smoothing your thumb over the shine of your saliva before pulling the covers back up over him. He agrees, yawning as he turns onto his stomach, promptly falling asleep.