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mortwig · 2 years

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Night Monkey

18+ EXPLICIT [minors DNI] - Peter Parker/Spider-man fanfic

Words: 7,1k

Pairing: fem!superhero reader x Peter Parker (based on TASM!Peter but flexible)

Summary: Peter Parker takes a trip to Europe, where he encounters (and ruins the day of) an unnamed superhero (reader). Reader then demands help in return but they have to go into hiding together for a few days.

Tags: 18+ explicit, enemies to lovers, smut (if this is what you're here for, it's at the very end), slow burn, nudity, lots of sexual tension, minor violence, corruption (the political kind), misunderstandings, anonymity, cocky Peter, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, mild praise kink, mildly dubious consent, light choking, tied hands, some swearing, some mentions of past trauma, all characters are 18+.

Song inspo: Shame by InnerCut & mori

[I'm more updated on AO3 than I am here. Check my profile out here. I posted the link to this some time ago, so sorry if you've already come across it!]

Night monkey.

He publicly called you night monkey. Night. Monkey. On live television. With the whole world watching.

What kind of absolute rubbish superhero name is that. Who gave him permission to say it. Why was he talking about you in the first place.

Your first public appearance after being stung by that god forsaken black jellyfish.

It happened about six months ago. It had been just another normal day at the lab. Being a clumsy person in science had always been a struggle, but that particular day you were feeling unwell on top of it. You don’t remember what happened, you were running late, the lab coat got stuck on a chair, you tripped and banged your head against one of the tanks really hard. You opened your eyes, still lying on the floor, just in time to see the crack in the glass spreading. Next thing you know, the jellyfish that had been genetically engineered to remove plastic from the ocean was wrapped around your neck and the pain was unbearable. Your airways had swollen, you thought you were going to die from asphyxia, but then your vision became clear again. By the time your colleagues had run in from the neighbouring labs, you were actually feeling fine and you insisted to everyone that you did not need to go to hospital because the jellyfish was not dangerous. You didn’t know that for sure, actually, but you despised the doctors in the local emergency room and you really did feel fine. In fact, you felt better than you had all day, maybe even all week.

You still took the day off after the incident, mostly to settle everyone else’s nerves. You were surprised to see that by the time you got home, the swelling on your head had disappeared completely and the pain was gone. The red mark on your neck was still there, but it was painless. It actually looked more like a birthmark than a scar.

You were in the shower when things started to get properly weird. Your skin was glowing blue. That was weird enough in itself. But then when you tried to reach for the towel some kind of filament actually flew out of your wrist. From inside your skin.

You knew, rationally, that you should be freaking out. This was all extremely concerning, health wise. But you hadn’t felt this balanced in years. You also felt energised, almost like you could go for a run. That was very unlike you. But you did. And with every step you took it was more and more obvious that your body was undergoing some serious changes. But also, with every step, you felt you were gaining control over said changes. Not even a few hours had passed and you could control the glowing, the filaments (which you’d found out the hard way they stung), the newfound ability to detect and identify chemicals in the environment without need for any equipment, the ability to stay underwater for long periods of time and even the instant regeneration of your cells when injured or in pain.

You’d since become Rome’s silent guardian. You’d done your best, and mostly succeeded, at staying in the shadows, literally and figuratively. Your existence went by mostly unnoticed, other than a few rumours going about. You didn’t want the fame or the recognition or the drama that others enhanced individuals were attracting. You just wanted to do some much-needed good.

That is until, for whatever reason, Spider-man showed up today in Rome.

You were following a corrupt senator, trying to gather enough evidence of his murky businesses with the local drug-dealing elite. You were just off the Piazza Navona when you saw him on top of Neptune’s fountain. Spider-man. The absolute clown of the superhero guild.

That was enough distraction to lose sight of the senator. You cursed under your breath. You hated this job. But you also knew this was the only way of making Rome, even Italy, a better place.

Irritated, you went back to the Piazza and hid behind a street food cart to watch the scene unfold.

Spider-man seemed to be causing a panic, fighting a fish-like creature that emerged from the fountain. You had no intentions of intervening. It was way too exposed and surely the one and only Spider-man could handle it. But then that absolute moron snapped an arm off one of the stone angels and that was crossing the line.

Dressed in your black suit and mask, you’d dashed to the fountain, had a brief struggle with the creature, stung it with your filaments, and handed it to a stunned and speechless Spider-man. You’d then ran to hide in the nearest dark corner. Too late, however. A local TV station had been filming something for the news report nearby and had instantly shared the images with the city and then the world. It was the first time Spider-man had been spotted outside of New York. It was a big deal. You appearing in all the footage was collateral damage, but damage your regenerating cells could not repair.

You’d just entered a café, changed into street clothes, when you saw Spider-man being interviewed on TV.

“Really who we should thank is... Is... That person. I don’t know their name.” He was stammering.

He was being pressured into giving more information about his “assistant” as the reporter called it.

“Assistance is what he’s going to need when I catch him. Moron.” You whispered to yourself.

And that’s when he said it. “The Night Monkey.” In all fairness, it did sound like he was just desperately trying to get away from the journalists. But that was no excuse for coming up with such a horrendous name.

Your mouth is still agape, eyes glued to the screen, when the barista hands you your change and your coffee. She coughs quietly for you to move along. You finally react and practically run out of the café.

It’s just your luck that you run straight into someone walking past in the street, your coffee spilling all over both of you.

You don’t even look up as you exclaim “Look out, idiot”.

You’re trying to assess the damage of the massive brown stain on your t-shirt. You sigh and crouch to pick up the dropped cup. Next to it, on the ground, you see a backpack, likely belonging to other person.

“Sorry about that” he mutters in a strong north american accent. You stop right there. The backpack fabric is soaked through, like there’s something very wet inside. The proximity to the Piazza. The accent. The rough size and shape of the person...

He reaches down to grab his backpack and the sleeve of his oversized hoodie rides up just enough for you to get the confirmation you need: web-shooters.

You pretend to trip on the pavement edge, falling in his direction and pushing him back against the café’s wall. From this angle, no one inside can see you, and anyone walking past would think you are just a couple doing couple things. But in truth, your arm isn’t around his neck in a close hug, but pressed against it. You keep him close, your face pressed against his cheek. With your other hand, you encircle his wrist and you let a small filament brush against his skin, making him jolt.

You are sure if you could see his face, it would be the definition of confusion, tinted with a shade of panic. He could probably set himself free, but it would be a struggle and it would gather a lot of attention to two clearly gifted individuals so close to the crime scene.

You talk in a hushed but harsh tone, straight into his ear.

“Listen here, you clown. Your little charade back there cost me months of work. I saved your ass at the expense of my anonymity. And you thank me by ridiculing me in front of the entire country, if not the entire world by now. So trust me when I say the best thing you can do right now is leave Rome, leave Italy and keep that pretty mouth of yours shut about anything that might concern me.” He shivers lightly.

You can practically feel the range of emotions. Concern, to confusion, to realisation, to relief, and back to panic. You’re fairly certain he opens his mouth a little, but you don’t let him make a sound. “Have I made myself clear?” As you say those words, you press your arm against his neck a little bit harder, reminding him of his position at this very moment.

He gulps and nods. Not that there’s much else he can do.

“Good. Because if you don’t, that little sting you just felt on your wrist is going to find its way to much more sensitive areas of your exoskeleton.” You turn your arm so your wrist is facing up, and you let a filament rise until it’s right in his line of sight, and uncomfortably close to him.

You don’t wait around any longer. You turn on your heels and make your way swiftly back to where you started, hoping to still find some trace of the politician’s movements.

------

Some hours later, the sun is starting to set and you still haven’t moved from your hiding spot. Wearing your black outfit and mask, perched on the window of an empty building. You know someone is still in the drug lord’s penthouse. You know it is unlikely to be the politician, but you have no other leads at the moment and you’d rather not go home without at least one little victory today.

You check your phone again to see how the issue of your public appearance is doing. It isn’t great. Not only are a lot of people talking about it and sharing the images, they are actually calling you Night Monkey. You want to die.

Movement down in the street brings your attention back to the present. You audibly gasp. Finally, some good news. There are your corrupt politician and the drug lord, clearly intoxicated, coming out of the building. They are being unusually careless, maybe hoping the whole Spider-man and Night Monkey debacle has taken everyone’s attention off the streets for the day. In any case, this is your chance. You take some pictures on your phone.

This is all the hard proof you need for now. You’ll hand these two criminals off to the police, together with the pictures. Within the next 24 hours, while they are in custody, you’ll put together a report with all the intel you’ve been gathering. All of it will be programmed to go public. It isn’t a perfect system, but it does the job, making sure the police aren’t influenced by the far-reaching criminals.

Satisfied with the pictures, you make your way to the street. The two men are saying goodbye, laughing and joking loudly. You let some filaments stretch out of your wrist and make their way to their throats, wrapping around them. It doesn’t take long for them to realise they are in trouble, but the filaments quickly make their throats swell and the only sounds they can make are some struggling grunts. Swiftly, you take out some zip ties to restrain them. However, you suddenly notice they are signalling for help. To whom? It is deserted in this street. But they aren’t looking at someone in the street. Perched on a street lamp, your worst nightmare. Spider-man is looming over you. Not for long, though. Within a few seconds he is standing between you and the two men. One man, actually. In the confusion, the drug lord has slipped away and you just about catch a glimpse of him turning a corner. Damn it. This isn’t ideal, but at least you still have your main target.

“Get out of my way.” You say, sternly.

“You’re hurting people.” Is his only reply.

“Actually, that won’t even scar, I’ve been very gentle. And I assure you the pain he has been causing over the last fifteen years is much worse.”

“Spider-man…” the strained voice of the politician comes from behind him. “Help me. I am Senator Ricci. This woman attacked me.”

“Senator, sir, don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here.” Spider-man replies, eyes still glued to you, following your movements.

“Don’t you dare. This man is one of the most corrupt politicians in Italy. He must be stopped. I’ve been following him for months; this is my chance. Do not get in the way or you will regret it.” Your voice has a tinge of desperation. You cannot lose this battle as well.

“It’s always the threats with you…” He doesn’t get to finish, a siren wails at the end of the street. The drug lord must have tipped the police off in an effort to distract the attention off of his probably already moving headquarters.

“I cannot put into words how much I hate you.” You reply as you walk past him. You place a zip-tie on the politician’s wrists, but you have no time for anything else, you have to get out of there. Spider-man seems to think the same thing because he shoots a web up to the nearest street lamp, you start to run but your feet are no longer touching the floor. This can’t be happening. Ten seconds later you’re on a rooftop.

You can hear the politician’s voice some way away, he seems to have fully recovered: “The Night Monkey. The Night Monkey attacked me. She is a criminal. Issue a search warrant right away!”

You feel dizzy all of a sudden, and not about the sudden height. How did today go so wrong. You don’t even have the energy to fight Spider-man, as much as you want to. You drop to your knees, and bury your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry if you were telling the truth. I’m used to a different type of delinquency. More obviously criminal.”

You lift your head slowly. When you speak, your voice comes out weak but your tone is harsh.

“Oh, you’d say that. You’re so hypocritical. Chasing petty thieves. The real criminals are those who stop these people from getting the support they need. Like that man down there, who has been stealing from the health ministry to give it to the city’s drug lords.”

“I…” but you don’t let him finish.

“What are you even doing in Italy? Your American narrow-mindedness has no place here.”

“I was here on holiday. I never realised there’d be someone here already protecting the city. When I saw the creature in the fountain... I was just trying to help, I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“I have no interest in the implications of being a public figure. I don’t expect you to understand, you clearly enjoy the fame. With your flashy costume and your PR strategy.”

“You think you are so much better than me.” He sounds angry now.

“Maybe I am.” You snap back.

“Right. Well. I think I’m going to leave the city now. You’ve made it blatantly clear I am unwelcome.”

He raises his arm, webshooter ready. But your filaments wrap around his wrist before he can shoot. He jumps back, rubbing his finger on the stung skin.

“As much as this pains me, you cannot go. That man down there is going to try to frame me for something I haven’t done. And, unfortunately, you’re the only one who can testify in my favour.”

“What makes you think I would ever help you after the way you’ve been treating me?”

“Because it’s what you do.” The answer is so simple, so straight forward, he’s taken aback. You can tell even through the suit.

You take that as an opportunity to explain the plan.

“I always knew this was a possibility. It takes the police three whole days to comb through the city after a search and capture is issued. After that, the surveillance relaxes. We’ll use the time to expose all the intel on the Senator’s misdeeds. Then we'll come forward to the police. You’ll be on your way and I’ll go back to the shadows.”

He's still seemingly speechless.

“You owe me this, after how you’ve messed up everything today. Also I have little doubts the Senator’s story will include you. You’ll need to be incriminated too in case you bring up the company he was keeping this evening.”

“Fine.” His answer comes out curt.

You’re surprised by his tone. It reminds you of the footage you’ve been seeing recently on international news. The media has desensitised many people and they barely react to violence on screens anymore. But you, who sees and experiences it live every day... Let’s say you can now tell when someone is overdoing it. And Spider-man seemed to be really overdoing it recently. “Friendly neighbourhood Spider-man” is a term you have come to believe must belong in the past. The fights are always going on for too long, the punches are always too hard, the movements too intense. Together with the fact that, most of the times, his “criminals” are just victims of a corrupt system...

Spider-man snaps you back to reality. “Where are we going to stay then?”

“I know a place.”

------

Much to Spider-man’s obvious despair, you walk there. It’s not far anyway. He, however, is clearly not used to such conventional ways of moving about.

You like to call it your “safe-house”. In reality, it’s your uncle’s flat for when he decides to come to the city. Which is not often at all, used as he has gotten to the peacefulness of Tuscany. It’s actually really tiny, more of a studio than an apartment. But it’s cosy and there is always homemade food in the freezer.

“You can sleep on the couch.” You say bluntly.

With that, you disappear into the bedroom, crashing on the bed, exhausted from the day’s events. You don’t even bother taking off the suit.

It’s 3 am when you wake up again, suddenly feeling suffocated and in desperate need for some water. You take off your suit, and put on an old flowery shirt of your uncle’s and some shorts you find in a drawer.

You fully expect Spider-man to be fast asleep. The blanket and a pillow on the couch show signs of having been used, but it’s currently empty. You look around, quietly, suddenly feeling very exposed, although you’re standing in the dark.

You spot him on the balcony. He’s sitting on the ground, looking out over the city lights, his head leaning on the glass door. His suit is pulled down to his waist, his mask discarded on the floor next to the couch. You can’t see his face from where you stand. Good. You can’t see him, he can’t see you. Everyone stays hidden.

His dark hair is messy, sticking out in all directions. The moonlight reflects off his lean back, highlighting every line of every muscle. The sight is somewhat hypnotising...

It takes you a moment to snap out of it. You shake your head as you walk to the kitchen sink and fill a glass. But when you turn to head back to the bedroom, Spider-man is no longer outside where he was sitting.

You look around in a panic but he’s nowhere to be seen. A voice comes from above you. “This is going to be a difficult few days if we’re going to be hiding our faces the whole time.”

He’s attached to the ceiling, but his face is turned to the city lights again.

“I’m sure you’ve done harder things. Like catching that car thief last month. Or the Christmas interview with the Bugle.”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” he snaps back.

“Shouldn’t you?” you start walking again as you whisper sarcastically “whatever could be keeping the amazing Spider-man up at night...”

You’re reaching for the doorknob when you hear the unmistakeable sound of his web shooter. Your right hand is now stuck to the door, your left still holding the glass. You’re about to let go of it when another web sticks your hand to the glass. You’re no longer able to use your filaments. Unused to the powerlessness, you freeze. Spider-man is behind you in an instant. You don’t turn to look at him, still hoping to preserve your anonymity. His hands lean on the door, at either side of your head, caging you in.

“You’re the most annoying, most insensitive little shit I have ever met in my entire life.”

He moves closer and you instinctively step forward, ending up flush against the door.

“This is the first time you’ve been quiet since you’ve crossed my path.” His right hand moves from the door and takes some of your hair, moving it gently out of your face. “I think I like you like this.” His face is closer now, you can feel his warm breath on your cheek. His hand moves from your hair, slowly, to your face. His fingers rest finally on your lips.

You open your mouth to speak, to make a smart remark, anything really in order to regain some of your dignity. Your breath catches though, as his index and middle fingers slip into your mouth for a split second, just enough time to touch your tongue and retract quickly.

He doesn’t move away. You hear (or maybe you just feel) him putting his fingers into his mouth, his tongue circling them. He finally takes them out with a small pop. He leans close again, this time with his whole body. Pressing you further into the door. “Time to sleep, little Night Monkey. Big day of research tomorrow...” The tone in his words is cryptic, maybe a hint suggestive.

Your hands fall slightly, almost dropping the water, as the webs are removed. You turn, finally free of the haze that had overcome you. You are ready to kick his ass, metaphorically and/or literally. But he’s not in the room. You spot him finally, perched on the balcony railing, looking out at the city once more. There’s that hypnotising feeling again, rising from your belly and up to your chest. You quickly get into the bedroom and slam the door behind you.

Why didn’t you react in time. Why did you freeze. What was that all about? And most importantly, why is your underwear soaking right now...?

------

The next morning, you emerge with your mask on, and the casual clothes you’d found overnight. In one hand, you carry the empty glass, in the other, you’re balancing a laundry basket with the rest of your suit against your hip.

Spider-man is lying on the couch, elbow holding his head up. His mask is on but the suit is still down to his waist. You don’t look his way, embarrassed about last night, silly as it is since you can’t see each other’s faces. Somehow, you feel his gaze burning you. So you head to the kitchen sink to avoid him, and to ensure your voice doesn’t crack when you finally speak.

“I’m going to wash my suit if you want to put yours in as well. You’ll find some clothes in the bedroom.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you hear him walk around. You focus on making some breakfast with whatever you can find in the cupboards.

When he reappears, he’s wearing a colourful striped shirt and some grey sweatpants.

“Interesting fashion choice.” You stifle a giggle.

“Not a lot to choose from. Your boyfriend must be fun, there isn’t a single plain shirt in sight.”

“My uncle is indeed a very fun person. Hence why he doesn’t spend much of his time in Rome.”

“Hm.” Is his only response.

The rest of the day is spent mostly doing the necessary research for the case. The situation is quite tense, but the strictly professional activity leaves little way for things to get too heated, in several senses of the word. A lot of the time, you’re having to explain to him how to go about it. For someone who spends his life defending the law, he seems to know very little about how it works.

When the sun starts to set, you decide to call it a day. You have most of the material you need, but you’re way too tired to structure it now.

You come out of your shower, wrapped only in a towel. When you go to open the door, through the mirror, you see Spider-man lying on the bed. You put on your mask quickly before he notices you.

“You know, this bed is way more comfortable than the sofa out there. I don’t really see why I have to sleep out there. That’s not very Italian hospitality of you. Especially when I’m the one helping you out.”

“I thought we had already established this was your fault. And that we’d come to a mutually beneficial agreement.” You snap back.

“Still doesn’t explain why you get the nice bed.” His left hand is softly running through the sheets as his speaks. You can’t take your eyes off of it.

“It’s my safehouse. My rules.” You say, but you know your voice doesn’t come out with much conviction.

“Least we could do is share...” He’s almost purring now.

He’s toying with you, you realise. And you need to get back to reality.

“I’d like to not have to wear my mask also throughout the night. Wearing it all day has been exhausting as it is.” You’re back to your normal self. Tone neutral and confident. Maybe a bit too confident, as you get an idea to get some revenge on the games he’s been playing. “Take it off.”

“Excuse me?” he asks incredulously.

“Take the mask off, and you can have the bed.”

Somewhat dramatically, it starts to rain outside, the drops hitting the window with force.

You 100% expect him to make a speech on anonymity or drop the topic altogether and disappear. But to your surprise, the hand that had been travelling through the sheets stops in its tracks, tensing. In fact, his whole arm is tense now. With one swift motion he pulls his hand to the back of his neck and pulls.

Brown hair, messy as it had been at night. Brown eyes, piercing through your soul and burning with a passion that could only be hatred or desire... Or both.

You inhale sharply. He stands and walks towards you, taking his time, distracting himself with the things on the desk in the corner, or with the hat rack hung from the wall.

“You’re such a tease. All day with your silly tasks and your constant bossing. Pretending like you’re anything but weak for me. Like our little encounter last night hasn’t left you curious, desperate even.”

You’re speechless. You know you should just attack him there and then, stop this madness. But what he’s saying is true and you know that if you tried to deny it, the lie would be obvious and bleak.

“Ah, quiet again. Lovely.” He’s close now, his gaze finally landing on your body, travelling up and down it and up again. “Since we’ve met, you’ve been telling me what to do... I’m not used to that. I think it’s time to make it fair and change the dynamic a bit. What do you think?”

He’s now standing right in front of you. His thumb is playing with the edge of your mask. The rest of his fingers wrap around your neck gently but firmly.

“I think you’re delusional.” Your voice comes out surprisingly confident.

He leans close, his mouth brushing your ear as he speaks.

“And I think you’re going to be begging for me before our little lockdown ends.”

“We are leaving tomorrow.”

“I stand by my words.”

And with that, he’s gone. Or so you think. You’re inhaling some much needed air when you hear him speak from the door: “The bed is mine.”

------

The next few hours are spent not much differently than the morning. However, the tension in the air is palpable.

Spider-man is no longer wearing his mask, and he makes no effort to hide the fact that he checks you out at every chance he gets. On the other hand, you have doubled your efforts to make yourself as annoying as possible: telling him how to cook, complaining about the way he sits at the table, asking him to get the light at the other end of the room,...

You’re hoping he’s feeling less and less inclined to try anything else with you. You’ve given up on the having the bed anyway.

You settle into the sofa early, making it obvious you’re not going to socialise anymore this evening. After some lingering in the kitchen, Spider-man makes his way to the bedroom door. The light coming in from the street is outlining his figure, much like last night. He turns his head until you can see his profile perfectly.

“It’s Peter, by the way.”

You say nothing for a few seconds, stunned by this new display of trust. But you finally snap back in a last attempt to be unbearable.

“I don’t need to know your name.”

“Oh, but you will.”

He disappears into the bedroom with a light chuckle.

------

You’ve been staring at the ceiling for an hour. Before that, you’d been turning side to side for another hour. You can’t sleep. You can’t stop thinking about Spider-man, or rather, Peter. He was right, you really want him to fuck you. But you can’t. You have principles. And tomorrow evening you’ll be back in your flat with everything you need to get some release.

Maybe you could listen to some music, that tends to help you when you can’t sleep. You turn to get your headphones. But then you remember. You’re not in the bedroom. There’s no bedside with headphones in the drawer. There is also very little room to turn actually, and you lose your grip as you fall off the sofa.

“Ouch.”

You lie on the floor for a few seconds. Hoping Peter is asleep soundly enough not to have heard that.

You’re desperate now. You need to sleep and music is the only way you can think of achieving that. So you make a risky choice. You’re going to go get them.

You open the door very quietly. Peter is spread out across the bed, practically naked. His toned chest rising up and down with calm regular breaths.

After a few seconds assessing the situation, you decide it’s safe to proceed and, with all the stealth you can manage, you get to the bedside and quietly retrieve your headphones. You stop for a moment before retreating, to stare at Peter’s peaceful face, the beautiful curve of his neck, the hair ruffled as usual.

Fuck. He’s so hot. Your thoughts are spiralling out of control, going over the peculiar events of the last 24 hours. To your despair, you realise that you really want to beg for him right now. You have to get out of here. Now. You turn towards the door again, your hand still lingering on the bedside for balance, given your sudden light-headedness. But you don’t get far. An intense force pulls you from your wrist.

Before you know it, you’re lying on top of him. His eyes are wide open, intently examining your face for the first time, unashamed. You want to run but he’s holding you down with his arms around your waist.

“I told you you’d come begging.”

“Let go of me. I’m not here for you and I am certainly not begging.”

“You have a nice face.” His tone is almost surprised.

The compliment, if you could even call it that, is so ridiculous you laugh out loud in disbelief. “Thanks.” You charge the single word with as much disgust and sarcasm as you can.

“I’m going to enjoy seeing it contort in pleasure when I fuck you up.”

“Will you get that ridiculous idea out of your head already, you stupid clown?”

You have barely finished the sentence when he moves one hand to the back of your head and pushes you down towards him. Inevitably, your lips collide into his. To your despair, you reciprocate instead of using the distraction to hurt him, disappear or at least pretend to not want this. But the problem is you actually want it so bad that every sensible reason and silly excuse melts into nothing during that long first kiss.

You give up fighting. At least for the time being. In fact, you have suddenly become eager. Your hands move up, one up into his hair, the other leaning on his toned chest for support. Your lips moving more urgently by the minute.

His tongue teases your upper lip, and you bite his lower lip in encouragement. The kiss deepens, and your breaths gets heavy, panting into each other.

Peter starts moving his hips, imperceptibly at first, but slowly building up a rhythm. His growing arousal is obvious and the friction against your clit is oh-so welcome. You can’t keep it in any longer and you moan. It’s quiet enough to be missed, but there is no hiding from that stupid Spidey-sense. He stops moving. His tongue retracts from yours and his hips stay very still. After a moment, you both open your eyes to stare at each other. First you read surprise in his gaze, but shortly after it turns into amusement, as he grins against your still touching lips. Amusement leads way to mischief as he swiftly turns both of you around. He’s on top of you now. With a quick flick of his wrist, your hands are stuck to the headboard. You frown, and you go to open your mouth in protest, but he flicks his wrist once more and your mouth is sealed with more of that disgusting web.

He then moves back slightly until he’s barely on the bed. Looking at you up and down with a stupid smirk on his face.

“Now, now. Finally you’ve come to terms with the inevitable.”

He leans forward again, straddling you and essentially pinning you down in place. He starts undoing the buttons of your shirt, slowly, deliberately.

You try to move but it’s useless. Meanwhile, he continues talking.

“So now that we both know how much you want this...” he pauses from his work on the shirt to trail his hand over your crotch. Your eyelids flutter, your body betraying you and making your desire obvious. “It is time for me to play boss for a bit.”

He moves back and pulls down your shorts and underwear in one single motion. The last two buttons on your shirt leave little to the imagination. You’re essentially naked and on display for him.

He leans forward and, with no warning, licks a single line from your entrance to your clit. It makes you moan again, louder this time, despite being muffled by the webbing.

“Mmh. So wet for me already. You can be such a good girl. Why do you go to such lengths to be an annoying piece of shit?”

His hands are roaming your body now. He ventures into your mostly open shirt, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples. You jolt in surprise and pleasure. His cock, still covered by his underwear, is grinding against your core.

You’d probably define yourself as desperate right now. Which is exactly what he has been intending. You’re moaning again when he pulls the webbing off your mouth roughly. Your unfocused gaze comes back to fixate on his face. He doesn’t break eye contact, but gets up off the bed. You’re panting now.

“Beg for me.” He says it casually.

You don’t know where the last of your self-respect has been hiding, but it comes out now.

“I don’t beg.” You’re surprised by the conviction in your voice.

“You will beg for me. Or I’ll swing myself out of that window and you’ll never see me again.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Used as he seems to have grown to your tactics, he changes subject momentarily.

“What’s your name, Night Monkey?” the scorn in those last two words is obvious.

“Y/N.” You have little to hide by now. And you can’t think of a smart reply to the obvious insult anyway.

“Well, well, Y/N...” he slings himself to the ceiling, above the bed. “I think it’s a real shame that you’re not willing to collaborate.” He lowers himself head first until he’s hanging upside down just above you. His lips get dangerously close to yours, but they don’t touch. He lingers, moving slightly, readjusting, breathing slowly. “We could be having such a great time...” You can’t see his hand with his face blocking most of your field of vision, so it comes as a surprise when two of his fingers caress your clit. It’s almost imperceptible, the lightest touch you’ve ever experienced. Delicate. Teasing. “... If you’d just...” his fingers flick over your opening. “...beg.”

You stare at him. You’re losing your head. He smirks, as he brings his hand to his mouth and licks his two fingers. His tongue circles around for far longer than is necessary.

You can’t take it anymore.

“Please.” It comes out as a whisper.

Peter’s eyes darken. But he doesn’t give in so easily.

“I didn’t catch that, love, can you say it again?”

“Please, Peter...”

“Hmm, I told you you’d need to know my name. I like how it sounds from your lips.”

He jumps off the ceiling and kneels on the bed, far enough that you couldn’t touch him even if you could use your arms.

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me, Peter.”

“That sounds a lot better.” He leans closer. “But I think I deserve a little more after the hell you’ve put me through over the last two days.” His hand is running up your leg. His lips are travelling from your chest up to the base of your neck. You think you’ll pass out from the anticipation.

“I beg you, Peter. Fuck me. Fuck me up. I can’t take it anymore. I need your dick inside of me.” You realise you’re making little sense but you don’t care.

“Now we’re talking.” He replies, casually. He takes off his underwear and you barely catch a glimpse of his cock before he’s lining it up against your entrance.

“Is this what you want, pretty girl?” he’s whispering against your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“Yes.” Your voice cracks but you still add a whimpering “Please.”

“Good girl.” He whispers and pushes himself into you at once. He brings his lips to yours, distracting you from the slight pain of him stretching you.

You moan loudly into his mouth and that seems to spark something inside of him because he picks up the pace almost immediately.

His left arm is leaning next to your face and he lifts his hand enough to caress your face and hair. His other hand travels expertly down to your clit, rubbing softly every few thrusts. He could have made you cum already, and you realise he is keeping you on edge on purpose.

“You’re taking it so good for me, Y/N.” The comment sends a wave of pleasure down to your core and you tighten around him, close as ever to your release.

You can’t form a coherent sentence to let him know, but you don’t have to. He picks up on the clue and reacts by slowing down. You whimper in frustration.

“Don’t be upset, pretty girl, there is method in my madness.” He winks and quickly detaches your hands from the headboard but keeping them bound together.

Then, he grabs your shoulders and roughly turns you onto your stomach. He pulls your hips up to meet his. His hand wraps into your hair, lifting you rather painfully until your back is flush against his chest.

“I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll forget your own name.” He murmurs from behind.

He places your stuck hands against your clit, encouraging you to touch yourself. However, he still keeps his hand over yours, making sure the pace you keep is appropriate. With that, he pushes your head back onto the mattress with force.

Finally, he enters you again. The new angle lets him reach deeper inside of you. You all but scream into the mattress as he starts pounding into you with force. His speed starts to pick up quickly. You feel as well as hear his skin slapping onto yours every time he bottoms down inside of you.

“Peter...” You are not sure if you’ve actually said the words out loud, but he still reacts.

“Come on, then, love. Be a good girl and come for me.” He doesn’t falter while you finally reach the precipice. In a lucid split second, you realise the whole situation is insane and embarrassing. But the next thing you feel is your entire body spasming in pleasure and contracting against Peter’s dick. You hadn’t realised how close he was, lost as you were in your own climax. You’ve not even started recovering when he takes your hips roughly, holding you in place. Two, three, four more strokes and he’s right there with you. He’s still moaning gibberish when he lies down on top of you, spent and sated.

“What’s your name again?” He asks, between pants.

“You forgot my name?” You manage, still dazed.

“No, I just want to know if you remember it.” He chuckles into your hair. You can’t help but smile into the pillow.

“Ask me again in a few hours.” You say, yawning.

He gets up, moving away. You look at him through half shut eyes. He’s moving awkwardly, clearly unsure where to go from there. He seems to decide to head to the bedroom door. You reach out and grab his wrist.

You pull him in, not differently to how he had done to you earlier. But the intentions are different. Reading your body language, he wraps your body with his own, cuddling you.

“Tomorrow we’ll forget all of this happened.” You say, dozing off already.

You don’t know if the words he says in reply are real or part of your dream.

“I could never.”

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vampzyke · 8 months

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don'ts

male reader, noncon/dubcon, weird kinks etc JUST NOTHING OUT OF THE ORDINARY. if ur not sure, send it in anywayy

anyways, here r the characters/fandoms i am open to writing for!

jerome valeska

fiona gallagher

jon snow

daenerys targaryen

carmen berzatto

walter de ville

damon salvatore

tony stark

valkyrie

carol danvers

peter parker (webbverse)

inej ghafa

nina zenik

alina starkov

and etc!!!

If you don't see a character on the list but think i might know/write them, just ask!! Im in a ton of fandoms soo yah

<333

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yourbridgebetweenworlds · 1 month

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Spider-Man Masterlist

Nothing yet...

#the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker fanfic #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter x you #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter fluff #spiderman #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x yn

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gaymansruse · 2 years

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f r e n i m i e s

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 .𝟎𝟏

TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader [academic rivals??]

Summary → You and Peter never really liked each other, you were the preppy honour roll student that knew everyone and he was the quiet overachiever that usually kept to himself.. What happens when the two of them are forced to work together.

Warnings → Mild swearing, awkwardness between reader and peter because ugh teenage crushes are always awkward. other than that its just your typical academic rivals story sorta.

Word Count → 1.7k+

A/N → I haven't written anything in over a year due to my own laziness and lack of motivation, I don't expect this to be perfect, but this is also my first time posting any of my work. Critcism is welcome! Happy reading <3

The day was passing by slower than usual, you didn't share any classes with your friends and couldn't hang out with them during your breaks because you were helping one of the teachers out with setting up the hall for the yearly play.

It was currently last period and you were exhausted, thinking you only had a another hour to endure until you could go home and sleep.

That is until He walked in.

Peter Parker.

You had forgot of his existence in your brief moment of peace, too bad all nice things come to an end.

There were at least 3 empty seats in class today, but he just had to take the one right next to you.

"[y/l/n]" He said, smirking at you, as if knowing he ruined your mood.

"Parker." You said in return, annoyence very clear in your tone. "You look greasy today, did you forget to shower?"

"Yes actually, thank you for noticing, who knew you paid such close attention to me."

"It's not that unoticable if you look shiny."

"Isn't that a good thing? You look shiny constantly."

"What? No I don't." Feeling somewhat self concious you pulled out your small pocket mirror to check. Of course he was lying.

"Wow, you really care about what I say."

"Shut up and do your work, Parker."

"Whatever you say, [y/l/n]."

Does he always have to get the last word in? Why is his voice so unbelievably annoying? How do you forget to shower? How does he still look so cute though? Ew no, he doesn't stop thinking that, he's gross and greasy and him and his charming stupid smile arent't gonna win today.

You snap back to reality when the teacher starts reading out names in pairs. Shit, you should have been listening.

"Peter Parker and [y/n] [y/l/n]."

H e h ?

"Looks like we're partners now [y/l/n]"

"Oh god no." You whisper to yourself, Peter clearly heard considering he had a shit eating grin on his face.

"So.. Partner, Whatcha feel like doing for the project?"

"I- ugh, I wasn't paying attention."

"Hmm? What was that?"

"I said I wasn't paying attention." I whisper yelled at him. something tells me he already knew, because that stupid smile stayed the same.

"Well that just means I have to come over to your house so we can discuss it."

"What why? We have like 40 minutes of the lesson left anyway."

"Too late, I already made up my mind."

"Parker, I'm serious, the rest of this lesson is probably to discuss our projects anyway."

"Oh well, you're clearly not paying attention, so might as well do it when we get to your place."

"Oh my lord, if you're so insistent on this why can't we just go to your place?"

"Oooh, you just wanna see where I sleep don't you? What a freak."

"No, I'm just not allowed boys over."

"O-oh."

"Yeah, o-oh."

"Well then I guess I could let you over to my place, just be warned I live with my aunt May so.."

"I just hope she's cooler than you."

•❀•

The rest of the lesson was unusually silent between you and Peter, usually there was some type of comment here and there, but for some reason he didn't say anything.

You knew you hadn't done anything wrong, but it sorta felt like it you had.

When the bell rang you quickly packed up and waited for Peter to do the same, but it seemed like he was taking his time.

"Can you hurry up?"

"Are you really that excited to come over?"

"No, I just want to get this over and done with."

"Right, sure you do."

He had finially picked up his stuff and walked out of the classroom without looking back to see if you were following.

You tried to catch up to him without bumping into anyone, continuously saying sorry, excuse me and pardon me until you finally caught up to him.

How does he walk so fast.

"Do you have to walk so fast?"

"Do you have to walk so slow?"

"I was not walking slow."

"Seems to me like you were."

"You're a child."

In response he just gave a cute annoying grin and grabbed your arm so you wouldn't fall behind again.

Blood rushed to your cheeks and your skin tingled where he was holding. You wanted to push his arm off but then again you didn't. Why? you didn't know.

•❀•

He didn't live super far away from the school, but far enough that it was about a 30 minute walk to his apartment. When you got there a voice instantly greeted Peter in a cheerful tone, not realising you were there yet.

She was faced away from the door, stirring a pot of sauce over the stove.

"Hey aunt May! How was your day?"

"Oh my day was just fine dear." She turned around with a bright smile on her face, her aura bright and welcoming. Her eyes shifted to me, her smile somehow growing wider.

"Hello, I'm [y/n]. It's lovely to meet you." You couldn't help but smile as you spoke, something about her just made you so unbelievably happy.

"Oh Peter's told me all about you dear." She walked up to you with her arms wide and hugged you.

Peter's talked about me?

You look over to Peter to see him cringing at the statement, but there's still a light tink of pink on his cheeks. "Okay aunt May, that's enough, we need to do our school work now, so if you could please stop holding her hostage, that'd be great."

"Holding me hostage? I'd much rather stay out here with May than go work on our project with you."

"Well too bad." He said while grabbing my arm and dragging you to his room.

"I'll be back for you May!"

She let out a hearty laugh and went back to cooking.

Once in Peters room he sat down on his bed and pulled out his school books, while you stood awkwardly near the door.

"You can sit down on my bed if you want, I also I a chair near my desk too." He said while looking up at you. Before you could answer though, he spoke again. "I'm gonna go for a quick shower, don't wanna be all greasy. I'll be right back."

And at that he sped out of the room to where you would assume the bathroom is.

I guess it wouldn't hurt to look around..

You set down your bag on his bed and glanced around the room, he had posters of various different franchises, his bed situated in in the corner near the window and the sheets ruffed and untidy from when he sad on it.

Near the door was his desk that had several books on string theory and quantum physics. Interesting. But tthere were also sheets that were filled with his writing on different formulars, you weren't exactly interesting in looking at chemisty equations so you moved your eyes elsewhere.

You noticed there was a book peeking out from under his bed, you picked it up to see there was no title, and its pages where quite thick.

You flicked through it, realising it was all pictures of random things, with a few words written underneath them, you kept skimming through until you saw a picture of yourself, and the words underneath read.

Looking at her is like looking at the sun, it hurts but it's just so beautiful to not look at. Knowing she'll never like me in the same way just means I can admire her beauty from afar.

Just as you were about to flip to another page, you heard the door open. "I told you I'd be quick." Peter walked in with a smile, his hair wet from the shower, and his clothes looked baggier and more comfy.

His smile dropped when he saw what you was holding, and it turned into a frown when he saw what page you were on. "Did nobody ever tell you not to snoop?"

"I'm sorry Peter, I didn't know what it was and when I realised I couldn't stop looking."

"It's not that you couldn't, you just didn't want to. How self centered to you have to be to look through peoples stuff thinking you can do what you want?"

His saddness quickly turned to anger, and rightfully so, you shouldn't have looked through his stuff.

"Peter I'm really sorry, truly."

"You are so spoiled to think I'd forgive you for this."

His voice raised a bit but not loud anout to alert aunt May.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, I'm just saying sorry, I can leave now if you want."

At that point he noticed how sad you looked, like you genuinely meant what you were saying. "No, no. It's fine, it's not that big of a deal, I shouldn't have gotten mad."

"But you did and that's totally fine. I shouldn't have looked through your stuff."

That's when you realised what exactly you had read, and blood rushed to your cheeks.

After a minute of silence, neither of you knowing what to say, you asked, "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"What you wrote."

"Yeah.. Does that bother you?" His eyes flickered down to the floor, as if waiting for you to say it does, that you don't like him.

"No, it doesn't. I just thought you hated me is all."

"How could anyone hate you, even when you're mean, you're nice."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Oh."

"How do you feel about me?"

"I- I think I like you.."

"You think?"

"I don't know, I'd like to get to know you more."

"I think thats a great idea."

"Really?"

"I mean yeah, I didn't expect a love confession or anything, maybe just an agreement to a date."

"I can do that."

"So you'll go on a date with me?"

"Yeah, I will."

"Cool, cool, cool."

That's when he started smiling, "So, how long have you liked me?"

"I said I think I like you Parker, don't get it twisted."

"Right, right. That's why you agreed to go on a date with me."

"I can easily take it back."

"Yeah you could, but you don't want to."

#tasm spiderman x reader #tasm spiderman x yn #tasm spidermanx you #fanfic #tasm peter parker x you #tasm peter parker x yn #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #tasm peter parker oneshot #tasm x reader #spiderman #peter parker

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wolfmoonmusic · 1 year

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Damn I have a lot to finish

#x reader #angst #fluff #x you #x you fluff #marvel #marauders era #grishaverse #james potter x yn #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x y/n #marauders x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #kaz brekker x reader #darkling x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone s2

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wonderswritings · 1 year

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When Worlds Collide 2: I've Lost Myself

Summary: In the past year, you’d suffered more than you’d ever could’ve imagined. Now, after a relative moment of peace, it seems trouble has started once more, and you’re dragged into it. The multiverse is real, and with it, possibilities of a new life.

Warnings: No Way Home Spoilers, Multiverse of Madness Spoilers, Angst, Lost Memories, Unrequited Feelings,

Pairings: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Stark!Reader (nicknamed Mel read book 1 to find out why)

AO3

When Worlds Collide Masterlist

When he’d returned to his world, he was back in his apartment, and even though nothing had changed, everything had changed. He had changed. He had a new outlook, and it was all because of her. YN Mel Stark. The fiercely loyal girl who did everything she could to save Peter. Her Peter. The multiverse is real. There are other hims out there. Other worlds. He still couldn’t believe it. But he knew it was real because he could still feel her lips against his. He could still feel the warmth he felt when the burst of her powers had surged through him. And he could still see her, even if it was a week later and she wasn’t physically with him. Currently, he was swinging though the city, dropping down into an empty alley. He changed into his civi clothes, flipping his hoodie up as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, walking out of the alley. He walked down the street that led to the one place he dreaded, following the all too familiar path. He came to a stop, flipping his bag in front of him and pulling the flowers out, wincing slightly as he set them down in front of the stone.

“I’m sorry they’re smushed, Gwen.”

He grinned slightly as he sat down, nodding.

“Though, it’s par for the course, isn’t it?”

There was a soft breeze, causing him to smile softly.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long since I last came. It uh- it’s been hard. But so much has happened. The multiverse is real. I went to this other world and I met other ‘mes’. I- I also met someone. She- she’s really sweet and protective and powerful.”

He chuckled, nodding.

“Like, super powerful. Her world is so different from ours. They’ve got wizards and witches and aliens too, apparently.”

Peter sighed softly, slightly grinning.

“I was- I was happy for the first time in a long time. And it sucks, because she’s not going to remember me should we ever meet again. But I- I hope we do meet again. I- I’d really like for you two to meet. The girl who made me happy and the girl who showed me how to be happy again.”

Peter looked up when the sky turned a dark reddish color, slightly making a face when there was a loud thundering sound.

“What the-”

He jumped up when the red faded into a flash of purple, a surge of familiarness hitting him. Peter looked around, making sure there was no one else around as he slipped his hoodie and sweats off, pulling his mask over his face.

“Sorry Gwen, I’ll be back. I promise.”

Peter swung through the city, gaining on the ever growing bright light when it disappeared, rain starting to fall, growing harder as he dropped onto the sidewalks, looking around. His spidey sense was silent, which caused him to be more on edge as he walked down the street, looking down each alley he passed when he heard it. If it wasn't for his enhanced hearing he would’ve missed it, the soft broken whimper. He followed it to a back alley, keeping his guard up when he heard it, the faint thumping of a heartbeat. He followed it as it grew louder, coming to a stop when he saw her, choking out a shocked gasp as his eyes widened under the mask.

“Mel?”

He dropped to his knees next to her, his hands hovering over her, hesitant to touch her. His heart sped up when he heard hers slow, ripping his mask off as he cradled her face in his hand, lightly tapping her cheek with the other.

“YN, YN please. Open your eyes.”

He tapped her cheek a little harder, his breathing growing frantic as he started to panic.

“Please, YN open your eyes. Please.”

Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision as he started to shake her.

“Mel, please.”

Peter jumped when she gasped, her eyes slamming open, glowing. Peter breathed a sigh of relief, whispering her name.

“Mel.”

The glow of her eyes pulsed before it faded, her eyes closing once more.

Peter was pacing back and forth, his mind racing. She was here. Here with him, laying in his bed. He had questions, the main being how was she here? But since he’d brought her here, she’d yet to wake, the steady thump thump of her heart the only thing keeping him freaking out more than he already was. He couldn’t risk taking her to the hospital, even if every part of his being wanted to, at least that way she’d get the proper care she needed. But she didn’t exist here, no record of her anywhere and that would cause questions, questions he wouldn’t be able to answer. He fell back onto his couch, leaning his head back as he rubbed at his temples, sighing.

“Oh man.”

He jumped when he heard a thud coming from his room, jumping up and running down the hall, throwing his door open, his eyes wide.

“YN?”

He stepped further into his room, looking around. The sheets on his bed were strewn about, the only sign that she’d been there.

“YN? YN where are you?”

He took a deep breath as he scanned the room, looking for any signs of YN. He started to panic, his breathing growing heavy. Was it even real? Did he just, imagine it? He moved to his bed, sitting on the edge of it, his head in his hand as he sighed, running his hand through his hair, catching a glimpse. He let his hand fall down as he leaned up, breathing a sigh of relief.

“YN.”

She was sitting in the corner, her knees pressed against the side of his desk, his hamper shoved in front of her. He stood up, walking towards her. She flinched, huddling closer to the wall, causing Peter to lift his hands, speaking softly.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

He moved so he was kneeling in front of the hamper, keeping a small distance between it and him.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, promise.”

He lowered his hands when she stopped shaking, jerking his chin towards the hamper.

“Can we move this? I just want to make sure you’re okay, that you’re not hurt.”

She watched him, staring him down before she slowly nodded. Peter offered her a small smile as he gently reached towards the hamper, moving it out to the side.

“There you are. What do you say to getting out of the corner? It can’t be comfortable.”

She slightly nodded, causing Peter to smile as he stood. He held his hand out towards her, offering her a soft smile as he nodded. She looked at his hand, slightly making a face before she slowly reached out, placing her hand in his. He was careful as he helped her stand.

“Good?”

She nodded, causing Peter to nod back as he turned, gently leading her back to his bed. He helped her sit down, his eyes widening when he saw the dried blood at her hairline. Without thinking he reached out, jumping as she grabbed his wrist, stopping him from touching her. He looked down at her, seeing her eyes glowing. She shook her head, letting his wrist go, dropping her hand back to her lap.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Peter shook his head, reaching towards his nightstand for the first aid kit as he knelt in front of her. She watched him as he set it on the bed next to her, flipping it open. He looked up at her, lifting the alcohol wipe.

“Can I?”

She nodded, Peter offering her a small smile as he reached up, gently wiping the blood. Peter caught her wringing her fingers together. He cast her a curious glance, causing her to take a deep breath, looking down at her hands.

“Do you- can you tell me who YN is?”

Peter stopped what he was doing, slowly looking back at her.

“What?”

“You- you called for YN. Who is that?”

Peter bit the inside of his cheek, tears stinging at his eyes. He took a deep breath, shaking his head.

“Uhm, yo- you are. Your name is YN.”

She made a face, slightly tilting her head to the side.

“YN. My name is YN?”

“Yes.”

Peter took a deep breath as grabbed a bandaid, opening the wrapping before he gently pressed it over the cut.

“Do- do you know who I am?”

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as she watched him start to clean up.

“No. I- I’m sorry.”

Peter looked back over her, shaking his head.

“Hey, no, no. It’s okay.”

He took a deep breath, glancing over at her.

“Do you- what do you remember?”

She sniffled, shaking her head.

“Nothing. I don’t remember anything.”

Peter fell back so he was sitting on the floor, his eyes wide as he looked up at her, muttering.

“Crap.”

Caps Tags

Everything Tags:

@jedi-dreea

@scarlett-witchhh

@cevans-winchester

@rafecameronswhore

@jennmurawski13-writes

When Worlds Collide Original Tags:

@nyx2021

@puredicks @jedi-dreea

@luvr-bunnyy

@xoxabs88xox

@scarlett-witchhh

@pancakefancake

@preciousbabypeter

@lacunaanonymoused

@shaded-echoes-recs

@multi-fandom-lover7667

TASM!Peter Parker Tags:

@preciousbabypeter

Marvel Tags:

@3leni

@vxidnik @qiqilious

@sky0401

@nyx2021

@dani5216

@ajeff855 @steph213 @23victoria

@kelseyd07

@jedi-dreea @dorks2022

@bxnnywatts @luvr-bunnyy

@sleutherclaw @thebookisbtr

@n00dlesncheese @mariaenchanted

@scarlett-witchhh @cevans-winchester @lacunaanonymoused

@rafecameronswhore @mychemicalimagines @maluisamarvelfan123

@todaywasafairytale07

@jennmurawski13-writes

@multi-fandom-lover7667

#when worlds collide #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #marvel x reader #andrew garfield!spiderman x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader

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thatweirdoleigh · 2 years

Text

love letters

I have wax sealing stuff and need excuses to write letters. therefore love letters!

Rules: One request per person, X reader or Character x Character. Angst? yes Fluff? also yes. Smut? No. Requests go in inbox via asks

Characters:

TVDU: Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson, Kol Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, Freya Mikaelson, Finn Mikaelson, Hope Mikaelson, Hayley Marshall-Kenner, Marcel Gerard

MCU: Steve Rodgers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Vison, Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Virginia (Pepper) Potts, Loki, Holland!Peter Parker, TASM!Peter Parker, Mj Jones, Ned Leeds, Harley Kenner,

S&B/SoC: The Darkling, Alina, Mal, Kaz, Inej, Nina, Matthias, Jesper, Wylan

Taglist incase any of you are interested.

@imgoingtofreakoutnow @elijahs-wife @yn-ymn-yln @dumble-daddy @xxwritemeastoryxx @hellotvshowtrash @dizzydancingdreamer @imaginearyparties

#leigh speaks #leigh writes some shit

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jungwonniesgf · 9 months

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I NEED HELP FINDING A FIC. it was a peter parker x yn and i think it was tasm!peter but i’m not sure.

synopsis: gwen(?) and peter are dating and yn is pining after peter, her roommate. last time i read it, it only had 2-3 chapters. yn and gwen and peter are all in the same friend group, that’s all i remember 😭 it’s not a lot of info AHHH

#peter parker #fic finder #tasm!peter x y/n #mcu #marvel #tasm peter parker #fanfic finder #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker fic finder

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vroomvroommuppett · 2 years

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previously pinned post

hi lovelies!

i’ve decided to do a prompt week! it will be friday, june 24 - friday , july 1. please say which list and number. since there are 2 pregnancy prompt lists, please say which one.

guidelines but feel free to ask if you have anymore that isn’t on the list

CLOSED

characters include:

joe keery

steve harrington

tasm!peter parker

druig

andrew garfield

barry keoghan

chris evans

richard madden

miles teller

rooster (top gun maverick)

andrew x barry x yn

andrew x mgg x yn

andrew x jesse x yn

you can also ask if you have a specific one you want

aus

sugar daddy (andrew, barry, and the throuples)

househusband!andrew x barry x yn

or any we’ve talked about

character(s) as parents

pregnancy one

pregnancy two

smut

tagging some moots (no pressure)

@ftrmrs-barry-keoghan @a-lumos-in-the-nox @redheadspark @peakyrogers

#andrew garfield #barry keoghan #k’s prompt week #richard madden #andrew x barry x yn #andrew x mgg x yn #joe keery #steve harrington #chris evans

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toomanyfandomsimfanvergent · 2 years

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Prompts you guys can request, some of them are fic/blurb ideas I have, just wondering if you guys would like them

Feel free to request anything

I write for;Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Peter Parker, Peter Parker TASM, Billy hargrove x sister, Four Eaton,

If someone is in my bio I also wrote for them.

PSA these ones are 1A

YN singing a song that means a lot to them at their lowest. For this one if you don't choose a song I will just do something generic, remember it would be an old song, (you are my sunshine, Kate bush, AC/DC,) If you don't decide why they are at their lowest I will just choose something

"YOURE INSANE," "I know, isn't it great,"

"I think I can love you,"

"Guess who came back,"

"Why are you staring at me like that," "I ... Think I just finally..... Understood you,"

These are the ones I have ideas for .....

PSA these ones are 1B

Yn and Steve fight because Nancy is trying to get Steve back.

Peter (TASM) and reader fluff.

steve Harrington x badass reader

I posted a fic, where yn was comforting Steve and talked about their date. Dustin ended up going. I could post the date if you guys wanted. It might not be 100 percent accurate with the fic.

Steve Harrington x Hargrove reader. I could do the dates where billy was sneaking to check on yn. Or hanging out with the rest of the Party.

Steve trying to distract the reader from doing something stupid by kissing them. Then the reader getting low-key mad over it. But Steve just laughing it off, but then Steve is upset at the reader over smt and she distracts him with a kiss. He then realizes and is like, "I see what you did,"

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mortwig · 2 years

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Four drinks I'm wasted

Peter Parker/Spider-man blurb

Words: 670

Pairing: gn!reader x Peter Parker (based on TASM!Peter but flexible)

Summary: Reader's thing with Peter didn't end on a good note, but they still miss him. So they try to drown the loneliness in alcohol.

Tags: angsty, a bit fluffy maybe, ex dynamics, alcohol consumption, drunk characters.

Song inspo: Talia by King Princess

[Check my AO3 profile out here.]

Peter Parker ghosted you for the last time 6 weeks ago, give or take a few days.

You were embarrassed at how much it had affected you, ending things with him. It’s not like you had been together (if you could even call it that) for that long. Nor had he treated you that well. But he was sweet, and thoughtful, and hot.

He just kept leaving you stranded, with no explanation, no apology text, nothing. And you didn’t want to get hurt.

Six weeks without hearing from him. You had done so well, not drunk texting him even once, given your record.

But today is not a good day. The week is going terribly at work. You haven’t been able to call your mum, because she’s on holiday. And you dropped your coffee on your laptop this morning. So you deserve a drink.

Do you deserve four drinks? Maybe not. But the alcohol is burning so good down your throat. And you haven’t indulged in a long time, so it’s going straight to your head…

When the fourth shot hits the back of your throat, you’re positively wasted, and you are loving it. You swear you can see Peter standing right there in front of you, hand stretched out towards you, asking you to dance. He’s smiling, he’s leaning down to kiss you. You’re both lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, laughing at each other, locking eyes, kissing again. But it’s all in your head and you know it, deep down you do know it.

So after enjoying the fantasy in your mind for a long, long time, you feel a few stray tears falling down your face. You feel ridiculous for feeling like this about someone who clearly hasn’t spared you a single thought since saying goodbye. You get up to open the window. The fresh air will clear your head and tomorrow will be a better day. Or so you’re trying to tell yourself.

But you freeze in place, barely a step away from the window. You can’t believe your eyes. Spider-man is sitting on your fire exit, just outside your window. His mask is off, his head is resting against your window but looking down. You see the tear roll down his cheek before you even recognise his face.

He turns to you and you lock eyes just as it all falls into place in your mind. Peter Parker is Spider-man. That’s why he kept ghosting you. That’s why he never gave a good reason for his behaviour.

And now he’s at your window, and he’s crying, and his eyes show a longing that can only be a reflection of your own.

You open the window and you continue to look at each other, neither knowing what to say.

“Peter…” you say softly.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out in response. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I was so awful. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to commit. I’m sorry I let you go. Now you know why I did it, but it’s still no excuse. And I’m sorry I showed up like this today, it’s creepy and it’s wrong, but it was a quiet night and I got drunk and all I was seeing was you. It was like I could taste your lipstick, and I just needed to see you.”

You could keep listening to him rant for hours, but you have other things in mind. So you put a hand to the back of his neck, and you pull him in for a kiss. He doesn’t hesitate long. He reciprocates the kiss with passion, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer.

He jumps in through the window, and now he’s standing right there in front of you, hand stretched out towards you, asking you to dance, although no music is playing. He’s smiling, he’s leaning down to kiss you again. Soon, you’re both lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, laughing at each other, locking eyes, and kissing again. And this time, it’s not in your head.

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forpeterparker · 2 years

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the 5 w’s | p. parker

summary: peter recalls the 5 w’s (who, what, when, where, and why) of falling in love with you.

genre: fluff, friends to lovers! au

word count: 1.7k

a/n: it’s been years since i’ve written fanfic type stuff so bare with me, BUT i have rediscovered my love for spiderman/peter parker thanks to nwh. there are NO spoilers for nwh in this btw! also, i tried making this gender neutral so that everyone can enjoy :) anyways, feel free to choose whatever peter you wish to gush over <3 *ik i chose an andrew gif (he just looks so cute in it) but this is literally so general to any peter pLEASe*

WHO.

Who Peter fell in love with was you. The person from his sophomore year chemistry class. The person who was the only other one, besides him, to answer questions in that class. The person who was, essentially, known by everyone at school. The person who he thought didn’t know he existed.

“Hey Peter,” you greeted him. He was sitting alone at lunch, scribbling down in his notebook. “Mind if I sit with you?” Before even finishing your question, you had already taken a seat across from him.

“H-hey Y/N. Of course,” he looked up at you with wide eyes and a slight smile. You had never sat with him before. Hell, you had never said anything more than “Hey Peter,” to him at all. As happy as he was to be within a 5-foot radius of you, he was confused nonetheless.

After a couple of seconds, Peter tried his best to subtly look around because he could feel the eyes of everyone staring at you guys. His Peter-Tingle was… definitely tingling. As for you, you didn’t mind being watched by everyone. You were happily enjoying your fruit snacks.

He looked back at you and cleared his throat, “Y-Y/N?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you sitting with me? It’s just that we don’t really talk that much. Like I’m not saying that it’s a bad thing. I think it’s a good thing actually, that you’re talking to me that is, but I’m just really confused.” He was rambling. You couldn’t help but smile.

“I just thought that it was about time that we finally became friends.”

Who Peter fell in love was the person who took the initiative to talk to him.

WHAT.

What Peter fell in love with was the person who loved. The person who loved animals, specifically dogs, despite being allergic to them. The person who loved taking pictures of pretty sunsets, even though it would just end up somewhere in your photo album. The person who loved having passionate conversations with him about the most random things. The person who loved helping others when needed.

It was nearly dark outside when Peter walked into the apartment where he lived with his Aunt May. However, she wasn’t home yet because she was getting last minute groceries for their dinner. Being Spider-Man wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows. To be frank, sometimes he would get fucked up.

Desperately wanting to get rest, he walked into his room and was shocked when he saw you sitting on his bed. He forgot that you guys had a physics project to work on.

You quickly looked up at the door and widened your eyes, “Holy shit, Peter! Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine! I’m just really tired and I had to sta–,” he rambled before you cut him off.

You stood up and walked towards him to examine his face, “Shut up, you idiot. You’re literally bleeding! What the hell happened? Do you know where your Aunt May keeps her first-aid kit?” Before you knew it, you were rambling just like him. It was more so like scolding a child at this point.

The space between you two began closing. He had never been this close to you. His exhaustion? Gone. All he could think about was how you were genuinely concerned for his well-being, how you were so focused when looking at the cut on his face, and how beautiful you looked up close.

Peter didn’t want to fight with you. Instead of answering with an “It’s fine. I’ll be okay,” he walked to his closet where he kept his own first-aid kit and handed it to you.

“Peter, I don’t like seeing you like this.” Before he knew it, you were already gathering the supplies to tend to his wound. “I’ll literally fight you myself if you get injured again,” you began cleaning the cut with an alcohol pad. “But after fighting you, I’ll always take care of you,” you said with small smile.

What Peter fell in love with was the person who loved to take care of him.

WHEN.

When Peter fell in love with you, it was the summer before your senior year of high school. He officially asked you out only a month and a half prior on the last day of school. Thinking that the free time would allow you guys to go out more, you were right, but you were also wrong. He would leave at the most random times and he would show up late to some of your dates. You started growing suspicious of his absences. Instead of jumping to conclusions, you wanted to communicate with him so you did what every teenage boy would be confused about: you sat on his bed and waited for him to come home.

Peter thought that the summertime would allow him to get even a small break from being Spider-Man. Well, he was wrong. Crime was still booming throughout the summertime. A concept that Peter didn’t really think through. He was smart, but not all the time.

His Aunt May had guests over and he didn’t have his regular clothes, so he had to crawl into the apartment through his bedroom window to avoid his identity being revealed to anyone.

After successfully crawling into his bedroom without Aunt May noticing his presence, he jumped down from the ceiling and took off his mask

“What the fu–,” you whispered before having your mouth be covered by Peter’s hands.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. To say that you almost shit your pants was pretty accurate.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he said removing his hands.

You stood there quiet, looking him up and down before whisper shouting, “Are you sure, Peter? It looks like that you’re fucking Spider-Man!”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, “W-well, I mean yes.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. Yes, I am Spider-Man, but you can’t tell anyone at all. Not even Aunt May. Nobody knows except for you.”

You held his face in your hands for a moment before kissing him. Breaking away, you looked him in the eyes and breathed, “Wow. My boyfriend is the Spider-Man. The guy with a great ass in the red and blue spandex suit. The guy who saves people. How many people can say that?”

When Peter fell in love with you, he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

WHERE.

Where Peter fell in love with you, he knew that this would be somewhere only you guys knew. You two had just graduated from high school. The graduation ceremony ended quite literally two hours ago and Peter insisted that he took you somewhere special.

He took you to the place where he went to get away from the world, the place where he went to clear his mind, and the place where he went to be alone. Now, Peter didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to be with you.

He prepared a whole picnic for the two of you including your favorite snacks and drinks. He opted for light food considering the fact that your family set up a big breakfast buffet to celebrate the two of you graduating.

“You know, I found this place a couple of years after my Uncle Ben died. Before becoming Spider-Man, I only came here about once a month, but after becoming Spider-Man, I came here about once a week.” he said after drinking from his Capri-Sun pouch.

“I’m really glad you took me here. I’m happy that you’re comfortable enough to share this special place with me. The view from here is absolutely beautiful,” you breathed out.

Looking towards you, he stated “It is beautiful, but I took you here because I’ve found another safe place. I started going there a lot recently.”

“Where is it?” you asked.

“Wherever you are.”

Where Peter fell in love with you, turned out to be wherever you guys were together.

WHY.

Why Peter fell in love with you was because you were the first thing on his mind when he woke up and the last thing before going to sleep. If he wasn’t fighting the bad guys or dealing with college, he was thinking about you.

He would think about how whenever you came to the apartment, you and Aunt May would look up different recipes on Pinterest that you guys wanted to do together. He would think about how he loved picking out horror movies on movie nights because it meant that you guys got to cuddle throughout the whole movie. He would think about how he was going to marry you and maybe have three children.

It was December and finals for the fall semester was slowly approaching. You and Peter didn’t have the same courses, but you still decided to study together in the comfort of the dining room of Aunt May’s apartment.

“Peter, stop staring at me.”

“Why?”

“You have a final to study for, dumbass.”

“Why should I study when you are literally in front of me?”

“You know, you’re kind of annoying.”

With a smile, he says, “You know, I’ve heard about this thing called the pomodoro technique. It’s like 25 minutes of work and then a 5 minute break. We’ve been studying for about 25 minutes so I think we deserve a 10 minute break.”

“Peter, we both know that if we take a break, then we’re not–,” Peter was already up from his chair and picked you up and put you over his shoulders so that you couldn’t retaliate.

You couldn’t be annoyed. It was a well deserved break and it didn’t help that you had an insanely handsome boyfriend.

“Put me down! My head is starting to hurt.”

Being the annoying asshole Peter Parker was, he had to say, “Only if you kiss me.”

“Fine.”

With that he put you down and you smiled while kissing him, “I love you.”

“I know you do.”

Why Peter fell in love with you was because you were you and it was always going to be you.

After remembering everything when it came to falling in love with you, all Peter could do was smile and hold back his tears. He thought this was it.

He pulled out a small box and got on one knee, “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

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