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#tasm Peter x reader
luveline · 6 months
Note
hiiii jade!!!! could i please request something with peter with reader who’s maybe put on some weight recently and is insecure about it?? (totally not self indulgent at all) i totally get it if you’re not comfortable writing that stuff though so no pressure
hi lovely! ty for requesting. fem, 1k
cw for negative weight talk/ weight gain
Everybody gains weight during the holidays, you think, tracing your figure in the mirror. Though it's not strictly holiday season yet, it's edging toward the end of the year. Maybe my new year's resolution should be losing a few pounds. 
There's a thunk of the bedroom window being yanked open and footsteps across the floor. You tense until your hear Peter panting for breath, likely having swung to you at high speed, or fresh from a fight with an usurped criminal. 
You rush back into your t-shirt, knowing exactly what path he'll walk. He barrels into the bathroom, sees you at the mirror and smiles so wide his cheeks look fit to burst. "Hey," he says, peeling the suit off and exposing his boxers to you without shame, "hey hey hey. Can I persuade you in with me?" He nods toward the shower. 
"Not this time, Pete." 
"Too bad," he laments. 
You look away as he strips out of his underwear. The shower turns on and he takes you by the hips to move you out of his way with a murmured apology, near lost to the drum of the spray. Peter has moments where he doesn't know his own strength, but the majority of the time he treats you like you're something precious. 
"Stay in here!" he demands as he pulls the curtain shut. 
"I'm not going anywhere." You close the toilet and sit on the lid. "Tough day protecting the people?" 
"Apart from tripping into a deceptively large pothole, it was fine. Why won't you come in here with me? I wanna rub your shoulders." 
"You want me to wash your hair." 
"Exactly. So get naked and get in here. Don't make me beg." 
You really don't want to, and you're not going to, but it's not a big problem. Peter doesn't truly mind, he just loves you. "What do you mean, deceptively big? Like, knee height? Higher?" 
"Mid thigh, I'd say. The people of New York are never gonna let me live it down. One guy was recording me and said he was gonna put it on YouTube for the ad money." 
"Anything else?" 
He gives you the rundown, describing what perps he faced and an older man he helped use an ATM machine. You hum distractedly, pinching at the fat where it spreads on your thigh, sitting down as you are. 
He sticks his face through the curtain gap, hair slicked to his cheeks. "What're you doing?" 
"You told me to stay, so I'm staying." 
He's nervous for a split second, glancing back into the shower as though there's an answer there waiting for him before angling himself toward you fully, his naked chest dripping and shining in the bathroom light. "Okay, fine, we need to talk about something. But I want you to know that you forced my hand here. Okay?" 
"Okay." You nibble the inside of your lip, used to his theatrics. "What have I done?" 
"It's not something you've done. It's something you are. I can't even say it. I," —he pulls the curtain in front of his face, moves it aside again– "just need to tell you. Lately it's like you don't even realise how beautiful you are and I'm tired of it. You're radiant. Like, glowing." 
Your recent internal debate must show on your face, that doubt, because he gives you a steadying smile. "Really, really beautiful," he says more seriously.
It's easy to smile at him. "Thank you, Pete." You scoop his suit off of the floor. "I'll go scrub the tetanus out of this in the kitchen sink." 
"Wait–" 
He can't just get out with suds in his hair, giving you the perfect escape plan. You have ten minutes to yourself filling the sink with soapy water and steeping the fabric before he's out of the bedroom in pyjamas, trousers tucked into his socks and hair damp from ferocious towel scrubbing. "You're such a– such a– thing," he decides. "I'm telling you you're beautiful and you walk off so you don't have to hear it? What's wrong with you?" His voice slips into a kinder register. "You do know you're pretty, right? I'm not just saying it to say it." 
"I'm just feeling icky," you confide. 
"About what?" 
You want to tell him, you find. "You know how I've gained weight?" 
He doesn't need any more explanation. Peter knows you've gained weight, you've mentioned it to him, and it's visual, and he can likely tell whenever he decides to flex his strength. "What, and you think that makes you less pretty?" He puts a damp hand behind your neck to bring you forward. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, a little." 
He kisses you. His nose bumps your nose, his lips crushed to your as he holds you in place. Despite this, it isn't an overly rough connection. It's definitely not shy. "You're beautiful," he says in the space between your lips. 
"It doesn't suit me–" 
"It does. It really fucking suits you. Have you seen yourself? You couldn't look better." 
"Even when I was thinner?" 
"You look just as perfect then as you did now." His intensity fades and he encourages you back enough to see your face, his thumb rubbing a short line into your neck. His brows are furrowed, dark eyes darker for it. "Weight isn't a factor." 
"No, but you have to say that." 
"I don't. Not really. I'm sure there are a thousand shitty guys who'd tell you something different, but I'm not– I love you, the whole you. I like you like this." He grins. "Which should be obvious." 
You tsk at him, to his delight, his laughter boyish as he buries his face in your neck with a hug, kissing a messy circle up and into the soft line of your jaw. You trap him there without thinking, chin hooked down, squirming as he blows hot air into your skin. 
"I've been putting it on too," he says. "It's happy weight." 
"It's not happy weight for you, Pete, it's just more muscle." 
"It makes you happy, doesn't it?" he jokes, smiling and kissing and hugging you all at once. "Just like it does on you for me."
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parkerpeter24 · 4 months
Text
quiet temptations
pairing ➳ tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
word count ➳ 2.3k
warnings ➳ SMUT. characters are 18+ and MINORS DNI. this contains depictions of fingering, oral (m recieving). fluff, peter being sweet but also horny-
summary ➳ you’re awfully quiet but peter can’t seem to take that.
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“is everything alright?” peter mumbled as he laid beside you. your back was to him, his arm wrapped around you, “you’re not talking.”
the bed you were laying on was warm, a thin blanket over the sheets because you got extra cold during the winters and a quilt that covered you and peter both. your fingers danced against the wall adjacent to the bed, feeling the cold plaster contrasting peter’s own fingertips that danced on your waist, under your sweatshirt.
“you gonna talk?” he placed a kiss on your hair that was loosely tucked behind your ear, making it fall over your eyes. chuckling when he heard you groan and push the lock of hair back in its original place, “so.. no?”
you sighed softly.
“that’s alright.” peter responded, feeling as if he was just talking to himself now, “we don’t need to talk if you don’t want to.”
the sound of your hum was accompanied by peter’s hand gliding under your sweatshirt and caressing your stomach. he was careful, as if you were made up of glass, watching out for any signs of refusal on your face but your features looked solemn, unchanging.
he sighed, not being able to hold in his concern, “alright, just nod if everything is okay…”
he waited for you and surely you did nod after a few seconds, making peter’s worries dissipate.
“what’s gotten you so quiet?” he tried to get you to talk, his fingers taking a detour from trailing upwards, making contact with the elastic hem of your sweatpants– which originally belonged to him, “‘cause one way or another, i’m gonna hear that pretty voice.”
you felt your face heat up but peter still didn’t notice any change in your expression. if he couldn’t see the blinking of your eyes and sense changing breathing pattern, he’d have assumed you were asleep.
“at least tell me you want this.” he mumbled into your neck, pressing his lips against your exposed skin.
“yeah.” you mumbled and peter wasted no time in sliding his hand under the fabric of your lower, arm holding your body against him. you let out a soft breath as his fingers travelled lower. his middle finger slid your panties to the side before making contact with the skin. he pressed soft kisses to your neck before his nimble finger delved into your folds.
a leg pressed between both of yours, parting your thighs as he nestled a warm hand against your sex.
you let out a soft sound, clutching onto the quilt. his finger sank deeper until he found the earliest bit of your arousal and pulled it out, wanting to spread the wetness everywhere.
his finger travelled up to your clit, circling around it and you bit your lip when he fucked it back into you, knuckle deep. he groaned softly, loving the way your muscles almost clenched his finger.
he repeated his actions a few more times until you couldn’t hold back the soft needy moans that he beyond waited to hear. you felt his teeth sink into the skin of your neck before he sucked that spot, soothing the sting from the bite.
you moaned when he curled his finger, trying to search for a spot that would make your sounds louder. his finger dipped into you inch by inch every time, showing he was in no hurry.
peter’s arm was strongly keeping you pressed against himself as you started to arch your back. he could tell you were getting needy but he wished to hear something from you– even though he was loving the musical moans you were letting out.
he pressed his ring finger into the mix, adding it when he pumped them into you the next time. his face pressed further into your hair when you tried to get away. he could tell you needed more– you were writhing, trying to grind your hips into his already hard cock– but he kept going at the slowest pace he could. one brush of his fingers against your most intimate spot and your lips parted in a loud gasp.
you tried to arch your back which only led to peter’s arm pressing harder against your abdomen. his lips were pressed together, letting out soft hums which accompanied each one of your moans as if encouraging you.
he pulled out both his fingers, fucking in again and then back out and in again until it became a faster rhythm. squelching sounds filled the mostly silent room as his leg parted yours even further.
peter rolled his fingers into you continuously, the heel of his palm nudging against your clit which had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, “pete-” you gasped, “m-more.”
the desperation in your voice made peter grind into your ass. his fingers fucked you faster, holding your legs apart, curling them into you just right until you were jutting your hips, chasing your high.
“good girl.” peter mumbled, “keep it up, baby.”
his fingers moved continuously in and out of you. he could tell you were close with the way you clenched his fingers, however before the coil in your abdomen burst, his fingers pulled out of you, a soft wet sound following it– completely opposite to the loud whine that left your mouth.
“oh my god- why’d you stop?!”
“now you wanna talk?” he mumbled into your hair.
you felt your cheeks heating up further than they were. you hid your face into the pillow, but peter wasn’t letting that happen. he tugged at your chin with his free hand, “oh, baby. trust me, i want you to cum.”
you whined, biting your lip softly at his dirty words. you wondered if peter came prepared for this because no other day would you have expected such filthy words escaping his lips. he’d never done so before in all the times you two were intimate.
he turned you around gently, slowly pressing his forehead against yours as he brought up his fingers to his own lips, sucking them clean. he moaned at the taste as his tongue swirled around the digits, sending a wave of shivers up your spine and arousal to your core.
the second his fingers were released from between his soft, warm lips, your own pair replaced them, tasting remnants of yourself on his lips. you moaned softly, pressing your chest up against his.
“want you.” you breathed out heavily.
peter only shook his head, “not until you tell me what’s with the silence.”
“huh-” your brows pulled together in confusion, “you’re really not gonna-”
“first you tell me what happened.” he pecked your lips once, twice, and a few more times.
you sighed, pursing your lips as you tried to formulate what to say to him– or rather how.
when peter saw you struggle, opening your mouth and then closing it, he brushed a thumb against your cheek, “it’s okay, you should take your time.”
you nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand transfer to your cheek as your eyes met. his chocolate brown eyes swam with what you could identify as pure adoration.
“until then…” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss you.
soft at first, it escalated when he brushed his tongue past your lips, quickly finding yours in a slow yet passionate dance. peter pressed you against the mattress, handling the covers to stay over your bodies.
he wasted no time in moving his lips to your neck, hands going to hold your thighs apart as his thumb now brushed against your clothed thigh, kneading gently as his teeth nipped at your collarbone.
you gasped softly, letting him do as he pleased with you. as you held the back of his head with one hand, the soft, brunette sea of hair engulfed your fingers.
peter moved his hands to the hem of your sweatshirt, wasting no time in sliding it up past your chest, careful enough that you weren’t exposed to the coldness of the room. he dived under the quilt, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, the other being knead in the palm of his fingers.
you gasped as peter’s tongue flicked the bundle of nerves, your stomach flush against his torso.
you could feel his lips curl into a smirk before he switched, rolling your sensitive left nipple between his slender fingers as he licked and pulled the right one in his mouth.
you were getting fidgety, squirming under peter as he felt your grip tighten on his locks, not enough to hurt. he moaned against your skin, placing a few kisses right under your breast, moving lower, now seeming in a hurry.
“pete-” you almost pleaded, finding your voice breathy.
his hands travelled under the pair of sweatpants, making quick work of sliding them down as he traced your thighs, down to your knees before you felt the material slide off you.
you lifted the quilt slightly, just wanting to get a glimpse of peter. the few rays of light that touched him weren’t fast enough to warn you as his lips pressed to the wet patch over your panties. you gasped and threw your head back.
you felt peter’s hot breath and the muffled sound of his moan from under the blanket. he pushed your thighs apart, diving deeper as his nose pressed against your clit, the fabric thick enough to make you grit your teeth, wanting his lips and tongue on you.
maybe peter heard the clenching of your teeth or the way that your hand found home in the tufts of his hair again but he was eagerly pushing down the material past your legs throwing it down to the floor.
you felt peter’s forearms lift your thighs as he shuffled closer to your core, licking up a bold stripe across your folds. your back arched but peter’s grip was keeping you against him.
for a moment you heard him groan as he retracted, “what’s wrong?” you breathed out, supporting yourself up on your elbows.
you almost laughed when his hand creeped out from under the quilt, holding his fogged up glasses out for you to take. with a chuckle, you held the frame between your fingers, quickly placing them to the bedside table.
as you laid your back against the bed, peter was quick to wrap his lips around your clit. you let out a moan as he licked and sucked on the bundle of nerves.
he held onto your thighs, keeping you firm against his lips as he explored the very intimate part of you. his tongue darted out, poking at your entrance, but not giving you enough time to notice that as he slid the muscle deeper against your walls.
you moaned, pressing a hand over your mouth to muffle the lewdest sound you’ve ever made. the bridge of his nose poked against your clit and peter only pressed deeper as his tongue delved in and out of you. it seemed as if he would see no tomorrow if he stopped making out with your dripping hole.
you arched your back, “pete- oh god-”
you felt him hum against you, sending your jaw drop open as you finally felt the pleasure crash all over your body. your toes curled and eyes rolled to the back of your head. you could swear this was the hardest you’d ever come before as goosebumps covered your arms.
you let out a sigh as peter helped you ride out your high, keeping up his ministrations. finally stopping, he placed a soft kiss over your clit, sending your body flinching at the action.
when peter climbed out from under the blanket, surely he looked like he needed to clean up. his chin dripping with your arousal and forehead all sweaty from being so long under the warm quilt.
“you need to wash your face.” you chuckled, brushing back a few locks of hair that were sticking to his forehead.
“and you need to tell me what’s wrong.” he mumbled and you sat up, adjusting your sweatshirt back down.
“it’s nothing-”
“and don’t you dare say it’s nothing.” he sat up as well, beside you, wiping mouth with the sleeve of his shirt– that thing was going in the washing machine the second this conversation was over.
“it’s… just… exams and stuff. you know how anxious i get.” you sighed.
“i know… but you don’t have to! there’s still a week left before-”
“okay, that may seem like a long time but trust me, it’s not.” you looked up at him, meeting the brown eyes that held concern, “i’m sorry, i… i was just overwhelmed. didn’t feel like talking.” you almost pouted, making peter pull you against his chest as he hugged you. you in turn wrapped your arms around his waist.
“trust me, i know how stressful exams can be. but it’s nothing you haven’t been through before.” he placed a soft kiss against your hair, making you hug him even tighter, “you got this, beautiful.”
“yeah, yeah, yeah. easy for you to say.”
he chuckled, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“you’re like, i don’t know, the smartest guy of our whole generation.” you mumbled against his shoulder.
peter shrugged at that comment, “hey, even i watch youtube videos for help sometimes.”
“yeah, but you grasp every concept so quickly, like you don’t even have to try.” you looked up at him, blinking when you realised how that must have sounded, “...that was supposed to be a compliment.”
“you’re adorable.” peter chuckled, “how about we study together? i’ll make a time table; and don’t worry, it’s not going to be super chaotic, just a simple time table; and we can figure it out together. how’s that sound?”
you smiled at him, feeling your heart swell at the amount of his care, “sounds perfect.”
his smile mirrored yours, “thanks for telling me.”
you gave him a grin.
“now since i told you, can we fuc-”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
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webslingingslasher · 10 months
Note
peters nerdy side>>>> can we get more hot nerdy peter pretty pleaseeeee
nerdy peter makes me feral.
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Peter Parker was finally rewarded for all the shit he deals with. 
A teen, who was a silent walker in school, but a near lethal hero at night, one that has to deal with more stress and traumas than any other kid at seventeen. Night after night, his spirit being broken down a little more each bad guy he’s put away. 
Queens see a hero that keeps the streets clean. 
Sometimes, all Peter could see was someone’s dad, or husband, or son he was putting away. 
All that bullshit he’s been dealt, the bullshit about power and responsibility, was washed away when he finally got something good, something he really thought he deserved. 
He got you, and that’s why he’ll stop at nothing to keep you. 
“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”
Was it dumb to listen to Flash of all people? Maybe. 
Does he know more about girls and has a better track record at keeping them? Yes. 
But of course, just like how you were the one to approach him, ask him out, kiss him first and ask for him to be your boyfriend, he should’ve trusted you. Could you really blame him though, not totally trusting he can have a purely good thing with no consequences? 
He couldn’t, that’s why it shocked him when you made it clear you only wanted him. 
You wanted Peter Parker, however he came. Science facts, nerdy hobbies, tirades and all. 
—---------------------
Have you ever built up an idea of who someone was in your head, and when you date the other shoe drops and they’re nothing like you thought? 
That was you with Peter Parker. 
He was adorably perfect, noticing him when sharing a history class. Peter sat three seats up from you on the left, perfect position for you to watch his habits. The shake in his leg, tapping pencils on his desk, blowing a breath every time someone answered incorrectly, sitting up and leaning over his desk when something catches his attention, chewing his bottom lip while going over notes, poking his tongue out when he takes a test. 
Peter Parker was the constant subject on your mind, starting in history and causing you to look for him in other classes, you only shared one more, typing class. He was three rows behind you, there wasn’t a good way to look at him, instead having to rely on his quiet murmurs when the teacher stands behind his computer. 
After two weeks of pining you couldn’t stand it, stomping over to his table at lunch you sit down right next to him. His friends paused at your sudden and aggressive entrance. 
“Hi. We haven’t really talked but we share typing and history. For two weeks straight I’ve been watching you and I can’t get you out of my head, and I would really, really like to go on a date with you.” 
You can see it on his face, how he goes from shock to excitement, then as he looks you over his face falls. He thinks you’re fucking with him, you don’t know how to make him believe it’s real. 
“Here,” you pull at your backpack and rip the front pocket open, you pull a sharpie out and with a slight tremble you grab his arm, pushing his sleeve up you uncap the marker with your teeth. Scribbling your number onto his skin, “think about it, let me know.” 
Before you lose your steam you scramble to stand and grab your bag, “okay, that’s all. Um,” you nod at his friends, silence deafening as everyone at the table takes in the scenario. “Thank you, and… enjoy lunch?” Cringing, you turn to leave, whispering an ‘oh my god,’ to yourself while pressing a hand to your cheek. 
Peter is sure in that moment you were a hundred percent serious and you just mortified yourself, spilling your guts and being met with nothing.
 Six steps away he calls out, “yes!” 
You pause, then turn, “what?” 
“Yes! I’ll go on a date with you.” 
Oh, that’s a new feeling. It felt like your heart had wings, your stomach felt like you were on a rollercoaster, flutters everywhere. You couldn’t even try to play it cool, the guy you’ve been crazy about just as interested and curious as you were. A toothy smile overtook your face, eyes lit up. 
Taking a few steps closer, you felt giddy. 
“Really? You will?” 
Peter’s smile matched yours, he laughed through his answer, he can’t believe you actually like him that much. “Yeah.” Biting your bottom lip you pull it together, “cool, text me and we’ll plan something?” 
“You got it.” 
Nodding you walk off, Peter’s riding on a high like never has. He’s never had such a pretty girl like you like him, want him, notice him. He felt like he’s been rewarded, that he does deserve a good thing. 
Flash scoffs when you sit back at your table, immediately talking and watching faces gasp and squeal. 
“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”
The last thing he wants to do, before he even gets you, is send you off. So, he listens and promises to be someone that should be with a girl like you, someone that isn’t really him. 
—---------------------
You figured it was first date nerves. 
That or just the fact you’ve never been alone with each other, especially under the guise of a date. It wasn’t like he was weird, but he was off. The person you watched in class was goofy, using his body to express himself, confident when speaking because he could back every word up. 
This Peter was quiet, guarded and almost… boring. 
You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, he just had some jitters. Maybe if you kissed him it would settle him, you could prove that you liked him and he had nothing to be nervous about. Trying to look past his awkwardness you took the night as it was, wishing he was making you laugh like he had in class, or wishing he would ramble on in a story like you’ve watched him do with his friends at lunch or at his locker. 
It may have been different than you thought but he’d come around after a date or two surly, you’d kiss him and after another few dates he’ll open up and be his true self. It was hope, but you were riding on it. 
Peter ended the night by walking you home, conversation slowly dwindling as you approached closer, falling flat when you were  in front of the building. Waiting for a moment you looked at his mouth, he made no reaction, you hadn’t expected him to sweep you off your feet but to not offer anything made you feel unsure. 
“Can I kiss you?” 
It was obvious from the look on his face that he wasn’t expecting anything in the slightest, but he licked his bottom lip and nodded softly, “yeah,” leaning in you wait for a moment, he makes no move, he has to be extremely nervous, no other option. You kissed him, you pressed into him and grabbed his face, his hands gently hovered and you pulled away. 
Maybe he just pitied you, just agreed because you put him on the spot. 
“Um, you know if you didn’t want-” 
“Can we do this again, please?” 
And just because he asked, and because it seemed like he realized he acted off and he wanted another chance, and because you really do believe in first date jitters, you say yes. 
—--------------
The first time you went over to his house his room was oddly clean, empty spaces on his bookshelf and shelves, almost like he’d put things away. Eyeing a bin by his closet you walked closer, “you collect comics?” Hoping you wouldn’t find, but still opening the top and starting to look through the ones on top. 
Peter took a deep breath, “as a kid, kinda stupid now, don’t you think?” 
You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head, looking back down at the comic in your hand. You thought when you started dating he’d open up more, instead he got more closed off. 
Clearing your throat you place the comics back in, in the exact same order and putting the lid back on. “No, I don’t think they’re stupid. I was hoping you had some new ones I could catch up on, but if you think they’re stupid now I guess I’ll have to get ‘em myself.” 
If he had known you like comics he would’ve never said that. It’s his fault for leaving them out, he should’ve put them away like everything else that screamed ‘nerd alert’. 
“I didn’t mean they’re stupid, just you know… collecting them as an adult… is.. weird?” 
The lamest excuse you’ve ever heard, but you keep your patience. It hasn't even been two weeks, he’ll come around. You know it. 
—------
Surprising Peter with a hug he budged against your weight before supporting you, talking to a friend while he wrapped his arms around your back. Picking up on pieces of the conversation you nudge your head up, interested in his words. 
The Peter you like, the one that’s animated and rambling, moving his hands across your back as he talks. You place a kiss at the bottom of his neck, “whatcha talking about?”  It sounded like a new program that was going to change the future of computer engineering, when you questioned he blew you off. “Nothing important.” 
You had tried, you tried to be kind and patient and understanding but he just wasn’t who you wanted. You wanted that person, the person that’s excited about new technology and collected comic books. 
Peter closed off when you asked, guarded back up, you wished it could’ve been different. Maybe one day he’d open up more, you didn’t want anything but his true self. 
You gave it a month before you had to accept that Peter Parker wasn’t the person you thought he was, today, you had to accept that you were breaking up with Peter Parker. Pulling away you grab his arm, silently telling him to look at you. 
“Can I come over later?” 
“Yeah, of course. Wanna come with me after school?” 
“Sure,” you wondered if he could see through your smile. It doesn’t seem like it, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss, you pull away and back away through the halls. 
He has no idea what’s coming. 
—------------
Gently pushing Peter’s shoulders down to coax him into sitting on the edge of his bed, you grin politely when he follows instruction. Dragging his desk chair to sit in front of him you pause to think about what you were going to say, clearing your throat you begin. 
“So, I like you a lot, and I’ve enjoyed having you as my boyfriend for the past month-” 
Peter’s eyebrows furrow, he holds his hand up, “enjoyed? Are you breaking up with me?” 
You bite your lip and nod solemnly, “I’m sorry, Peter.” 
The silence is unsettling, you look away from him, his figures deflated and his mind races. 
“Why?” 
Taking a deep breath and blowing it out you shrug, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Peter. But, uh, you’re just… not what I thought you’d be like.” 
How could you not like him? He’s done everything right. He was the perfect suitor, he acted like the typical non nerd male. The kind of all american guy every girl wanted. 
“I don’t… what does that mean?” 
You laugh, “I have a type, and you’re not it. I like nerds, like, straight up goofy, funny guys that know something about everything and collect comic books and get excited at new, humanity altering technology. I thought you were that guy, but I guess not.” 
Oh my god. 
He’s fucked it all up, he was dumb enough to believe you wanted something else. 
He can show you he’s a nerd, he’s been one his entire goddamn life, he’s about to nerd olympics the hell out of you. 
Peter jumps from his seat so quickly it startles you, his hands come down on the armrests of your chair, the seat tilting backwards as he pushes his weight towards you. 
“I’m the biggest nerd you’ll ever meet.” 
Your seat jostles when he lets go and opens his closet, pulling out a box he sets it on his bed. 
“This is everything I put away when we started dating,” he turns with three rubik’s cubes, each one in various sizes. “,these are my rubik’s cubes, I can finish the standard in forty three seconds, the six by six took me about thirty minutes and this baby?” he bounced the biggest one in his hold, “, this is a twenty one by twenty one, it took me about three hours.” 
Peter dropped them to the bed and continued, “and this is my national championship trophy for chess club,” he shoves it in your face before he keeps digging, a small picture frames come next, “this is when I won the states most innovative science fair project,” frantic digging, “, this is a figurine of my favorite video game,” two large disc sets next, “lord of the rings and star wars,” 
He spins around, flying past your body where he picks up his comic book container, “remember when I was late to our date last week? I was getting these,” three new additions of an old comic you had just started to pick up, “, and currently?” Peter moved to his desk, tapping on his keyboard until his screen woke up, code covered the screen, he pointed between the monitor and a notebook, “I’m learning to read binary code.” 
You felt like the grinch because your heart grew the times the size, adoration blossomed, you could feel your chest crack and glow. The Peter you wanted, the person you thought he was from the start, was real and in front of you. 
This was who he was, so why was he hiding it? 
“Why did you hide that from me? Peter, that’s like, the entire reason I wanted to date you. I liked who you were, then you turned into someone else.” 
Peter rested against his desk and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I figured a pretty girl like you wouldn’t want some nerdy guy, it might be cute at first but when I’m stoked about something I read on wikipedia and make it my thing for a day and talk your ear off about it, you’re gonna wish you had a boyfriend that just watches sport clips for fun.”
That’s the point you were trying to make, “that’s what I want! I was literally dumping you because you weren’t that.” 
“Well, I am that. So there’s no point in breaking up, right?” 
You hum and spin in his chair, “I dunno… you dragged me along for a month, hiding yourself from me, making me question everything. I mean, you have a lot to make up for, parker.” 
“C’mere,” you’re not given an option, he reaches forward and pulls the chair towards him and pulls you from the seat, flopping himself down and tugging you into his lap. Your stomach clenches, this was the confident Peter you wanted, it was confidence in himself. 
His pointer finger taps on the monitor, “you read binary from right to left, and you separate them into groups of eight. Now the key is knowing that each one and zero mean-” 
Your mouth on his, cutting his words off with a kiss, you held his face tightly, never wanting him to separate from you. Caught off guard he froze for a moment, then wrapped his hands around your middle. Pressing into him, separating for air but giving small pecks. 
“Baby,” kiss, “, I’m sorry,” kiss, “, I shut,” kiss, “, you out,” kiss, “I didn’t,” kiss, “, know it meant,” kiss, “, so much,” kiss, “, to you,” kiss. 
“You’re so much smarter than me,” a chaste kiss, “it’s so hot,” you look into his eyes, he’s flushed out and breathing harshly. “You’re so hot,” another kiss, Peter feels like the room is spinning, he’s never felt so wanted, so needed, the way you can’t stop kissing him, how tight you’re holding him to you, how blown your pupils are, the way you’re gulping him like water. 
“I mean if you,” he grunts when you kiss down his neck, biting into his collarbone. “, if you want, I could show you how quick I can solve my rubik’s cube.” Your hands drag up his hair, gripping and tilting his head away, better access to nibble and lick the skin. “Or, recite the first seventy nine numbers of pi.” 
Attention caught, “you know the first seventy nine numbers of pi?” 
“Mm hmm, I could also tell you” a whimper,  “, all the elements. Want me to start rattling them off?” 
Kissing the middle of his throat you hum, “I’d rather you take your pants off.” 
For the first time in Peter Parker’s life, memorizing the periodic table got him laid. 
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literaila · 5 months
Text
i’ll tell you in the morning
tasm!peter x reader
summary:
“you’re going to fall through the couch.”
“the couch would never betray me.”
warnings: overly considerate peter, scheming reader, fluff and stuff
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*
“you’re supposed to be in bed.”
his voice rolls, like a click on a cassette, and you know that peter is not really there.
because it’s all a little blurry. his voice, the door opening, the feeling when he kneels down next to you, his breath hot in your ear.
it’s all some remanent of a dream. a brief moment where you might wake up, but decide not to.
“i’m serious,” his voice ebbs and flows, waving in and out, like your consciousness. “you know i don’t like it when you wait up for me.”
you groan and roll even further into the couch. your face is smushed, and your hair is a mess, sweaty because you’re drowning under every blanket in the house. it smells like cotton, and peter’s deodorant, and potato chips that you probably dropped through the cushions.
you dig your nose in deeper, trying to get back to that dream.
peters probably not actually there, you think, because if he was he would’ve kissed you awake. his hand would be lazily running through your hair, and his body would be pressed against yours. you would be cuddling by now.
real peter is much nicer than dream peter, who shakes your shoulder, albeit massaging you right afterward. “c’mon, bug, we’re going to bed.”
“sleeping,” you mumble, pulling away from him.
dream peter continues to try and wake you up, while you wonder���amidst the dream, no doubt—when real peter will be home. you want to be drowning in his collarbone instead of your own sweat.
there’s a kiss next to your ear. “you’re going to fall through the couch.”
“the couch would never betray me.”
“we’ll see if you’re saying that in the morning, when your neck is bent the wrong way,” he whispers, and rests his head against yours. you feel it as he breathes out, relaxes. almost like he’s purring into your ear.
so you keen into him, a bit awkwardly, considering that it’s his forehead. “why’d you wake me up?”
“you can’t sleep here.”
“c’mere,” you murmur to him, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck, fingertips just brushing his hair. “cuddle with me.”
“being cute isn’t going to stop me from moving you.”
“peter,” you try and push him away, “go to bed.”
“why are you out here?” his nose trails down your hair, to your neck. “it’s almost four in the morning.”
you ponder this, and decide that you don’t really remember what you were doing before you fell asleep here, with your hand shoved in the crook of your neck. “the beds cold,” you slur, head falling back into the cushions as you doze.
“that’s because all of the blankets are out here. why didn’t you turn the heat up?”
he’s playing with some baby hair by your ear now, trying to lull you to sleep, probably, because he loves you.
“i was waiting for you,” you whisper this like a prayer, “and now you’re here.”
“you waited in the wrong spot. i would’ve come to bed with you. there’s no room for me here,” he smiles when you finally turn your head towards him. he’s got a smudge on his nose, and his eyes are sunken in—aged from exhaustion.
“i know.”
you’re both whispering. trying not to wake that drowsy, lovesick part of yourself right now.
“hmm?” he leans into you, nose brushing your cheek. almost like he’s breathing you in. “what, bug?”
“i wanted to fall asleep with you.”
then his eyes are wide open, and he leans back, brows furrowed in a tight line. “i told you i was going out.”
you muse at his confused face, and lean back towards him. “i know. i didn’t know when you’d be home.”
“you could’ve called.”
“i’m not going to interrupt your repertoire with a burglar at midnight. it’s rude.”
“not to me.”
you tsk, and lean away, back into the pillow comforting you while simultaneously scheming to ruin your morning.
“you need more sleep than i do,” peter adds, trying to keep you awake with his sheer willpower, his hands squirm under your shoulders. “we’ve talked about this.”
“no, you threatened to tell my mom—“
“that’s not what i said,” peter interrupts, groaning into the sofa.
“that i wasn’t getting enough sleep. and i said that you could make your own decisions, but that i wasn’t going to stop waiting up for you.”
“it makes me feel bad,” he ignores your gentle protesting. “i don’t want to keep you up.”
“peter, it’s not like you’re out dancing with strippers.”
he laughs, unexpectedly. and you grin back at him, with a sheer conviction undiluted by any hints of remaining sleep.
“you’re up helping people. i don’t mind waiting for you,” you emphasize this by leaning in to kiss his forehead, tasting sweat and not minding at all.
“you’re going to be tired tomorrow. when did you fall asleep?”
you acknowledge your win for what it is, and sit up on the couch, looking around your apartment like you can’t remember where you are. “probably an hour ago. i didn’t know when you’d be home, and i waited a while, but then i moved to the couch so you’d have to wake me up if i fell asleep.”
“so this was an elaborate scheme, huh?” peter laughs at you as his teeth graze your cheek. his chaste kiss makes you warm.
“i learned from the best.”
peter chuckles against you, and the two of you sit like that for a moment. calculating each others breathing like there’s something you might miss, however brief.
and then you smile at him, and he smiles back. “bed?” he asks you, softly, fingertip running against the skin of your jaw. you nod.
his arms wrap around you as he picks you up, your head rested comfortably on his shoulder, legs wrapped around his waist.
“i’m leaving you on the couch next time,” he threatens as he walks, “just so you know.”
“then we’ll both wake up with sore backs. not just you.”
peter snorts. “i didn’t say i would be there.”
“like you can sleep without me.”
he doesn’t say anything to that, but you feel him murmur in your hair suspiciously.
peter sets you down on the bed softly, pushing your legs so you’ll lay down, then covering you with the comforter. he tucks you in like any average middle aged dad.
when you grin he nods, very satisfied with himself.
“i’m just gonna change,” he says, taking a step back.
“hurry. i’m tired.”
“now, look who’s talking,” he shakes his head, but moves swiftly to the bathroom. you hear it as he runs the sink, as he bangs his foot on something and curses, and when he pads back into the bedroom, looking like a young child sneaking out of bed in his pajamas.
you laugh. “where did you get those?”
peter looks down to himself. to the many cartoon styled spider-man’s dancing across his cotton pajama set. “what? this old thing.”
“i don’t think i can be seen in public with you if you’re wearing that.”
“we are in the privacy of our bedroom,” he points out.
“i don’t think i can be in the same room with you if you’re wearing that.”
peter shakes his head, pouting like he’s disappointed, but he slips the shirt off, a concession he’s apparently willing to make.
though you don’t doubt that there are ulterior motives to this move.
“c’mon,” you whine to him, “i’m cold.”
“you’re so needy.”
you roll your eyes, but sink into him as he shuffles from beside you, laying his head near yours. “you’re not coddling me.”
“i’m so very sorry, my dear,” he whispers, and wraps his arms around you.
“shh,” you nuzzle your nose into his neck, and murmur against his hot skin. “i want to go back to the dream i was having.”
peter must be laughing at you, you can tell, even slightly asleep, because something jostles you.
“what was it about?”
you smile against him, listening to his heart like a hymn you’re devoted to. “i’ll tell you in the morning.”
he whispers something, brief, a whisper in the quiet of the room. but you feel the words as he settles into the bed, his calloused hands running over your skin.
and you fall asleep; hands clutching the others heart.
*
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phantomlifes · 8 months
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tasm who got sprayed with an aphrodisiac, so he goes to his roommate and fucks her well into the morning 🤭🤭🤭
A/N this deviated a bit but i needed to spread the munch agenda…hope you can forgive me friend…..
peter enters the apartment like a hurricane, his shaking body and heaving breaths impossible to ignore.
“peter?” you ask, eyes wide with concern. “what’s wrong?”
he doesn’t answer at first as he looks at you. of course you’d be wearing tiny pajama shorts right now, when he has no control of where his eyes land. he’s trying hard to catch his breath, his hands clenching into fists. he brushes the hair curled with sweat off his forehead and forces himself to look you in the eyes, raising his head higher. he anchors himself on your kitchen counter behind him. “aphrodisiac.” he breathed. “came home for my research.” he gulped, pushing himself to his bedroom, still evidently woozy. “gotta be an antidote.” he started to sway to the side, and you moved on instinct for him to fall in your arms.
“easy.” you drawled, arms shaking with his weight. you’ve never seen him in this state before. “where’s the antidote? do we have it?” you try to keep your voice level, but the urgency escapes your tongue in droves.
he shakes his head, looking up at you. his brown eyes have been blown even darker, the pupil completely swallowing his irises. “lab. somewhere. gotta go.” he pushes off of you, but you grab his shaking hand.
“there is no way in hell i’m letting you leave here like this.” you took a deep breath, knowing the ethics of this are dubious at best, since you’ve been attracted to him since the day he moved in and he is technically drugged. he’s obviously in pain, and you can’t let him go out alone all the way to the lab to get the antidote. you don’t even know if he’d survive. “look. it’s an aphrodisiac. i….” you closed your eyes before you continued. “if it will take the pain away, you could….take it out on me.” you swallowed, trying to put it gently.
peter looks at you in shock, managing to push himself off the ground all the way. “you mean it?” he asks, looking straight at your lips. “because it would…” his voice trails off, cracking.
“yes.” you grab his shoulders. “i mean it”
peter immediately grabs your face with his large hands and pulls you into him, his lips sliding against yours in an anxious release. you didn’t imagine your first kiss going like this, but it doesn’t count, right? as soon as he gets a bit of control of himself, though, he slows down a little, capturing you in a breath-sucking kiss, both of you breaking away for air twice. “are you sure?” he asks again, his voice a low rasp this time. you nod and he urges you to jump, carrying you with a kiss into his bedroom.
he lays you on the bed as gently as he can, and you immediately make work of sliding off your shorts and underwear. he’s so obvious with his staring, it’s adorable. “can i?” his eyes wander down and he asks again in that low rasp. “please?”
the way he said please sent a shiver down your spine. “yeah.” you answered breathlessly. “what do you want?”
“my face buried in your thighs.” he responds instantly, with the cadence of a casual conversation for something so brazen. you stifle a gasp and nod. he wastes no time gripping your thighs and hooking them on his shoulders. “you’re fucking dripping, baby.” he remarks as he starts to explore with his fingers. “this for me? you like seeing me worked up?” he almost whispers.
“i think so.” you manage to get out in between gasps from his fingers brushing against your clit. “do…do that more.”
“this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb in circles. “you like that, baby?” you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back with a stifled moan as your answer, and he grins. he takes this opportunity to start putting his mouth to work, his tongue lapping crudely as his thumb resumes pressing all of your nerves. the way he’s sucking and licking is filthy, the wet noises, his hums of delight and your cries of pleasure create a cacophony of pornography. you buck your hips against his face, pulling him closer lightly by his hair and when he groans you feel it inside of you. you whine, arching your back and he has to pin your hips down with a hand. he pulls his face away for a second, his mouth glistening with a smirk. “now who can’t control themselves?”
“shut up.” you whined in embarrassment, grabbing his hair and pulling him back down. he breathed a laugh against your clit, and you squirmed as much as you could in his hold. you’re not gonna last. he hummed and spoke into you, “yes ma’am.” and you knew you were done for.
“peter?” you whimper in between heavy breaths. “gonna cum.”
“yeah, baby?” he pulls his face away a bit, still keeping his thumb in position, only switching it to take your clit between his lips. “go on. cum for me.”
that’s all it took for you to release all over his chin with a weak little cry, your voice hoarse and breathless. you try to catch your breath, laying your head back on his pillow. “alright…” you breathed. “just give me a second…and you could…we could-“
“-about that.” he interrupted you. “i….i already did?” he says in a question, almost like he’s embarrassed, stark contrast to what his tone was minutes ago. “the effects wore off. let’s just leave it at that…” he trailed off, coughing. you prop yourself up on your elbows.
“did…did you…” you look down. “cum in your suit just from eating me out?”
he takes a deep breath, looking at you up and down. “maybe.”
you fall back with a giggle, and he immediately gets defensive. “what?”
“nothing.” you shake your head, the blood rushing to your face. “just so fucking hot.”
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madwcman · 3 months
Note
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.
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lotus-n-l0ve · 10 months
Text
𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐀 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞𝐞
— Peter Parker x Stark!Female Reader
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☯ SYNOPSIS : When Peter's girlfriend pays him a little visit in Midtown High School and meets his long time bully, Flash Thompson.
☯ WARNINGS : Au, stark!reader, Peter is barely present in the fic, cursing.
☯ NOTE FROM LOTUS : Hey guys. I have been having such a bad writer's block that I couldn't write anything for past few weeks. I'm writing this to, hopefully, get over my writer's block.
𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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The red Saleen S7 car, parked outside of Midtown High School, gaining curious glances from the students and passersby. You wait, sitting on the driver's seat, with your phone in your hand. The past week you were out of the country with your father so you had not seen him for the past seven days and barely got to talk to him.
So when you came back today, you wanted to give him a surprise visit. You came here, all confident, but now you were doubting your choices. Maybe you should just wait till school ends?
Fuck it. You are Y/N Stark, girl. Since when do you get nervous?
You checked yourself last time in the back mirror. Perfect as always. You throw yourself a flying kiss and put on your favourite pair of glasses. The car door opens with a click and you get down. It was not long before you were walking down the halls of Midtown High, making everyone stop what they were doing and gawk at you.
You chuckle in your mind. Of course you loved being the centre of attention. You were Tony Stark's daughter after all. Now there's one problem. You don't know exactly where Peter is. You look around the hall before your eyes fall on a boy, sitting with two girl on each side.
Without any second thoughts, you walk up to him, "Hey, do you know where Peter Parker is?"
Flash tore his eyes from the beautiful girls in his arm to the legs standing in front of him. He raised his eyes to your face. His gaze so disgusting that made you want to throw up.
"Talking to me, angel?" Flash stood up, abandoning the girls.
You roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt of flirting. At least he got the angel part right.
"I asked if you know where Peter Parker is." You deadpan.
"Peter Parker? Oh! You mean penis Parker. What do you need with him? I'm sure I can help you way more than he can." Flash wiggled his eyebrows at you, giving you a suggestive look.
You just stared at him, completely unimpressed and now angered. This pathetic flirt has the audacity to call your baby penis— wait a damn minute. Penis Parker? Something clicked in your mind.
"Are you Flash Thompson?" You ask before you could stop yourself.
Surprise flashed on his face before a smug smirk appeared on his face.
"Wow! I know that I'm famous but not much. Damn!" He said, running a hand through his hair.
You giggle at his ignorance as you take off your glasses. Folding it and keeping it safely in your hand bag, you step towards him, closing the distance between you two.
"Listen here you little shit." The smirk on his fell at your words, "If I ever hear from Peter that even got anywhere near him, I'll kidnap you, shave off your head, leave you on a deserted island and post your disgusting nudes all over the internet."
"Wh—"
"Shut up and listen." Flash gulped with fear, his face covered in sweat. The menacing aura around you looked scarier than the monster under his bed.
You say while jabbing on his forehead with your pointer finger, "Don't think of him, don't look at him, don't walk on his direction, don't breathe on his direction. Don't go anywhere around my boyfriend. Got it, you failed experiment of a chimpanzee?"
"Y-yes, I....um, I-I..... I under-understand." He nodded his head vigorously. Anything to get away from you.
"Good." You back away, giving him space to finally breathe in relief. Fuck! He didn't know Peter's girlfriend was this scary.
"Y/N?" The familiar voice of your boyfriend called from behind and your demeanour changed like lizards change colours.
"Hey, Pete." You walk up, giving him a quick kiss, "let's go, you are skipping class today. I missed you."
You linked your arm with him and started dragging him out of the school. Peter complied with you because he did miss you a lot too and skipping one day was not going to do any harm on him.
"I missed you a lot." Peter smiled down at you.
You left the school, leaving behind a embarrassed Flash. After you two left did Flash realised the crowd of students circling around him in the hallway. And they were chuckling while looking down at his pants?
Flash looked, "FUCK!"
His blue jeans were now dark blue, water spread on the floor around him. He had peed in his pants. His face turned red with anger and embarrassment. He should not have fucked with Peter.
FUCK!
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© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarize any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.
All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners.
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spider-stark · 1 year
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SPIDER-BOY
Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader
Summary - Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man.
friendly reminder - the best way to support writers on Tumblr is to reblog their work or comment <3:)
// masterlist // send me your thoughts //
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Two months. 
That was how long it had been since Peter first indulged in his ridiculous idea of talking to you under the guise of Spider-Man. Of course he hadn’t meant for it to last this long, promising himself that it was just to help him build his confidence–maybe even learn a bit about what kind of things you liked–so that he could actually ask you out as himself. Unfortunately, though, things hadn’t gone quite as he had planned. 
Spider-Man offered him a type of courage that he just wasn’t able to muster as Peter Parker. Under the cover of his mask he was able to come across as easy-going and flirtatious, never failing to leave your cheeks a deep crimson from the playful banter. Yet, when he did manage to speak to you as plain ole’ Peter, all of that was suddenly lost on him, leaving him a complete and total bumbling mess. As far as he was concerned, Peter Parker had no chance to be what any girl wanted, especially you. But Spider-Man was a different story.
And so he continued to exploit Spider-Man, using the masked hero as a means to continue getting closer to you, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his secret identity forever. To be fair, he would rationalize to himself, Spider-Man had taken a lot from him, it was only fair that he got something in return. 
Plus, the interactions had been mostly innocent. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself, opting to ignore the many times that coy attitudes began to border on actual sexual attraction. He tried not to think about those times (though there had been many nights where he purposely let those interactions slip into his mind, reliving them from the privacy of his bedroom), instead just promising himself that he wouldn’t let his romantic escapades as Spidey go too far. 
“So,” your voice filled his ears, his heart skipping a few beats at the sound, “at what point should I start to wonder if you’re stalking me?” 
Peter chuckled at the question, his fingers gripping the railing of the balcony to your apartment, effortlessly hanging from it. “Do you feel like I’m stalking you?” 
“Hm,” you placed a finger against your chin, pretending to be deep in thought, evoking even more laughter from the boy. “Maybe a bit.” 
“Oh yeah? What did I do to give that impression?” 
“Well, to be fair, you’re currently dangling a couple hundred feet in the air off the side of my balcony.” You told him matter-of-factly, gesturing to where he was still hanging from the railing. 
His brows furrowed beneath his mask, an expression that was barely noticeable due to the fabric covering his face. “And that makes me a stalker? I thought you’d find it romantic, a sort of Romeo-and-Juliet moment.” 
“Romeo threw pebbles at her window, he didn’t scale an entire apartment building dressed in spandex.” You reminded him, “But, actually, it’s more so that I don’t remember ever giving you my address.” 
Peter froze for a moment, having not thought about the fact that your previous run-ins with Spider-Man had always been in public spaces–catching you after work or just happening to bump into you on the street while patrolling–never at your home. He only knew where you lived because you had told him, but as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, when the two of you were assigned to a project together last week. He mentally face-palmed at his own ignorance. 
“Superheroes keep up with where all the pretty girls live. One of the lesser-known parts of the job.” He quipped, hoping that flattery would keep you from thinking too much into it. You only rolled your eyes at the comment, luckily not pressing any further. 
“So what did I do to deserve a surprise Spidey visit this time?” You hummed, leaning back against the cold brick of your apartment building.  
Peter hoisted himself over the edge of the balcony so that he was standing across from you, his arms finally beginning to ache from holding up his bodyweight for so long. “What, I’ve gotta have a reason to stop by and see my favorite civilian?” 
“Civilian?” You snorted. “And here I was thinking you and I were friends.” 
He dramatically placed his hands on either side of his face, feigning shock at your words, “Oh God no! You and me? Friends?” he let his hands fall to his waist, an exaggerated breath leaving his mouth, “No, not at all. I think that would be a conflict of interest.” 
You cocked a brow at him, “How so?” 
“I mean–I just think it would really interfere with our whole superhero slash damsel-in-distress routine, ya know?” 
“Damsel-in-distress?” You gasped incredulously at the claim, though the corners of your mouth were still quirked up in a smile. 
Peter nodded, “Uh, yeah. That’s literally our whole thing, isn’t it? You constantly running into trouble, me swinging in and saving your life.” 
“You haven’t had to save my life once Spider-Boy.” Peter scoffed at the name, acting like he was insulted. 
“Oh c’mon!” Peter dragged the word out, practically whining as he took a fraction of a step towards you, the movement enough to leave only a few inches between the both of you due to how small the balcony was. “You are literally always getting yourself into danger.” 
“Okay,” You crossed your arms over your chest, craning your neck so that you could actually look up at him, the masked vigilante having several inches on you, “give me an example then.” 
Peter rolled his eyes, a gesture only evident by the dramatic way his head moved along with them. He reached a gloved hand to your face, letting his fingertip gently brush against the semi-healed cut along your forehead. “You literally got this by tripping over your own shoes and banging your head against the counter at a coffee shop. Not to mention the fact that you spilled your entire coffee on yourself in the process.” He trailed away from the cut, moving to brush a stray hair behind your ear. He didn’t take his hand away, though, letting it rest against the side of your face. “You are always in danger because you are the danger.” 
Your eyes widened for a moment, so quick that he didn’t even notice the reaction. He was right, you had done that, an unfortunate consequence of being the clumsiest person alive. But, still, his words left you confused; remaining silent for just a moment as you turned them over in your head. When you finally opened your mouth to speak you were cut off by the sound of distant sirens, a groan immediately coming from him, knowing that your interaction would now be cut short. 
His thumb brushed against your cheek, acting as an unnecessary silent apology. 
“Sounds like somebody needs Spider-Man.” You told him as he let his hand fall from your skin, forcing himself to the railing. If he didn’t go now, he wouldn’t leave at all. “You better hurry, it could be one of those pretty girls you keep tabs on.” You shot a teasing grin in his direction, referencing his earlier comment. 
“Ugh, they just never give me a day off.” He joked, swinging his feet over the balcony railing before gripping onto it and allowing himself to once again hang from it. “Try not to trip into anything dangerous until I’m back.” 
He turned his head and reached one hand out, likely to shoot a web at the building across from yours, but hesitated when he heard you speak again, a sudden panic filling his body at your words, “Be safe, Parker.” 
The sirens continued blaring, growing closer with each second, but all he could hear was the sound of his own heart wildly thumping against his chest. “What?” He sounded completely dumbfounded, his head slowly turning back to look at you, only to find you standing with your own finger pointing to the cut he had traced on your forehead, a wide grin on your face. 
“Spider-Man wasn’t there the day that I fell.” You shot a knowing glance in his direction, one that had his cheeks heating up. He had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask, aware that his face was likely beet red. “I asked Peter to meet me there so I could borrow his biology notes.” 
Peter didn’t speak, too stunned by his own stupidity for slipping up and not thinking about how he was there that day as himself, not Spider-Man. This time you were the one to take a step forward and close the gap between you, having to lean down just a bit in order to be face-to-face as he dangled from the railing. 
“You’re a lot more confident in the suit.” You mused, your hands finding the base of his mask, lightly tugging the material up to reveal his face. Even though it was dark out you could still see that he was blushing. “But I prefer you without it.” 
His jaw fell slack, words getting caught in his throat as a million thoughts raced through his mind, though one thought in particular was a lot louder than the rest: I prefer you without it. 
“You should definitely go.” The sirens were now close enough that you could actually see the faint red-and-blue lights a few streets over. He looked in the direction of them but still didn’t make a single move to leave. You seemed to recognize his hesitation, tugging the mask back down over his face. “If you ever remember how to talk then you can come back when you’re done. But ditch the mask.” 
Peter nodded at your words, his eyes remaining glued to you as you straightened back up, turning your back to him to go back inside your apartment–leaving him to go off and be a hero. Once you were inside he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he forced himself to get into motion, swinging in the direction of the police lights. 
Turns out Peter Parker did have a chance.
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keerysfreckles · 4 months
Note
kinda really into a bestfriends w/ no boundaries with tasm!peter 👀
andrew’s just seems the touchiest haha <33
touchy feely fool – peter parker (tasm)
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pairing: tasm!peter x bff gn!reader
warnings: use of y/n, no specific pronouns mentioned, PETER FLUFF!!!!!!!!
a/n: IM BACK POOKIES RAAHHH
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
"peter!"
"y/n!"
you laugh, "why are you being so touchy today? i have to study for kaminksy's test."
"you're the smartest student in our grade. everyone knows you'll pass," peter responds, not daring to move his arms from hanging loosely around your neck.
"plus, you promised we'd have our movie night tonight, since someone bailed last weekend," he added.
"not really my fault i got sick pete," you answer, gaining a small chuckle out of the boy.
peter rests his chin on top of your head, watching as you continue writing flashcards for biology.
"are you almost done?" peter whines.
you giggle at his impatience, "i have four more cards peter. think you can wait that long?"
peter lets out a grumble for an answer, before flopping backwards onto your bed.
twelve minutes pass and just as promised, you stand from your desk chair to face peter. the boy instantly lights up, "are you done?"
you nod, "yes pete, now what movie do you want-"
before you can even get your question out, you feel your body being lifted off the ground. you can't help but laugh as you realize peter's holding you by your waist and running down your hallway towards your living room.
"peter!" your laughter continues, until he places you on the couch. "was that really necessary?" you move any hair that got in your face from the moment prior.
"yes, it was absolutely necessary," peter simply answers, before kneeling down and looking through the dvds beside the tv stand.
"you're an idiot parker," you can't help but smile.
peter smiles, "your favorite idiot."
670 notes · View notes
withahappyrefrain · 9 months
Note
I’m just *know* peter is the kind of guy to pound into you before giving you the softest most gentle kiss
He absolutely is! 18+! We have some size kink because I'm a basic bitch.
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"Peter." Your voice was barely above a whisper, strained and desperate. Hands clutched his dark locks, tangling yourself further with him.
"I'm right here ladybug," His words did little to soothe the throbbing ache between your legs. You needed him, all of him.
"Please." You try to cant your hips upwards, in a pathetic attempt to get more of him. And he knew exactly what you were trying to do, able to hold your hips down to the mattress.
"Just gotta ease in ya, 'kay?" A whine escaped your lips upon feeling his cock sink further into you. It felt so good and yet still not enough.
Peter pressed a kiss to your collarbone, "I know, doing so good for me. Taking me so well."
He was always gentle when it had been awhile since you two were intimate. Insisted on easing into you, getting you reacquainted with the sheer size of him.
Whines became all out groans as he bottomed out. Back arching in pleasure, you threw your head back as you reveled in the fullness you now felt.
"Feel so fucking good bug," Peter groans into your skin, feeling practically drunk off your scent.
"I-Peter-fuck." Your head is too busy spinning from how divine it feels when his cock brushes against that one spot.
Peter can't help but let out a chuckle, the corners of his eyes slightly creasing, "Already bug? I just started."
"Oh fuck off," the last word goes from intelligible to babble due to Peter finally increasing the pace of his thrusts.
All you could do was cling onto him as your body was submerged in total pleasure. It felt amazing to be full of him once more, to be consumed by only him. The scent of cinnamon was filling your nostrils, your fingers could feel every scar and mark on his body.
He pushed himself off of you, ignoring your whines as he sat up.
"Peter-"
"Just trust me bug."
That wasn't hard. You trusted him with your whole heart, with every fiber of your being.
His large calloused hands wrapped themselves around each of your ankles, bringing your legs up to his shoulders.
"Pete-oh!"
The new angle allowed him to thrust even deeper. Your fingers quickly found the bedsheets, grasping the fabric as your body was entirely at his mercy.
"You're s'pretty like this bug. All spread out just for me."
Heat flooded your body from his words. You could feel his honeyed eyes on you, taking in the way your breasts bounced with every thrust.
"Fuck, l-ladybug," Peter's voice faltered as your tight walls clenched his cock.
"P-Peter," you could barely get out his name. All you could focus on was how his cock perfectly found the spot that was making you start to see stars. You were on your way, given the way your thighs began to shake, the way the coil in your stomach was whining up.
"Whatcha need bug? C'mon, use your words, you can do it."
You whined, a hand trailing past your breasts to where your body and Peter's connected.
He moved your hand away from your body, replacing it with his own. Fingers far thicker than your own, calloused from years of hard work, found your clit, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bundle.
"That's what ya needed, huh? Your poor little clit, I'm sorry bug."
"Th-thank you- fuck!" The last word was screamed, your release hitting you like a freight train. Peter didn't relinquish his intense thrusting, continuing with his ministrations to help you ride out your high.
It felt like you were falling, white hot pleasure coursing through your body. Your eyes fluttered closed, seeing stars as you rode out the wave.
Peter watched you carefully, looking out for any signs of you coming down from your high. Once the loud moans had turned into whimpers, he gently placed your legs down, bending down so his chest hovered over yours.
"Bug?" You felt his thumb stroking your cheek. Upon opening your eyes, you found Peter, his face inches away from yours.
"There she is, my ladybug," He said gently before pressing a kiss to your forehead, "C'mere."
His arms wrapped themselves around your waist, helping you sit up as he pulled you into his lap.
"You okay?" He asked. You nodded, still trying to catch your breath.
"Good." His fingers hooked themselves under your chin, allowing him to tilt your head up.
His lips met yours, gently pressing against yours. His kisses were warm and comforting, always making you feel safe and loved. This particular one was soft, a stark contrast from moments ago.
"You did such a good job ladybug," His lips moved from yours to your cheek, peppering your skin, "You wanna keep going or do you want to take a break?"
"Can we take a break? I want you to come but I need time-"
"We have all the time in the world bug."
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luveline · 6 months
Note
hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/
thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k
"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 
"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 
Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 
"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 
You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 
You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 
"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 
"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 
"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 
You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 
"You're Peter?" you ask. 
Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 
Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 
"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."
"What do I usually look like?" 
"Not so, you know. Daunted." 
"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 
"Oh, you think so?" 
You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 
"Let's get you to the car, baby." 
"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 
"Home." 
"Together?" 
"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 
"Thank you," you say shyly. 
You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 
He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 
"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 
"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 
"You're my boyfriend?" 
"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 
"You want to get married? To me?" 
Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 
"We did?" 
He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 
"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.
"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 
"I love you," you say quietly. 
Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 
"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 
You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 
Which reminds him. 
"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 
"What is it?" you ask. 
Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.
"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 
5K notes · View notes
dwindlinghaze · 1 year
Text
back at you
(peter parker x reader)
summary: the five times peter stood you up and the one time you did it back.
contents: angst, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending.
  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
i. empire state building
"hi love!" peter waves at you before sitting down on the bench with his arms around you. "i miss you."
"hi pete," you say back, planting a small kiss on his nose.
"are you free tonight?"
"if i purposely forget about my stoichiometry homework then i am," you grin.
he laughs at your joke, "i want to take you on a date on top of the empire state building. we haven't been on a real date lately and i've been a really terrible boyfriend for that reason so i want to fix things up. so- er what do you say?"
"sure, i'll be there," you answered.
"no, i'll pick you up at six and swing you up there," he insists.
"i've never been swinging in a thin sticky line before. i don't know how to feel about this offer," you make a face.
"come on it'll be fun i promise! just hold on to me and i will make sure you're safe."
"alright," you smile at him under the may spring weather.
when evening came, you were picking out outfits to wear to the date. you don't want it to be too much, because you'll be swinging high up in the air. you picked a comfortable outfit, ready to wait for peter to arrive at your door.
but he didn't come.
fifteen minutes have passed and still- no calls or messages.
you began to worry, thinking he's in a spider-man trouble but you believe in him to know that he will escape any inconveniences because he's smart and agile.
an hour has passed. no calls or texts.
you felt disappointed. you were really looking forward into this because peter's life has been replaced with spider-man lately and you've been replaced by new york city.
thirty minutes later, peter called you, saying he was sorry for not making it.
"hey lovely, i'm sorry. i really am. please forgive me, there's a robbery on the subway and it took me quite sometime to beat them all up," he says breathlessly with the sound of the wind.
"oh yeah that's fine," you say, trying to hide your disappointment but he hears right through it. "are you okay?" you ask him.
even with your disappointment, you still asked him how he is after the fight.
"i'm quite alright. i can pick you up right now and we can head to the empire state building right now."
"pete, i have to finish my stoichiometry homework."
"i will do it for you."
"have you finished it?"
"no," he admits, a beat of silence filling the line.
"well, i will see you tomorrow then. good night."
"good night, i love you, sweets!"
"love you too," you say before ending the call.
ii. ice cream
you met peter two days later, his state more jagged somehow. new bruises and scars on his face. you notice how he now wears long sleeves instead of the normal graphic t-shirt he wore with a science joke screen printed on them.
"hi pete," you reach for him, taking his hand in yours.
peter smiles a lopsided smile.
"i haven't seen you since our supposedly date day," you say, "are you all right?"
"i'm sorry about that," he replies, scratching his nose which made the dried scar torn open. "ugh-"
you pull out a napkin from your bag, folding it before pressing it against his bleeding skin. "who did this to you."
"no one, i just fell while swinging," peter says, kissing your hand that rests in front of his lips.
"this is not a bruise, it looks like someone did this to you," you say.
"let's forget about this okay?" he takes both your hands. "an ice cream date tomorrow?"
"sure," you reply.
"hey you didn't sound too pleased with that," peter remarks.
"i'm just worried pete, what if being spider-man makes you dead?" you say.
"stop, i'm not going anywhere," he assures you as he squeezes your knuckles. "tomorrow at three?"
"three in the morning or evening," you ask jokingly.
"at dawn, sweetheart," peter plays along. "i'll be there tomorrow. meet me at the ice cream shop okay?"
"i will," you agree. "let's go home, it's getting late."
"i'll walk you home," peter insists, throwing his arms around your shoulders.
as the two of you walked home, peter's spidey tingles were tingling. he ignores it at first but then sirens came so he looks at you sadly. you nod, urging him to help the police.
"i'm sorry love, please text me when you get home. i love you," he yells as he disappears behind an alleyway.
"bye, i love you too," you whisper, starting to walk back home.
the next day came and you are now sitting on a booth inside the ice cream shop. the time is now three o'clock sharp and you are waiting for your boyfriend to walk through the door. your eyes are glued to the street outside, wishing every person passing by is peter parker.
three thirty, and still no peter. the waitress asks you for your order but you decline it, saying that you're supposed to be meeting someone.
three fourty five, still no peter. you wonder how pathetic you look sitting here in the warm dim light alone surrounded by sweet couples.
you start to worry about him, then you start to question yourself on why you're here alone. peter was supposed to be here forty five minutes ago. he was supposed to be here sipping milkshake and inhaling mint leaves to make you laugh.
you fumble with your fingers, heart tripping and falling with no safety net.
the waitress you talked to earlier came with a tray of strawberry ice cream with a sympathetic look on her face. "here, for free. if you were a cartoon character, there'll be a cumulonimbus cloud hovering over your head," she says, pushing the tray to you.
"oh thanks," you say tiredly, "you don't have to y'know, think i'll be leaving soon anyways."
"it's fine. my manager wouldn't be happy to see someone sitting here without ordering any of our menus," she declares.
"but you said it's for free?," you say.
"she wouldn't know. it's a gift for me to you because clearly your 'someone' is supposed to be here but they aren't. hope this makes it up."
"thank you, dorothy," you read off of her name tag.
four fifteen, still no sign of peter but the tv above the counter was showing a scene of spider-man fighting a criminal on top of a roof high up.
you sigh, eyes shooting bullets at the tv screen.
you pack your belongings before heading back to your home. once again, peter stood you up.
"oh my god," you screamed when you heard a crash behind you. you reluctantly turned around, only to see peter on the ground with his hair messy and unruly. "are you fine?"
peter stands up, shaking the dusts off of him. "love i'm sorry! i'm sorry! i'm-"
"peter, it's fine," you put on a smile, even though your intonation screams disappointment.
"it's not, just because you're smiling doesn't mean i didn't mess up," he says apologetically.
"you have your duties. i can't force you to throw it away like how you do your chores."
"don't make jokes now," peter sighs, "are you still up for it? i'll buy you every menu in there."
"i'm tired. i've been sitting inside there for over an hour i just want to go home," you admit.
"at least let me walk you home," peter insists once more.
"okay.." you start to walk away down the block.
"i'm sorry, honey. please forgive me! how about we move this to tomorrow?" he asks.
"i don't think you'll like it there," you say.
"hmm? why's that."
"because i think i fell for the waitress that was there," you try to joke around to make him feel less guilty. he already has so much on his shoulders and you don't want to be one of his baggages too.
"who? i'm not letting a stranger take you away from me," peter makes a salty face.
"secret," you giggle. peter takes your face between his hands before planting sloppy kisses around your face.
now it's like everything is perfect. peter kissing you under the sparkling lights of new york's buildings on the sidewalk.
iii. star wars marathon
"ah y/n hi sweetheart!" aunt may opens the door to greet you. "peter told me you were coming over for movies"
"hi aunt may, is he here?" you ask her as you take off your jacket and put it on the rack.
"i thought he was coming with you?"
"oh yeah! i was supposed to meet him at the skatepark but he told me to go here first," you cover up for him. peter hasn't told may about spider-man yet and you want to keep him out of trouble.
"oh alright, have you eaten dinner?" may asks.
"i'll wait for peter first, aunt may, thank you."
"you can wait upstairs, peter wouldn't mind," aunt may offers.
"i know," you smile at her before coming up the stair to his room.
you opened his bedroom door, taking in the surroundings. his room is extremely messy. like a wrecked ship. you climb up his bed, making yourself comfortable on his bedsheets.
it has been hours since you arrived and peter still wasn't here. he was taking so long to the point where you feel asleep in his bed.
you felt sick in your stomach. all you ever hope for is peter's safety out there.
you woke up when a crash was heard from his fire escape. your body jolt up, your full attention is now on his fire escape.
"oh y/n! i forgot about our movie date!" peter say once he saw your face. "i'm so sorry, please believe me. i was looking forward to it but i i got carried away! oh s-"
"pete, come here," you say sternly.
peter freezes, looking at you like a deer in headlights. he is ready for your scolding as he walks over to you but his thoughts were quickly pushed away when you rub his arms tenderly.
"what happened, darling?"
"nothing too bad," he lets out a breathy laugh. "you should see the other guy."
"no i don't want to see whoever did this to you," you say in disbelief. "stay here, i'll help you with these," you point to his new scars.
"i have super healing, it's fine, love," he assures. "just come here please. let's watch star wars together."
"um i think it's getting too late," you say much to peter's disappointment.
"what do you mean? it's only eight thirty, we can watch one movie!" he starts to replace his suit into his pajamas, ready to watch with you.
"i have to get home, my mom needs me to... uh wash her dishes," you tell him. it's not that you didn't want to watch with him. you're too moody and upset to be around him for now.
he has been absent for dates three times in a row and you feel like you were fighting alone.
you left peter alone in the bed. you can practically feel his melancholia floating through the air.
"hey aunt may, i'll be going now," you bid goodbye to her.
"oh goodbye sweetie," she says. "make sure you get home safe alright? peter should walk you home!"
"that won't be needed, i'm fine aunt may."
"all right," may smiles warmly at you despite the cold air of the night.
when you arrived home, peter has sent you twenty five messages in a row. each of them being
'i'm sorry'
'please answer me, love'
'get back to me when you're home safely."
'pls get home safe'
'i love you'
and those messages over and over again.
iv. science laboratory
since that day, peter calls you over and over agin wishing you'd pick up. and you did.
you answered his call only for him to say that he was sorry and he's going to plan a date again.
you were tired of him asking you for dates and ended up being alone. you rejected his offer, saying that you have some family stuff so you won't be able to make it.
and peter knows
he knows that you're upset he has been leaving you alone on dates.
so the only time left for him with you is for the lab homework. you two are lab partners and you had suggested to do it in your house.
firstly because you don't want to walk home alone in the dark, and secondly, you don't want to lie to aunt may again. knowing that one way or another, peter will probably get home late.
you sat on your sofa, waiting for him to knock on the door. you place out the text books on the tables, set out glasses of water, take out some snacks from your fridge. and peter is not even here.
waiting for him has got you tired so you decided to do the work done yourself.
you already got most of the answers required then peter shows up; drenched in sweat and blood at your window.
you heard the tapping from below and immediately sprint upstairs, knowing it is peter.
"hey, uh i'm sorry," he winces as he steps inside your bedroom.
"hey pete, it's fine," you say, trying to assure him. "come in, let me fix you up."
peter nods, letting you take care of him. "you sound tired," he points. "are you alright, love?"
"that question should be asked to you!" you reply. "okay, here, just sit in my bed, it's fine."
peter does as you say, "sorry about this," he waves his fingers at himself with a bitter laugh. "and also our lab work. sorry."
"it's fine," you say again as you wipe the blood off his face gently. "i've done the work, most of it. you can finish the rest."
"what?" peter asks wide eye. "i- i was supposed to do that with you!"
"pete, calm down. i will let you finish the rest here. you look terrible."
"huh," he breathes. "nothing too bad."
"are you sure you could still do the lab homework?" you say, worried.
"yes love i am capable," he puts on a convincing grin.
"okay..."
peter starts to do the work while you rub his back soothingly. "if you're tired, that's fine. take a nap in my room."
"no i'm not," peter scrunches his nose, eyes squeezing shut.
"okay..." you continue.
v. chocolate cups
that night, peter has asked you to go on a date. and you didn't have the heart to reject him in such state.
the way he smiles when you said yes can melt every butter in the world.
he planned to go to the new chocolate themed place. from the advertisements, it shows to be an ideal date place for a romantic relationship.
you waited there, on the front. waiting for him. you actually has hope this time of peter showing up.
the place was cute and warm. displaying an unreal scenery. you saw couples walking in and you smile at them discreetly. they looked incredibly happy and in love. you can't wait for peter to get here so you can have the same happiness as they do.
you stand there, in the middle of the porch. he is already thirty minutes late. you see pity looks sent to you by people around. but still had hope.
but as each second passes, your faith in him was fading. you didn't know if new york really hates you or it's just a coincidence that whenever you and peter were supposed to be on a date, the city will have something coming up.
you decide that your waiting was too long so you come home. it was humiliating to say the least. the way other people looks so happy while you were feeling crestfallen.
those pity looks didn't make anything better either.
although you understand peter, being spider-man is hard. you have to constantly push your personal life aside to save the whole city from dangers.
a part of you wishes he didn't push you aside like his other things.
vi. the one time
days after, when you are calmed down from that upsetting and humiliating day, peter told you about this dinner place that he was looking forward to trying.
he knows you love culinary and this was perfect for the both of you.
you agree to going there with him, making a promise to be there.
he promised whatever happens in the city, he's sure it's nothing the police can't control.
the day came and you we're fighting your own mind about going or not.
you believe in peter. he's your boyfriend. he does not break promises. but there's always something coming up in evenings like these.
there's always something avoiding you two to be together.
so with the conclusion, you stayed at home.
peter on the other hand was worrying on the table he rsvp-ed. not only you haven't arrived yet but also you weren't answering his calls.
the worst possible scenarios come to his head. clouding up his thought in a fog of bad dreams.
he does think that he deserves this. having the humiliating feeling of when your significant other didn't show up on a date, in a room full of tenths of people with their pitiful eyes.
he couldn't wait no more so he goes straight to your home, hoping that you were there.
it was raining heavily, his neat shirt that you had given was soaked. his hair is dirty with mud and dirt.
and you are. you were reading a book in the dim lit bedroom. he knocks on your window hastily, hoping that you can hear him outside in the rain.
"peter?" you spoke. making your way to your window, the sight that flashes before you was unexpected.
you didn't think peter would actually show up so saving your energy by staying at home and get 'sorry' messages were expected. but not this.
"peter what are you doing?"
"did you forgot?" peter asks sadly, shivering from the cold rain.
"about our dinner?"
"...yes."
"i just thought you wouldn't show up. and i don't want to be in a situation like our previous date plans," you admit, feeling guilty.
"we made a promise, didn't we?"
"yes, pete. i'm sorry. i'm just so tired of standing alone in a room. i'm not going to let that happen to me anymore. i thought something was going to come up because that's what happens in our date. every one of them."
"but we promised. you didn't trust me enough to keep my promise?" peter asks, heartbroken by the thought.
"no! that's not what i'm implying. you always put new york's happiness above mine and i just- i don't know. doesn't seem fair. new york has its own police, government, and what not but you are my boyfriend. my best friend. i miss being with you. like actually being with you."
"love, i didn't realise how much i've been pushing you aside for this city. and you're right. i am your boyfriend and i'm supposed to make you happy- not neglected. i'm sorry."
"yeah,"
"yeah, and from now on i will balance peter parker and spider-man. just call me if you need me, and i'll show you just how much i care about you. more than anything."
"even new york?"
"yes!" peter exclaims. "i guess we're even."
"no, you stood me up five times. and i only did it once!" you joke.
"well that's true," peter says bitterly.
"pete, i'm only joking. i'm happy you're here," you say.
"you told me you missed me. and i do too. so why don't we spend time together. like, right now?" peter suggests.
"yes we can."
"movies?"
"star wars marathon?"
"i'll get the snacks."
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literaila · 6 months
Note
hey v ! what about peter and reader getting ready to go somewhere and after reader puts on some red lipstick peter can't stop kissing her ?
lipstick
warnings: ugh, peter
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*
“how many times have you done that?”
peter is standing behind you, leaning against the wall, probably ruining your focus, or your makeup, or your sanity. he’s probably staring just to mess with you.
you refrain from smiling in the mirror. wipe a smudge with your nail. “i don’t know, peter,” you meet his eyes, and his nefarious smirk. “how many times have you watched me do it?”
“i got lost somewhere around the first time.”
you laugh at him, crumbling the napkin you’ve been using, now filled with kiss marks, and turning it around so you can throw it at peter. “are you sick?” you ask him.
instead of answering, he licks his lip and unfolds the napkin, staring at the red marks, creases and tireless efforts arranged in a messy pattern. “this is like art.”
“why are you acting like you’ve never seen anyone wear lipstick before?”
“what?” he asks, hand to his chest. “i cant watch you get ready? i’m banned from being in the bathroom when you are?”
“yes, and yes.”
it does not escape your notice when peter tucks the napkin into his pocket for safekeeping.
he shrugs. “i don’t mind breaking the rules.”
you scoff at him and pat his shoulder as you walk past him through the doorway. “i would’ve locked you out if i knew you were going to be weird about it.”
“weird? how am i being weird?”
“you were lurking. you’re still lurking.”
“i’m talking to my girlfriend. that’s part of our contract.”
“you’re following me.”
peter smiles. “well, i like you.”
you roll your eyes, almost—almost—smiling when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. “please don’t make me argue about your stalker like tendencies.”
“we don’t have to argue,” peter says, kissing the space beneath your ear. his breath is hot.
“i need to put my shoes on, peter.”
he smiles, his teeth clashing against your skin like a dreadful reminder. some type of jumpscare—minus the fact that you merely lean into him, sans jumping. “we can spare fifteen minutes.”
“how can you be thinking about anything besides the fact that we’re already late to meet may?”
he nibbles on the skin by your collarbone, then licks it, as reprieve. “it must be the lipstick.”
“you’ve literally seen me with lipstick before. i wore some on our first date.”
“‘s probably why i like it so much.”
his lips are needy as they crawl around your skin. his hands are stationary, but they pose their own threat as they lurk.
“peter, we have to go.”
“i’m not known for my punctuality,” he spins you around, his lips curled in mischief, “you know.”
“i’m aware.”
you refuse to indulge him. your brows furrow, your hands held in the air—just so you can avoid accidentally touching him. purposefully.
“then why are you so worried?” peter asks, kissing your cheek.
“i’m not kissing you,” you say, instead of answering.
“you’re not?” peter pouts like a child. he is far too grown.
“no.”
“how come?”
you try to pull away from him, but, shockingly, peter is stronger than you are. your will is weak. “you’re going to smudge my lipstick. i just finished.”
“you have more, don’t you?”
“not the point.”
“what?” he asks, his voice so serious and teasing. “you don’t want to kiss me?”
“no, i do not.”
you look away from him, admiring a wall that has always been there.
“are you sure?” peter asks, ducking so he can catch your eyes again, because he is nothing if not cruel.
you break, pouting. “peter,” you whine, “we’re not going to be late again.”
“i think we are.”
“you can kiss me when we get home later,” you promise, trying again to wiggle out of his grasp.
“that is a terrible compromise.”
“you won’t compromise,” you snap back. “what else am i supposed to do?”
peter grins, tilting his head. “okay. i have an idea. how about i kiss you, and then we leave? you don’t even have to kiss back, even though we’d both prefer it that way.”
“i’ll kiss you,” you mock him. “you’re the worst negotiator i’ve ever met.”
“then how come we haven’t left yet?”
you scowl at him, and he scowls back, but his eyes are alight.
your skin is ravenous with an ache to touch him, he’s so close that kissing him would be nothing—merely breathing, really—but you don’t want to lose this game to peter. and you dont want him to stop looking at you.
he pretends to check a watch. “hmm, it’s getting awfully late.”
“are you british all of the sudden?”
peter grins, biting his lip before he tries to bite you. you lean away. “if you like my accent, all you have to do is say so.”
“i like it when you get out of my way, and stop trying to sabotage me. i like that a lot.”
“no clue what you mean, dear.”
you roll your eyes and manage to cross your arms in his hold.
“i wonder how we could solve this,” peter muses, tapping his finger on your waist. “it’s a big problem.”
“i could leave you behind and have lunch with may myself.”
“that’s one option.”
you roll your eyes again.
“i was thinking something else, though,” peter says, and he’s closer now, but you’re sure that you never saw him move. “something more… proactive.”
“shove it, peter.”
“you don’t even want to hear it?”
you sigh, leaning your chest into him, out of pure delusion. “fine. what?”
peter smiles at you, eyes catching eyes.
the look on his face is soft, delirious. he’s got that look in his eyes, and that smile on his face, and he’s still staring at you like he’s mesmerized by whatever you’re doing.
“what?” you repeat, but softly, like you can’t find your voice in the chest cavity peters taken hold of.
“kiss me,” he says, softly, and it’s really not your fault that his lips are already brushing yours.
and it’s not your fault when you lean in, sighing in relief at the mere feel of him.
you’re almost breathless, from the tiniest of kisses.
but then you kiss peter again, and again, and your hands finally wrap around him—keeping hold of something real in this fake reality—and your voice isn’t your own when you groan at peter for making you do this.
you have evacuated your body. you have lost common sense.
but it doesn’t matter, because kissing peter has always made you forget all of that.
and it still does, when he pulls back, grinning like he’s won. “see?” he says, voice ragged. “it was simple.”
“we’re going to be late and it’s your fault.”
peter laughs, kissing you again, staring at your red lips. “gladly. i’ll take all the blame.”
“and you’re making it up to me later.”
“whatever you say,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip.
he releases you and watches as you finally put on your shoes.
you don’t think it necessary to mention the red marks on his lips. it’s not like it’s your fault they’re there.
*
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evsstolenhearts · 4 months
Text
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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
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madwcman · 2 months
Note
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.”
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blooming-violets · 12 days
Note
private #5 bent over a table while somethings baking in the oven. is it too much to ask for tasm peter parker bending reader over?
[location based smut prompts]
The To-Do List
[tasm peter x fem!reader]
(reader is described as having a ponytail that is long enough for Peter to wrap around his hand and use as leverage)
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His birthday cake was nestled happily inside the heated oven. 
She got up early to make it for his special day. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face while she had prepped and she was still in her pajamas from this morning. She had planned to have the cake in the oven, get her shower done, and place out his presents on the table all before he woke up. 
Peter, of course, had other ideas. 
He leaned against the kitchen doorway with a lopsided grin as he sleepily took in the sight of her. She paused when she saw him there, silent as ever, and crossed her arms. 
“You are not supposed to be awake for another hour,” she chastised. 
Thirty-five looked good on him. Every year he seemed to get more and more handsome. 
His eye wrinkles grew as his smile widened. A strand of dark hair fell down his forehead and he absentmindedly brushed it away. He was shirtless with nothing but a pair of dark boxers to keep him decent. 
She admired how defined his chest was. A hinting of his six pack was peeking out from just under the surface of his lean body. 
“I smelled cake.” His voice was thick and scratchy with lingering sleep. Peter’s morning voice was one the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard. 
She smiled as she rolled her eyes. It had hardly been in the oven for more than five minutes and it was already enough to get him out of bed. 
“The kitchen is a mess. I was going to clean it all up and have your presents out and I was going to be all dressed up and looking extra cute. You ruined it all with your stupid nose.” 
Peter laughed as he strode across the room to slip his arms around her waist. She looked up to admire him and wiped at a staining of toothpaste still clinging to the side of his lips. She caught it with her thumb and shoved it back into his mouth while he licked it off. 
“You already look extra cute,” he mumbled around her thumb. 
“I’m literally wearing your old, hole filled shirt and bright pink fluffy pants. This is not how I wanted you to see me this morning. It’s your birthday. I wanted it to be special.” She tugged her thumb back with a huff. 
Peter stepped back to appreciate her outfit in the morning light. She had already been in bed by the time he crawled through their window last night.
“I like it,” he stated. “It’s hipster.” 
She let out a laugh in response, “I don’t think you know what hipster means, babe.” 
Peter shrugged, “It means you dress like a bum, right?” 
“Oh my god, why don’t you go back to bed and try this again in an hour when everything is all set up, okay?” 
“No,” he whined. He latched himself onto her back, snaking his arms tightly around her stomach to press her against him. “I’m up. It’s my birthday. Say happy birthday to me and tell me you love me.” 
She grinned, snuggling back against his bare chest, “Happy birthday and I love you.” 
“That sounded insincere but I will take it.” His hand slipped up under her loose shirt to cup a warm hand over her breast, lazily palming it while he nibbled at the edge of her ear. He always liked the feeling of her nipple coming to life and growing harder against his hand. He held onto her chest like one might cling to the safety of a favorite stuffed animal. 
She groaned, “Your presents were supposed to be all set out nicely on the table. Instead you’re just greeted with a kitchen disaster of my cake baking. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep for another hour? I know you’re tired from last night. You were out late.” 
Peter began to slowly waddle them back and forth towards the kitchen table, refusing to release his grip from around her waist or remove his hand from her breast, “I know of a present I can unwrap right here…” 
She gasped under her breath, “Peter. This is no time. I’ve got a list of things to do.”
She felt him laugh quietly against her ear.
“Yeah and I’ve got a list of things to do, too. A whole list. Let’s see what the first thing to do is…” he pretended like he was reading off an imaginary piece of paper as he checked it over. “Ah, yes!” 
He slipped his hands out from her shirt and placed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the kitchen table. With a quick swoop, he tugged down both her pants and underwear, leaving them hanging around her ankles. She let out a shocked cry.
“Unwrap presents…check!” He chuckled to himself, giving her bare ass a soft slap. “And what a beautiful present it is. Couldn’t have asked for anything better. Wow, you really know me, baby, I’m super impressed.” 
“Peter,” she whined, pushing herself back up. “Not fair. I haven’t showered. I’ve got to get ready. I’ve-”
He cut her off with a kiss. His lips crashed against her and his tongue forced its way into her mouth to stop her from trying to protest further. She could taste the mint from his toothpaste still clinging to his tongue and she moaned as he pressed his hips into hers. He was growing harder by the second. 
“Shut up,” he mumbled against her lips with a smile. “My birthday. My rules.” 
“Okay,” she said with a dreamy sigh. It wasn’t hard to convince her. Her complaints were more for show than anything else. If Peter wanted her, he had her. “I love you, Pete.” 
“If you love me so much then why don’t you take off that shirt so I can see my second present.”
She did as she was told, stripping it from her body, until she was standing naked before him. The bulge in his boxers twitched which made her smile. She loved the fact that she could make him so hard from sight alone. 
Peter’s hand reached out to brush a calloused thumb across her hardened nipple, “Beautiful.”
He lifted her up onto the table so she was sitting closer to him and he moved between her legs. They wrapped around him so she could feel the heat of him soaking through his boxers and against her pussy. His eyes traveled down to her chest, taking in the sight, and sighing happily. His head dipped down so he could capture the waiting bud between his wet lips. 
She let out a satisfied moan and ran her fingers through the back of his hair while suckled on her. His tongue bathed her breast, teeth nipping at her nipple, and soothing it over with quick kisses and light sucking motions. His mouth was magic. He didn’t even need to touch her pussy for her to already be soaking through his boxers as she ground against him. 
“Feel that?” He groaned, bucking his hips. “Feel how hard I am?” 
She whimpered.
“All for you,” he whispered, finding her lips once more to kiss her deeply. 
All for her. 
It was his birthday. She should probably be getting down on his knees for him and sucking him off or tending to him in some way but she was nothing but putty in his hands. Lost in the feeling of seduction he was casting over her. 
Peter dragged her down off the table, smirking at the wet spot she had left behind, and spun her around. He folded her back in half over the table, scraping his nails down the length of her spine and over the swell of her ass. 
“The next thing on my to-do list,” he breathed, his voice low and deep. “Is you.”
She heard him discarding his boxers and suddenly felt the wet, hot tip of cock slide up her open folds. She was more than ready for him. He never had to do much to have her begging for more. Her hips grinded against the air as if trying to draw him in closer but he only continued to tease her with the tip.
“Someone’s eager,” he commended, giving her ass another slap. 
“Peter, please,” she gasped. 
He kept up his tantalizing torture. Every time his cock bumped over her aching clit, her hips would jerk backwards, and she’d let out a quiet cry.
“Please what?” He asked with an air of innocence. 
She groaned at his teasing, “Please fuck me! I want you to fuck me.”
“Aww,” he cooed. “Does my poor baby need my cock?” 
She whined and nodded. 
“You got up so early, didn’t you?” His nails dragged along her hips, making her squirm, as she humped frantically in an attempt to get at his cock. “You got up early to make my birthday so special. You baked me a cake. It smells amazing, doesn’t it? Smell it, baby.”
Her eyes widened in frustration, “Peter! Fuck me! Please, stop it.”
He ignored her pleas, getting off of them, as his cock twitched between her thighs, “Did you slip that cake into the oven just for me?”
She was nearly sobbing from her own arousal, ready to attack him if he didn’t shut up and fuck her soon. She arched her back to better entice him, wagging her ass and rubbing it against his hips. She pushed herself up with her arms so he could get a peeking view of her tits swaying in wait for him. 
That seemed to do the trick because he had gone silent as he stared.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Happy birthday to me.” 
“I want it hard, Peter. Use me,” she whispered in an effort to finally push him over the edge. “I’m yours.”
He lined up his cock to her entrance and eased himself inside. She nearly doubled over against the table at the delicious feeling that flooded through her body. 
“Yes, yes, thank you, baby, thank you,” she cried. 
“You really love this cock, don’t you?” He breathed. “Do you love this cock more than me?” 
“No, baby, never. I could never-”
He pulled out and rammed the full, thick length back into her with a loud slap. 
She shrieked, falling forward into a flurry of mumbled moans, “I do, I do, I do. I love it more than you. I love it more than anything.” Tears pricked in her eyes from the overwhelming sensations taking over. 
Peter chuckled to himself, “That’s my girl.”
Her ass slapped against his body with each plunging drive of his cock as he took her. Fast and hard, just like she asked. Every thrust felt like it was reverberating through her, waking up all her senses, making her feel more alive than ever before. It was sheer bliss. Anticipation already began to build. He knew exactly how hard to take her. Peter could be rough but he never went past her limits. He knew her inside and out. He knew just where to push her before retreating back to safety. The sounds of her tumbling moans and each inhale of breath was all he needed to direct his path. 
He was filling her body, stretching her, taking her, building her up to that beautiful place of divinity. Her nails clawed at the table, scratching at the wood, trying to find some kind of purchase to steady herself with. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Peter!” She cried. 
“That’s it, baby,” he panted. “I got you. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” 
He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and jerked her head upwards. She arched her back to accommodate the move as he held her against him. She could feel his ragged breaths against her cheek and listened to his erotic panting in her ear. The sound was enough to almost send her flying straight into an orgasm. 
The hand not keeping a tight hold of her ponytail wrapped around her to grab at her chest. He molded her breast between strong hands. 
She loved taking his cock. Loved it so deep. Thrusting. Hard. Stretching her. Forcing her to take him. Peter was thick. Thickest man she had ever been with. He pushed her walls to their max. His beautiful body and the sounds he made when he fucked her where like heaven to her ears. 
That familiar, sensual pressure began to grow inside of her with shallow waves lapping at the edges of her mind. Soon they would turn into giant swells. Taking her over until it was all she could feel. 
His hand slipped from her ponytail to wrap around her neck. He gave a gentle squeeze. Nothing too forceful but enough to send her flying even faster towards that tsunami of pleasure. She was so close. So ready. 
“Harder, Peter,” she sobbed. “Hard. Please. I’m-I’m…close…need it hard. Take me.” 
Peter was never to deny a request like that. He shoved her back over the table and tumbled on top of her, humping frantically with long, heavy strokes into her cunt. He could feel her walls tightening. He could feel her body changing. 
“Come on, baby,” he urged her. “Cum on my cock. Cum for me. Let me feel you.”
The universe exploded into blinding light. 
She didn’t care how loud she was. Didn’t care if the neighbors would hear. In fact, she wanted them to. She wanted them to know exactly how well Peter Parker could fuck his woman. 
Her toes curled and her legs kicked up as the sensory overload rocketed through her with golden waves of pure dopamine. 
Peter took her straight to the edge and held her there, spasming and sobbing, as he continued to fuck her through the orgasm. Even as the waves slowly receded, they still lingered in tiny aftershocks, due to his relentless pounding. He had gotten her where she needed to be and now it was his turn. 
He reangled himself into her, getting a better grip as he held onto her hips, and switched up his rhythm to slow. Peter liked to feel everything. He wanted to drag it out and feel her body wrapped around him. From fast and hard to slow and steady. His change of pace caused a low, drawn out moan to escape from her throat. 
“You like that, baby?” He panted. “You like feeling every inch of me?”
All she could do was whimper in response as her sex spasmed again around him. This was a man who knew how to lengthen an orgasm. She was completely helpless to him. Her body was his play thing. 
“Let me hear how much you love me, baby,” he whispered down in her ear as his cock buried straight to the hilt inside of her. “Let me hear you.”
She struggled to make any noise besides sobbing whimpers and broken cries. 
He moaned in response, “That’s it. Those are those sounds that I love so much. My poor baby, all ravaged on my cock. Can’t even speak.” 
He gave a small shudder and she knew he was close. She did her best to work her hips to meet his thrusts, squeezing him with her walls, sucking him in, clenching down. 
“That’s good, baby, that’s good.” He moaned, his voice slowly losing itself as he got closer to the edge. “Ooh, fuck, keep that up. ‘M gon’na cum inside ya’kay?” 
She loved it when he filled her. She loved feeling him drip down her leg as she carried him around with her. She would bathe in his semen if he wished it. It was his birthday, after all. The birthday boy could come wherever he pleased. 
His long, slow strokes worked her up as another, tiny orgasm rippled through her. That seemed to be all he needed to follow. 
Peter let out a low groan, his thrusts become more unrestrained with each passing second, and she took him. All of him. 
With the sweetest of cries, he emptied himself inside of her. She could feel him swell and pulse until she was impossibly full. That tiny orgasm grew into something much bigger, taking over her body along with him, as she felt him collapse on top of her, both shaking, as he bit at her shoulders with soft, love bites until he finally calmed down. 
He stayed like that, laid against her back and squishing her into the table, until he cock began to soften and he sadly slid back out. She tumbled back into his arms as they both fell to the spooning position against the kitchen floor. Naked, wet, and breathing heavily. 
Peter’s hand found the comfort of her breast once more. 
“Mmm,” he hummed. “Best present I could ask for. Thank you, baby. You’re too good to me.” 
She grunted in response, still finding words to fail her. Instead, she rolled over in his arms, hooking her leg through his, and leaving a trail of kisses across his face to show much she adored him.  
His eyes closed as he smiled happily at the feeling. 
Eventually she would have to get up. Eventually she would have to shower and get dressed and clean the kitchen and set up his presents and frost the cake…but for now…
For now she was happy to just lay here on the floor in his arms.
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