#TASM!Peter

[kaylasficrecs]

peter parker recs - part 3

you say the whole world's ending | imagine, angst | @vendettaparker

you more than anything | imagine, fluffy flangst | @nghtwngs

the script | one shot, angsty flangst | @waitimcomingtoo

fix you up | one shot, fluff | @im-sleepdeprived

boy in the bubble | one shot, flangst | @deathbyathousandspiders

no location found | one shot, flangst | @im-sleepdeprived

fearless | imagine, fluff | @lynnlovesspidahman

the last of the real ones | imagine, fluff (slight angst) | @negasonicteenagemess

crush | one shot, fluff | @webslingingslasher

little freak | one shot, flangst | @sattlersquarry

promises, promises | one shot, fluff | @murdockparker

things that look like nothing | one shot, flangst | @justapurrcat

what are my other options? | insomniac, one shot, flangst | @fullybooked

misinterprets his behavior | imagine, fluff (slight angst) | @luveline

a whistle on the wind | drabble, fluff | @moonstruckme

family planning | imagine, fluff | @luveline

breaking windows | one shot, fluff | @duskholland

places we won't talk | one shot, angst | @duskholland

the reveal | imagine, fluff | @cloudybarnes

i'll tell you in the morning | imagine, fluff | @literaila

a lesson in do-overs | one shot, angst | @literaila

an eternal sort of promise | series | @literaila

sticky | imagine, smut | @skywalkerslvt

[forever-rogue]

Ok, just got an idea of tasm.

What about a first introduction with May, like reader is so anxious about meeting her and when she finally does so she realizes May is so sweet with her 🥺

Aunt May being so sweet with Peter's girl just got me ✨😭

AN | No, but May is the best! She’d absolutely adore Peter’s girl❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A million thoughts were racing through your mind; unfortunately none of them were good. You were about to meet the most important woman in Peter’s life, beside you, and all you wanted was to make a good first impression. You had no clue what you would do if she didn’t like you. You’d probably be dumped and heartbroken. 

“Stop being stupid,” you groaned at your reflection as you fixed your hair. You wanted to look perfect without looking like you were trying too hard. Ugh. You were definitely overthinking this. It was supposed to be a simple dinner, not some sort of life changing event. But…it kind of was. For you anyway.

“Hey Bug,” you hadn’t heard Peter let himself into your apartment. When you looked up, you found leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as you met his gaze in the mirror, “you look beautiful.”

You relaxed at his words, letting out a soft sigh as you turned around to face, “are you sure? It’s not too much or not enough?”

“It’s perfect,” he took a few steps closer to you, “you could wear anything and it would be perfect.”

“Shut up,” you gently pushed at his chest but he didn’t budge, instead only softly laughed, “I’m nervous, Pete.”

“Don’t be nervous,” he cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “there’s no reason to worry. May is going to love you - she might even end up loving you more than me.”

“I hope she likes me at least a little bit,” you whispered, leaning into soft touch, “what if she doesn’t for some reason?”

“That’s impossible,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as you huffed at him, “trust me.”

“I do…mostly,” you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips, “but you know, the whole not telling me about the fact that you were Spider-Man doesn’t help your honesty credibility.”

“To be fair, Bug, I didn’t and wasn’t going to tell you,” you raised an eyebrow at him as his cheeks flushed lightly, “I mean, I was going to eventually…but you beat me to it.”

“You weren’t exactly subtle, Peter Parker,” you remembered the evening you discovered his alter ego like it was yesterday, “you came into the bedroom in the suit and bleeding profusely, remember? Or did you lose too much blood and forget?”

“I remember,” he mumbled softly. It was one of the first nights you’d stayed over at his apartment but duty had called; he left in the middle of the night while you slept soundly in his bed. He’d intended to be back and next to you in bed before you even woke up. Unfortunately it hadn’t happened that way at all, “it was…not how I planned on telling you.”

“Nevertheless, you lied to me…sort,” you waved your hand around before leaning against the counter with a heavy sigh, “so what you’re doing that to me now and you just know May will hate me?”

“I…” he paused for a moment, incredulous at your little theory as you pouted at him, “do you really think I’d do that?”

“No,” you sighed softly, your shoulders sinking as he pulled you into a hug, tucking you perfectly into his frame, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I just want this to go well, Pete.”

“It will,” he rubbed your back in soothing circles as you mumbled something against his chest, “it’s just May and me. Nothing is going to go wrong.”

“Fine,” you finally gave in as Peter chuckled softly, “let’s just go and do this.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You walked up the steps to May’s house, clutching on Peter’s hand tightly; if he was superhuman you might have even broken it. In your other hand was a bouquet of flowers that you’d picked up just for May. Your heart was beating so loudly you were positive that Peter could easily hear it. Once he knocked, you listened with bated breath for the door to be answered, trying to see if you could hear May coming.

And yet, it still took you by surprise when the door was gently opened and there stood May Parker, the woman, the myth, and the legend herself. She was a smaller woman but she had a giant presence about her; you could see how much Peter loved her just from the way his lit up, “Aunt May!”

“Peter,” he gently let go of your hand and wrapped her up in a giant hug that caused her to chuckle at him, “it’s good to see you, sweetheart.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek before shifting her gaze over to you. You half expected to see some sort of judgment, but in reality you saw nothing of the short. If you thought she softened for Peter, she was even more gentle with you. 

“Hi Mrs. Parker,” you held out the flowers to her, hoping you didn’t appear too intimidated, “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

She said your name, so warm and tenderly, before taking the flowers and pulling you into a hug as well. There must have been something in the Parker family that caused all of them to give the best hugs; Peter probably learned from her, “it’s so good to finally meet you. It feels like it’s been so long and Peter never shuts up about y-”

“Alright, alright,” Peter’s cheeks pinked as you looked at him with a huge grin. Your heart felt like it was going to burst with all the affection that you had for these two people, “let’s, ugh, get inside before it gets too cold.”

“Oh Peter, don’t get all shy,” May wrapped her arm around your shoulders before leading you inside, “I think it’s wonderful that you have some to love so much.”

You flashed him a grin over your shoulder as you stepped inside the Parker home; he was a very bright red that gave you enough pause to hang back and press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Peter, can you please put these beautiful flowers into some water for me,” the kitchen and the entire house smelled absolutely divine. You’d been told that she was a good cook and that almost made your mouth water in excitement, “dinner’s almost ready.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you couldn’t help as but cast curious eyes around the kitchen and dining area, looking at all the photos that were hung up and items that were displayed. A photograph of a young Peter caught your eye as you walked over to it and looked at it closer. He was super cute as a kid and you couldn’t help but wonder what your kids would like…you hoped that you’d get to find out one day, “oh my gosh, Pete! You were so precious!”

“Peter really was the cutest and sweetest boy,” May agreed as Peter looked mortified; he wished the floor would open up and swallowed him whole, “he was such a good boy.”

“Wonder what happened?” you teased as May laughed. Alright, you already liked her a lot. Your nerves were still there, but they weren’t nearly as bad as they had initially been. 

“Oh haha, you’re so funny,” he stuck his tongue out at you, before instinctively going to set the table. May had really raised him well, “one day I’ll get to see your old pictures and we’ll see how you like it.”

“It’s so fun to tease you,” you walked back into the kitchen to help May, “besides, maybe one day our kids will be that cute.”

It was no secret that Peter wanted a family one day, and you’d both agreed that you wanted at least one child together. Your comment definitely caused Peter to feel a certain type of way and his eyes grew wide as he looked at you. He was definitely going to hang onto this feeling later when it was just the two of you. May, meanwhile, made a small sound of agreement, “you two will have adorable kids, that’s a given.”

“Oh,” your entire face warmed up as you stole a glance at Peter. He looked a mixture of both excited and embarrassed, “well I guess we’ll just have to wait and see one day.”

That seemed to quell them both as your stomach exploded with butterflies. You knew that Peter would be a great father one day and were equally sure that May would be a wonderful grandmother. You felt lucky to have them in your lives; but then, you’d known that Peter would be something special to you from the day you met him.

May hummed in content as you helped her to finish dinner. She had such a warm and calming presence and you already loved being around her. It was easy to fall into a rhythm and pattern with her and before you knew it, the three of you were sitting around the table and eating dinner. She was an excellent cook and it was such a welcome thing to behold a home cooked meal. 

Afterwards when you were all stuffed, Peter helped May with a few things around the house while the two of you cleaned up. 

“You know,” her voice was tender and gentle as she dried the dishes that you had washed, “I haven’t seen Peter this happy in a long time. It makes me happy to see him doing so well. He deserves it.”

“He does,” you agreed softly, “he makes me really happy too. He’s a good man and I…I’ve never met anyone like him before. He’s special to me.”

“He’s always been a good boy,” she agreed, looking into the living room and finding him softly speaking to himself as he moved some furniture around for her, “it was hard for him, with what happened to poor Gwen, and it took a long time for him to be himself again. I was worried I’d lost my boy too, but slowly over time he got better. And then, when I noticed just how happy he seemed, he told me about you. Well, when he first met you, I should say.”

 “I met him and we were friends for a long time before we started dating,” you looked at her in confusion but she only responded with a knowing smile. You inhaled softly as you looked over at your boyfriend. He must have felt you looking at him because his gaze quickly shifted to yours and his entire face lit up, “oh. Oh.”

“Mhmm,” she put the last of the dishes away before giving your arm a small squeeze, “needless to say I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time.”

“Oh May,” you blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over before hugging her. In truth Parker fashion, she hugged you tightly and rubbed your back in soothing motions, “I’ve been so nervous and excited to meet you. Peter speaks so highly of you and I understand why. Thank you for being so kind and welcoming. Peter is amazing and he always says he owes it to you. I can understand why. You’re both great.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” she promised softly, “as far as I’m concerned you’re family, sweetheart. If you ever need anything or need me to have a word with him, just let me know, alright?”

“I will,” you beamed at her, “I will.”

“Hey May?” Peter walked into the kitchen sheepishly, “did you, umm, make dessert by chance?”

“Of course I did,” she tutted at him before exchanging a look with you, “I made your favorite.”

“Yes!” he kissed her cheeks, “you’re the best.”

“And don’t you forget it!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆��. ───

By the time you and Peter left May’s it was late; you hadn’t expected to be gone for so long but it was just so easy and fun to hang around with Peter and May. Peter held your hand, a knowing  little smile on his face as got into the cab to go back to your apartment. You, naturally, had a big tote full of leftovers to take with you. 

You’d fallen asleep next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He was reluctant to wake you up but he did so gently before scooping you into his arms and carrying you upstairs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tightly, burrowing your face into his chest. 

“That wasn’t so bad was it, Bug?” he asked as he set you down and bent over to help slip off your heels. You felt so incredibly warm and fuzzy at the sweet but simple gesture, “you lived.”

“Shut up, Parker,” you sighed gently as he pressed a kiss to your ankle before standing back and towering over you. You moved to take off his jacket and hung it up by the door, “I think you might be officially demoted to my second favorite Parker.”

“Wow,” he put his hand on his chest and sighed dramatically, “that’s hurtful baby. I should have known better than to introduce the two of you. My favorite women are ganging up against me already.”

“Never,” you reached for his hand and started to pull him towards your bedroom. You were tired and all you wanted was to cuddle up with him. He easily obliged, lacing his fingers through yours, “you’ll always be my favorite, Peter Parker.”

You quickly stripped off your clothes before tugging at Peter’s and getting him down to his boxers. You’d worry about your makeup and everything else later. Peter pulled you into his arms as soon as you were both lying down and under the covers.

“What am I your favorite of?” he whispered, causing goosebumps to raise up on your skin as he ghosted his fingers along your soft skin. 

“My favorite everything,” you replied as thought it was the most obvious thing in the world, “my favorite best friend, my favorite boyfriend, my favorite superhero…all of it.”

“You’re my favorite too,” he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, “in case that wasn’t obvious.”

“Hmmm,” you hummed in content, “will you stay tonight? No Spider-Man-ing?”

“Yes,” he gave you a gentle squeeze, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Unless it’s an emergency.” 

“Unless it’s an absolute emergency.”

“Good,” you horribly stifled a yawn before settling further into the pillows, “love you, spider-boy.”

“I love you too Bug.”

[bruisedboys]

peter parker and “is that my shirt?” prompt would be so cute!

congrats on 6k

thank u angel! hope u like this!! join the celebration

tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

Peter’s missed you so much he actually feels kind of sick. He’s practically buzzing as he unlocks the apartment door and lugs his suitcase inside.

“Angel?”

There’s a loud and very cute squeal from down the hall. Rapid footsteps, and then you appear in your pyjamas, beaming bright as the sun, looking like the prettiest thing Peter’s ever seen.

“Peter!” You squeal, a ball of excitement. “Baby. Oh my gosh.” You cross the room and throw your arms around his neck. Peter laughs, his chest flooding with warmth, and hugs you back twice as strong.

“Hi, honey,” he says, lovelorn. You smell amazing. You look like an angel. You’re squeezing him to death. He’s missed you so much he could cry. “Holy moly, I missed you so much.”

You giggle, turn your face into the side of his head and drag your nose along his jaw. “I missed you more,” you say, lips hot on his skin.

A shiver runs down Peter’s spine. He’s only had you back for a half a minute and you’ve already got him shivering? Typical. “Impossible,” he tell you. He runs his hands down your back and up again as if to prove to himself you’re really there.

You laugh and pull back, bouncing on your toes, to look him in the eye. You’re so, so beautiful. Somehow prettier than when he left you, which seemed impossible but apparently isn’t, not for you.

You reach up and push a lock of hair from his eyes. Peter’s hypnotised. He doesn’t get how one girl can be so achingly lovely, so pretty and so sweet, but you manage it. He slides his hands down to your waist, feeling like he might explode if he doesn’t touch every inch of you. It’s then that he recognises the familiar fabric of your shirt. He looks down.

“Hey, is that my shirt?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. He nudges you backwards with his hips to get a better look. It is his shirt. His favourite one, which he didn’t pack for his trip because it suspiciously went missing the day before he left. “It is!” He exclaims, pinching at your side. “You had it this whole time?”

You giggle at his prodding, and try twisting yourself out of the way. Peter keeps a firm grip on you, hand spread over your ribs, his glare full of accusatory heat.

“I’m sorry!” You say, giggling like an idiot when he pinches you some more. “I missed you, okay? Is that such a crime?”

Peter makes a face at you but his heart’s soaring. “Well, if you count theft as crime then yeah, I would say so.”

You huff. “You’re so dramatic!”

“I’m dramatic?” Peter feigns offence, pulling his head back incredulously. “You’re the one who stole my—!”

Your lips land on his before he can finish his sentence. His words are lost to your mouth. You push up into the kiss, fervent and hot. Your fingers curl into his collar and brush over the column of his throat, and Peter forgets everything else. He kisses you back just as hard, one arm hooked around your waist and the other bent between your chests to hold your jaw.

“Never mind,” he says between kisses. “You can keep the shirt, baby.”

You laugh against his mouth.

[sugugori]

Tough men who get whiny and pliant while just making out. What started off as sweet kisses here and there, turns into something much more primal. Him pulling you closer, getting more and more desperate and needy, doesn’t know where to put his hands. Bucking his hips and panting because he’s already close from a little tongue. Pulling little pitchy “mhm”’s from them and whispering quiet pleases. He’s got that glassy, far away look in his eyes and his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink. Just a few kisses from you turns him into a virgin again. And if you keep kissing his neck like that, he might cum in his pants - he’s so sensitive

[spiderfunkz]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[backtothefanfiction]

Professor Peter Parker

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

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

Word Count: 4.9k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SHIT!

DOUBLE SHIT!

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

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

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

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

8 HOURS EARLIER 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown. “Why Flower?” 

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

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

“Okay, then what can I call you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

________________________-

@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida

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

[amorchai]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐌!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒.

written for my old blog but never posted!

pairing(s): tasm!peter parker x reader

words: 926

warnings/tags: established relationship, r is implied to have a period – however, not ultimately gender specific.

it had been early evening, the sun setting across the horizon of new york, a faded orange hue emitting in the small apartment window of your kitchen as you stand by the stove. you’re scrolling through your phone, trying to relocate the recipe with your ingredients waiting by the countertop.

however, from the moment you pour water into the large pot atop the heating hob, you jump at the sound of a tapping window. turning your head, you’re met with the masked face of spider-man, a dorky wave sent your way.

leaving your things to the side, you wipe your hands across your apron before walking towards the tiny window to push open, allowing peter to stumble into the room. “hey, baby,” his adorable voice starting as he tugs the backpack from his shoulders to place on the wobbly kitchen table which tilts upon impact, “still need to fix that,” peter notes to himself while pulling his mask off.

his spikey hair flops in front of his eyes as he discards the mask to the side, facing you with open arms who smiles at him warmly with the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen. peter places a kiss on your head as you melt into his chest.

“thought i’d find you in here at this time.”

“you know me too well,” you reply, mumbled against peter’s chest. he smirks, hands trailing up and down your arms softly while looking over your head to the array of ingredients, “what’s for dinner tonight?”.

pulling away from him, you walk towards the kitchen counter and back to the food ready to cook, allowing peter to follow you like a lost-puppy, arms swivelling so he can cuddle you from behind.

“noodles with veg, going to make some curry sauce,” peter hums approvingly, against your head. “that time of the month?” asks peter, knowing they’re two of your comfort foods merged together.

“yeah.”

“well, perfect timing, because in that case…” peter trails off, arms dropping from your side and allowing you to start cutting some spring onion, curiously listening for him to continue.

usually on days like this, he would stop by your apartment before going on patrol, leaving a bag of fresh clothes to change into when he would return to your side for night-time cuddles. however, tonight he has a thicker bag containing more things.

“what’s that, pete?” you ask curiously when the shuffling from behind stops, you turn your head to catch a glimpse of his face. he holds up three books under his chin with his eyes squished into an innocent, happy smile to show off.

“got you these,” his voice a murmur as his gloved hands moves the books into a tower while returning to your side to show you. cheesy romantic stories, laced with fake dating tropes or colleagues to lovers because it became a tradition to both read the same cliché books and talk about the scenarios afterwards.

you knew while he got you these, it was partly because he loves those categories himself and knew it would be up for grabs once you’re done. plus, you had little space left around the house for your endless books, mainly bought with or by peter himself, feeding the addiction.

but ever since dating you, finding your love in books appeasing and was able to take the time he lost when becoming spider-man to start reading again. your favourite date with your spider-boy being reading days in the café or under a tree during a warm summer’s day.

“thank you but you know more than anyone that i don’t need more books, pete,” you giggle and glance up at his proud and giddy expression as he dismisses your comment to show you the cover to the second book. “this cover reminded me of you, i really liked the purple background and illustrated flowers, plus this is also fake dating!”

you watch the way peter gushes, unable to look at the covers as you mainly focus on his reaction to his gestures so sweet but he considers casual. “are they all fake dating?” you ask with a grin, peter checking the third book before meeting her eyes, flitting between each one with his dorky smile matching yours.

“yup,” a pop in the ‘p’ while he responds.

“do you sometimes wish that you fake dated me first before we fell in love?” you ask in a teasing tone, watching as peter leans closer, nudging your nose as he shakes his head lovingly. “you didn’t give me time to, by the time you spilled the coffee on me i was already head over heels,” you scrunch your eyes at his response before he continued, “which is the cliché romantic meeting i’m more than happy to claim, we’re our own romance book, baby.”

with a kiss upon your lips, peter begrudgingly moves away with a displeasing groan while placing the books beside his bag, “gotta go on patrol, i’ll be back later, ‘k?”. you nod with a smile, turning back to the counter but watching peter as he moves to the open window, mask in hand.

“i’ll leave you some food in the fridge.” you comment as he slides the mask back over his face, leaning out the window but willing to respond normally, “thank you, baby. i better come back to you asleep with one of your new books.”

“you bet. be safe, spidey.” you reply, watching as he gives you a thumbs up before shooting a web at the building across, shouting while he jumps, “love you, baby!”

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[reysdriver]

Creepy Crawlies & Nifty Neighbours | P.P.

You call your neighbour for help when you spot a spider in your kitchen — neighbour!peter x reader fluff

warnings: spiders (obvi) but nothing else

words: 0.7k

You held your phone against your cheek, listening to it dial anxiously. Thankfully, Peter picked up after the first ring. 

“Hey, I need your help with something.” You asked, your voice shaking. “Like, as soon as possible.”

He was sitting on the couch in his own apartment, but he shot up when he heard the tone of your voice. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m in my apartment.”

“So why are you calling me? Couldn’t you have just knocked on my door?”

“Physically, yes. But doing that would require me taking my eyes off of this giant spider, and I can’t let him run and hide somewhere else.”

Your neighbour relaxed once he realised that you weren’t in any danger, you were just being dramatic about a spider in your apartment. He still paused his movie and started walking towards the door, just not as quickly as he thought he would need to about ten seconds ago.

“So, you need me to kill a spider for you?” He asked amusedly.

“Or let it outside, whatever. I just need it away from me.” 

“I’ll be over in a second.”

And he was, although you couldn’t tell a second from an hour when you were stuck in this staring contest with the arachnid on your counter. Peter let himself in using the spare key you gave him just in case a while ago. That just in case instant was right now, in this horrifying scenario. 

He saw you looking intently across the room, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the intensity in your eyes. He followed your gaze to see what he was dealing with here, and wow— Even he had to admit that was a big bug right there. Was New York even home to spiders that huge? 

“That’s your enemy right there?” Peter questioned. 

You only nodded in response. Not wanting anything to distract you from the arachnid. 

“Alright, I’ll get him. Open a window, please.”

Once you were sure the bug couldn’t run away because Peter was watching it, you stood up and finally looked at your friend. He brought his own glass to trap the spider with. It was a sweet gesture since he knew you would be grossed out if you had to use your own glassware for this pest. 

You opened up the window leading out to the fire escape, since that was the only one that never creaked or got stuck, and Peter was just making his way over to you with the spider in the glass prison he was holding.

You moved aside so he could have all the room he needed, and Peter stretched his arms—his really nice arms—outside to shake the spider out. As soon as you both saw the bug fall and hit the metal grate floor, Peter pulled his hands back and you quickly shut the window so that the spider couldn’t get in again. 

A heavy exhale fell from your mouth, which Peter found amusing. 

“So, I take it you’re not a fan of spiders?”

You shook your head and shuddered dramatically. “Absolutely not. Hate ‘em.”

“Not even the cute ones?”

“There are no cute ones! They’re only tolerable if they’re far away from me, definitely not in my apartment.”

Peter laughed at you, and even though you were being serious, you couldn’t help but crack up along with him.

“What are you laughing at?” You defended. “Everyone hates spiders, they’re terrifying!”

Peter’s chuckles subsided slowly. “I’m not arguing with you, don’t worry. They’re freaks, aren’t they?”

“Exactly. Thanks for saving me.”

“Anytime.” He said sincerely. “I’ll be your own personal superhero.”

“Like that Spider-Man guy!”

Peter shook his head and shrugged like he had no idea who you were talking about. That seemed impossible to you, since the masked vigilante of Queens was a topic everyone was talking about these days. 

“You’ve never heard of Spider-Man?” You asked, shocked at him.

He muttered a ‘nope’ and shook his head once more. 

“You have to look him up, it’s crazy stuff. He’s on the news all the time, stopping bad guys all over the city. It’s super cool.”

“I’ll have to check it out. Need my help with anything else?”

“No, that was all.” You smiled. “Thanks again, Spider-Man.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, then started making his way over to your front door. “Call me if you need any more saving!”

[moonstruckme]

Hello my darling

I have returned with another Peter Parker request🤭

Imagine Peter and reader are really good friends (they've known each other since they were little) and Peter just looks over at reader one day and realizes he's in love with her. It just hits him suddenly

Thank youuu

-🔮

Thanks for requesting lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 801 words

Peter whistles as you open the front door, craning his neck to look behind you at your half-decorated apartment. “First solo place,” he says, kicking off his shoes. “Not bad, not bad.” 

“For the rent? I think you mean to say excellent,” you correct him, moving into the kitchen. “You wish you had an apartment as sick as this, Parker.” 

Peter laughs, taking in the tiny kitchen, the fortunate south-facing windows spilling light across the space. “I just wish I had an apartment,” he agrees.

Your hum is half amusement, half apology. “I was about to have lunch,” you tell him, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Want something?”

“Sure,” Peter says, “I’ll have whatever you’re having.” 

You laugh. “I’m having peanut butter with honey and banana, I know you don’t want in on that.” 

Peter wrinkles his nose. Your sweet tooth never ceases to amaze him. “Freak.” 

You turn on the stove, unphased by his disgust. “I can make you a grilled cheese,” you offer. 

He leans his elbows on the counter, raising his eyebrows at you. “You’re stocking cheese? You hate cheese.” 

“No way, I totally forgot.” You’re both sardonic and fond as you roll your eyes, ducking into the fridge and emerging a moment later with a slice of cheese. “I knew you’d be here and hungry eventually.” 

That’s more touching than it has any right to be. 

“Good forethought,” Peter says, casually as he can. “Yeah, grill me a cheese, sweetheart.” 

You nod, smoothing butter over two slices of bread in easy habit, placing one in the pan to sizzle and making the sandwich on top of it. While the cheese melts, you get started on your own monstrosity, reaching up into the cabinet for the peanut butter. The honey’s on a higher shelf, and you seem to consider it for a moment before gripping the fridge for balance and hauling yourself up onto the counter. 

“Whoa, don’t do that,” Peter says, hurrying into the kitchen to help.

“I’ve got it,” you argue, but you’re already precarious, leaning back to open the cabinet further and nearly slipping off the edge of the counter in your socks. Peter sets a hand on either side of your waist.

“No, what am I here for?” He encourages you off the ledge, waiting until you’ve got your feet under you before letting you go. 

“You can’t be my permanent solution, though,” you laugh, taking the honey from him when he passes it down to you. “I’ll have to figure it out eventually.” 

“Then you should have thought ahead and picked a place without high shelves,” Peter chides, taking over grilled cheese duties while you cut up your banana. “Now you’ll just have to call me over anytime you want something. It’s the only way.” 

You shoot him a look that’s clearly intended to be mean, but you can’t manage it, the corners of your lips twitching mutinously. Peter bumps you with his hip to let you know he sees, and your smile comes out in full force, squishing your eyes and showing off the dimple in your one cheek. Even your nose gets in on the action, wrinkling slightly at the bridge when you let out a little laugh. 

That laugh echoes in your tiny kitchen, and something happens in Peter’s chest. His heart twinges. It almost hurts, but there’s an odd pleasantness to it. His body feels too small for this hugeness, this incandescent, aching fondness that feels like it should be visibly glowing inside him. 

You bend over your work, and Peter’s struck with the loveliness of you. You’ve always been pretty—Peter’s not blind, he’s noticed it over the years—but this is different. You’re…he feels different.

“Whoa,” your voice is soft, chiding but not really as you nudge him aside, taking a spatula from beside the stove and flipping his sandwich. “Jesus, Pete, I’d have thought you’d be more practiced at this. Too used to me doing it for you?”

Peter blinks down at the pan. The slice of bread you’ve flipped over is nearly black. 

“Hey.” You look up at him, eyes wide and wavering between bemusement and concern. Pretty. Peter can just barely see the faint remains of your summer freckles under each eye, faded after months spent indoors. They’ll come back in the spring, just like they have every year since you were kids. Like you’re synched with the flowering trees. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Not really. He feels like he’s been hit by a truck. “Yeah, uh, you want me to grab us something to drink?”

“Sure. Water’s in the fridge, I’ll get cups.” 

Peter digs through your fridge until he gets to the water, emerging to find you crawling back up onto the counter, reaching for cups on the top shelf. 

“Jesus Christ.”

[headkiss]

Peter standing up as a groomsmen for someone's wedding and he sees reader in the audience tearing up and he mouthes I love you to her 😭🫶🏾🥺

peter is such a loverboy </333 thank u for requesting this is a short and sweet one!

Weddings have always made you emotional. They’re a beautiful thing, especially when they’re people you know.

And somehow, now that you’re in love yourself, they get you even more. Peter stands on the groom's side, his suit crisp and hugging him perfectly. He looks as pretty as ever.

You’re sitting a couple of rows back with the rest of the guests, and though you’re meant to be watching the couple that’s saying their vows right then, your eyes keep flicking over to Peter.

Listening to the words the couple says, the happiness and the watery laughs, your eyes well up pretty quick. As if he can sense it, Peter’s eyes meet yours in the crowd, and he huffs a small laugh when he notices you trying to fan away your tears.

He shakes his head at you with a wide smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Looking at him up there, it makes everything even more special. Because you know what it’s like to love someone that way. To want to shout it out to anyone who’s listening. To know that you’re loved the exact same way.

Peter’s done that for you.

You wipe the first tear that falls down your cheek quickly, glancing up to the sky to try and reign it in. When you look back, Peter’s still looking at you.

‘Stop,’ you mouth at him, like he’s the one making you cry these tears of joy and overwhelming emotion.

He just shakes his head again. Then, his lips move, shaping the words ‘I love you.’

Just like that, as the couple says they do and you mouth the three words right back to Peter, another tear falls down your cheek.

When the couple walks down the aisle, hands clasped and smiles stretching their faces, you stand with the crowd, clapping for them. Peter finds you quickly, pulling the handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbing your tears away for you.

“You’re a wedding crier,” he says, a hand pinching your chin gently to keep your face tilted to his, the other wiping away the small mascara smudges under your eyes.

“I can't help it. It’s so sweet.”

He dips down to kiss your cheek, then your mouth. It’s quick but it tells you enough.

“I love you, bug. Wedding tears and all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you push his hair off his forehead. “I love you, too.”

Yeah, it’s nice to be loved enough that you’d never question it, that the words come easier each time.

[asterias-record-shop]

moan our name (p.p. (t.h.) & p.p. (a.g.))

(No forgotten memories, Peter 1 isn’t with MJ, Peter 3 is with you, never got with Gwen — in Peter 1’s world you’re this college girl he has a crush on.) When experimenting with a Sling Ring you found with your boyfriend, you couldn’t believe it when you both fell into a portal in another Spider-Man’s room. — 1.3k words

“Babe, I thought you said you weren’t going to keep messing with that thing?”

Peter was concerned for you, mainly because he was worried about your safety. He really didn’t want you to fall through a portal with no way to get home like he did.

“I’m just trying…” you muttered, humming softly as you attached a clip to it. “To see if it’s a conductor.”

Peter snorted as he came behind you, letting his arms wrap around your torso, softly pressing kisses to your temple. “Why do you need it as a conductor, baby?”

“To see if I can put its powers into something like a bracelet or something,” you muttered in response, heavily focused until it blitzed slightly. You gasped when it did so, and Peter jumped slightly as flickers of gold started to pour out through the ring, proceeding to sink down into some sort of ring-like portal.

“Son of a bit-”

Peter didn’t get to finish before you both fell down what seemed to be a portal like when Peter fell through one a few months ago and helped save another universe. Peter quickly uses his powers to shoot a web at you, pulling you into his chest and twisting so he makes impact with the floor instead of you.

He grunted as you looked around, inhaling as you sat up in his lap, letting your eyes trail the posters in the high apartment that seemed as though it cost more than all of Peter’s lab. “Where are we?”

Peter looks around, sighing thankfully. “Oh thank fuck.”

“What? Peter, where are we?” You asked as you slowly stood up, helping your boyfriend up as he softly kissed your head.

“We’re on the other Peter’s earth,” he mumbled into your hair, thankful that you were okay. “Remember I told you about him?”

You swallowed, about to nod before someone yelled.

“Peter 3!”

Your boyfriend pulled away, smiling when he saw the other brunette. “Peter 1!”

He was about to give your boyfriend a hug before he noticed you, his face immediately flushing. “Y/N?!”

Peter 3 paused, looking from Peter 1 from you to Peter. “You have a Y/N here?”

Peter 1 swallowed, nodding — he had literally just got off to the thought of you. Well, his you.

“Oh, you’re Peter 1!” You said as you stepped forward, offering your hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you! My Peter has told me all about you.”

Your Peter grinned when you called him ‘my Peter,’ watching as you stepped forward to greet the other Peter. Still, Peter 1 was shocked when you touched him, the firm shake of your hand making his jaw go slack.

“This must be Tony Stark’s empire you took over,” your Peter said as you stepped back, face scrunching slightly.

“Who’s Tony Stark?”

“His… dad, I believe,” your Peter said as you looked around. “We don’t have a Tony Stark. Or, a famous one at least.”

“Wait! Do they have Goblin?” You asked as you turned around, almost as though you needed to prepare before your Peter laughed as he walked over to you.

“You don’t have to worry, baby,” he whispered, softly kissing your lips as Peter 1 looked away, putting his hand over his groin area to try and hide himself from getting hard again. Your Peter noticed this, smiling as he pulled away and looked over at Peter 1.

“You mind if we crash here? Until we figure out how to get back,” he hummed as he softly brushed his hand down your back. “My darling girl was trying to put the ring’s power into some bracelets.”

Peter 1 nodded frantically. “Y-Yeah, of course,” he whispered, swallowing. “I’ll call Dr. Strange so he can get you both back.”

Your Peter grinned as you yawned into his chest. “Thanks, kid.”

Peter 1 was upset. Very upset.

For one, you were even nicer than he could ever imagine – and he hated it.

For two, you both were stuck here until the wall between the worlds were thin enough again.

For three, the walls in the Stark Tower were thin with his enhanced hearings. Very, very thin. So much so that he was jacking himself off everytime you both had sex, just like he was doing right now.

He knew you were on your third orgasm. Peter 3 had barely just came, and you were about to cum, but Peter 3 knew just what he was doing.

“Come on baby, come on… moan my name, moan my name baby,” he groaned, the squelching of your pussy bouncing off the walls. He could only imagine how wet you were, the wet thrusts matching his pace of Peter 1 pumping his cock.

He had came just as many times as you had, mainly because he was so desperate to fuck you. What kind of coincidence was it that Peter 3 and you were together?

The thought made him pump his fist faster. He couldn’t stop, he was so so desperate to feel you.

“P-Peter, Peter!” You wailed, sobbing as you threw your head back, the bed continuing to slam into the wall. “I-I’m going to cum!”

Your Peter laughed. “Aw baby, you’re such a good girl… keep moaning my name, moan our name…”

That made Peter 1s eyes fly open.

Oh, he truly knew what he was doing.

It didn’t take Peter 1 long to get up, not even covering his cock as he walked through the halls and banged on the door.

“Ah, took him long enough, my darling…”

“Fuck you!” Peter 1 yelled, not even waiting for Peter 3 to open the door because he knew damn well he wouldn’t pull out of you – because Peter 1 wouldn’t either – stepping inside and stripping his clothes.

“W-We had a bet,” you giggled tiredly, inhaling. “Peter already stretched me out from behind.”

So that’s where he was fucking you earlier.

And so, Peter 1 wasted no time walking toward the bed before your Peter fixed the position of both of you, pulling you into his lap, spreading your legs with his thighs. “Like hell I was going to let you fuck her pretty cunt.”

To be completely honest, Peter 1 would take whatever he could get.

So he kneeled behind you, slowly steadying himself before snapping his hips forward to push into your ass. A loud wail left your lips, your teasing finally biting you in the ass as both Peter’s slowly started to fuck into you in sync.

Peter 1s thrusts were a lot more unsteady, almost as though he was still questioning what was going on, but your Peter’s thrusts were strong and rough.

He looked so pretty under you, sweat dripping down his temple as Peter 1 slowly fucked you from behind, moaning loudly as he kissed your shoulder blade. He was starting to get rougher, and the fact that two men were fucking you at now very different paces made your mind blur as their hands roam your body.

At this point, you truly were just a toy for them – and they were determined to use you like that.

“Come on baby, does it feel too good that you’re silent? Huh? Make some fucking noise,” your Peter basically snarled as his teeth graze your jaw, but that’s truly what you were feeling – you felt so good that you could barely make any noise, only with your mouth agape.

A soft sob fell from your mouth as you finally gave into your pleasure, your mouth wide open as you started to groan loudly. Your stomach felt like it was being penetrated, but it didn’t hurt at all, or you didn’t register that it was hurting.

Their hands squeezed and groped your body, their lips kissing every inch of your skin as you let out another sob. “Fuck, fuck! I-I gotta cum, I need to cum, please let me cum!”

Both Peters basically laughed in unison, a groan falling from your Peter's lips.

“Cum. We have until that portal gets figured out to fuck you.”

I do not ever give consent to my work being published on other platforms or being translated at any point, even if it is a request. If my work is on any other platform, it’s without my permission. Your media consumption is not my responsiblity.

© asterias-record-shop

[kaylasficrecs]

peter parker recs - part 2

shy frat!peter | au, imagine, fluff | @webslingingslasher

baby me | tasm, drabble, fluff | @p3terparker

twenty-bucks | imagine, flangst | @deathbyathousandspiders

likes having you close | imagine, fluff | @sacharinee

hospital heart monitor | imagine, fluff (bit of angst) | @parkerpeter24

no need to hide it | one shot, flangst (more fluff) | @spider-man-199999

best friends couch cuddles | two shot, fluff | @deathbyathousandspiders

stacked against you | tasm, imagine, fluff | @wokeupinmars

meeting at the grave | imagine, flangst (more angst) | @electrosspidey

apologies | imagine, flangst | @bruh--wtf

hurt | one shot, flangst | @just-jordie-things

so cold | one shot, flangst | @just-jordie-things

i'll keep your brittle heart warm | au, imagine, fluff | @darling-im-wonderstruck

open arms | tasm, drabble, fluff | @wokeupinmars

only you | imagine, flangst | @ivyquill

you're a very good kisser | drabble, fluff | @ddejavvu

reader thinks she's ugly | imagine, flangst | @selfcarecap

just so you know | imagine, fluff | @literaila

eventually | imagine, angst | @peterthepark

chilly | imagine, fluff | @presleyluvschris

2:54 am | tasm, one shot, soft flangst | @likedovesinthewindd

where'd you get your medical degree | tasm, imagine, fluff | @literaila

soothing | insomniac, drabble, flangst, comfort | @multi-fandom-imagine

i'll be right there, sweetheart | tasm, imagine, flangst | @urrockstar-xe

mastermind | imagine, fluff | @moonstruckme

the mechanics of a soul | imagine, fluff | @irndad

two normal arms | one shot, fluff | @waitimcomingtoo

angel unaware | one shot, trifecta (fluff/smut/angst) | @silkscream

making out for hours | drabble, fluff | @ptergwen

physics and english teacher love affair | insomniac, imagine, fluff | @certifiedlovergirlsstuff

azalea | two shot, flangst | @writings-of-a-hufflepuff

spidey senses | one shot, flangst | @forever-rogue

not so innocent | imagine, fluff | @spider-quackson

far from home, far from you | one shot, flangst (more angst) | @neverlandparker

your kiss, my check | au, imagine, flangst | @hollandweather

shy shy shy | tasm, imagine, fluff | @biblio-smia

identity crisis | one shot, fluff | @heliads

kissing reader any chance he gets | tasm, drabble, fluff | @madwcman

just hold me | drabble, flangst, comfort | @oneawkwardwriter

snap | imagine, flangst | @tomholland1996simp

it's supposed to be fun, turning 21 | imagine, flangst | @loverwebs

only you | imagine, flangst | @devotion

i can see you | one shot, fluff | @waitimcomingtoo

peter thinks he's slick | imagine, fluff | @weird-is-life

night in | imagine, fluff | @blissfulparker

come home | tasm, imagine, flangst (more angst) | @dameronology

worth it | drabble, fluff | @miley1442111

come in with the rain | one shot, flangst | @pasukiyo

be here for her | au, imagine, angst, comfort | @lovelettersforthedamned (tw)

promise | imagine, flangst | @deathofacupid (tw)

[forever-rogue]

TASM!Peter thought I cannot get out of my head for the life of me: Reader pestering him about him and his weird spider abilities like Ned in the MCU movies, but he’s just so loving and patient because he knows he’s weird and she’s naturally curious

AN | Imagine finding out your boyfriend is Spider-Man. It’s going to leave you with a lot of questions, isn’t it?❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | mild language

Word Count | 2.8k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Peter?”

“This isn’t what it-”

“No way!”

“Babe, this is not. I”m not-”

“Holy fuck.”

“Please, you’re dreaming. I’m not actually-”

“Spider-Man,” you blinked a few times and scrubbed at your eyes just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. But when you looked back at your boyfriend he was still standing there, halfway between the window and bathroom, mask in hand and spandex still covering his body. He looked entirely mortified at having been caught, “Peter.”

“Honey, it’s not…I…” he hung his head and let out a long sigh, annoyed with himself for being so careless, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re Spider-Man,” it was all setting in and you weren’t quite sure how to feel; it was a wild mixture of excitement and annoyance and worry and love - everything all at once, “I…you never told me. We’ve been together for almost three years.”

“I know, sweetheart…it was just better than way,” he tossed the mask onto the couch and took a few steps closer to you. You tensed up and shook your head, “I just wanted to keep you safe. That’s all.”

“You lied to me,” you pouted at him and that was enough to break his heart. If there was anything he hated in the world, it was seeing you upset, “for years.”

“I didn’t lie,” he tried softly but you huffed at him, “purposely. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. Everything I do is to protect you.”

“I feel so stupid,” you scrubbed a hand over your tired face in exasperation. All the weird quirks and odd comings and goings seemed to make sense. It felt almost silly that you hadn’t put the pieces together before. Peter wasn’t exactly subtle, “all this time. The random bruises and cuts…the times you suddenly have to leave - your weird schedule. It seems so obvious, doesn’t it? I…Peter Parker.”

“Baby-”

“You’re trying to keep me safe but what about you?” a deep frown settle on your features and Peter shook his head, trying to keep you from going down that particular train of thought, “oh my god. Anything could happen to you! And what if…if something did happen, how would I know?”

Peter gently shushed you, his strong hands settling on your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze. You looked at him, studying his big honey brown eyes and tried to keep the tears in your own eyes from spilling over, “nothing is going to happen to me, I swear it. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“It isn’t funny,” you sniffled as a few tears ran down your cheeks, quickly and tenderly wiped away by Peter, “I love you, you dumb bug. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” he whispered, brushing his knuckles along your cheek, “you know why?”

“Why?” you huffed softly, reaching for his hand and bringing it to your lips so you could press a kiss to it.

“Because I have to get home to you,” he smiled softly, looking more boyish than anything. You exhaled slowly but nodded, “I’m always going to come home to you. There’s nothing I want more.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he agreed and you allowed yourself to relax slightly, “by the way, spiders aren’t bugs. Spiders are spiders…well arachnids but they’re a completely separate thing.”

“Fine, you big dumb spider,” you let out a small laugh before playfully rolling your eyes, “you’re just lucky you look in spandex.”

“Yeah?” he teased, turning in a circle and striking a pose, “you think?”

“Shut up,” you groaned as he laughed, “just come to bed with me. But just so you know, this conversation isn’t over.”

“I would expect nothing less, love.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It took some time to get used to the idea of Peter, your sweet, nerdy, wonderful boyfriend, being Spider-Man. He just never seemed capable of something like that but when you really thought about it, it all made sense. Peter was brilliant and had a kind soul; him helping people just went hand in hand with who he was. 

You weren’t sure if you’d ever get over your worries that something would happen to him - just like he wanted to protect you, you wanted to protect him. That, however, didn’t negate the fact that you had numerous questions for him. You wanted to know everything you could about him well, his spider abilities rather. 

You were curious, luckily Peter loved that curiosity. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Where do your webs come from?” you’d been wrapped up in the book you were reading but the question suddenly hit. Peter was sitting across the couch from you, doing some work on his laptop. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, causing your face to warm up, “I just…you have webby stuff, right? Like…where does it come from?”

“Web shooters,” he answered simply, closing his laptop with a soft laugh and giving you his full attention, “it doesn’t come out of my body, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But spiders have it-”

“Not a spider,” he reminded you as you closed your book and tossed it on the coffee table, “human-spider hybrid. Kind of. I think that’s what you’d call it.”

“Why don’t they call you Human-Spider-Hybrid-Man?” you made a small sound of surprise as Peter reached over and gently maneuvered you onto his lap. His large hands settled on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “wouldn’t that be more accurate?”

“You’re overthinking it,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I don’t make it in my body. I make it at the lab.”

“My genius Human-Spider-Hybrid,” you grinned at him and he couldn’t help but return the smile. To say he adored you was putting it lightly, “will you show me sometime? I wanna see it in action.”

He cocked his head to the side as he let go of your waist and held his arms up. You looked at him in confusion and he pulled back the sleeves of his sweater, “they’re right here.”

“Oh,” you reached for one of his arms and looked over the small band around his wrist, “oh? I always thought they were just…bracelets.”

“That’s the point,” he said as you made a small sound of revelation. You held his hand in yours and gave it a tight squeeze, “it’s really not that exciting.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” how could he think being Spider-Man wasn’t exciting? You took his face gently in your hands as you studied the pretty boy, “you are always fascinating and exciting to me.”

“That’s because you love me,” he put his hands on top of yours and give them a squeeze, “you’re biased.”

“I do love you - very much,” you agreed, “but I’d still think the same regardless, Peter Parker.”

He paused before nodding slightly, “I love you too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter could feel you watching him, despite your best efforts to remain subtle. It should be noted, however, that your best efforts were pitiful; you might have been openly gawking at him. He stopped what he was doing and turned to you with a small little smirk on his features, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“That’s your area of expertise not mine, Parker,” you weren’t going to bother denying that he’d caught you. You walked over to the kitchen and hopped onto the counter, swinging your legs back and forth as you watched him finish putting away the dishes, “but you make a pretty picture.”

“And yet still not nearly as beautiful as you,” he put the last mug into the cabinet before turning on his heel and pressing a kiss to your cheek, “why were you watching me like a creepo, huh?”

“I wasn’t watching you! Not like a creepo,” your cheeks warmed up as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek, “I was just…admiring.”

“Uh huh,” he teased, settling his arms on the counter and caging you in, “ admiring. You’re cute. Now tell me what you’re really thinking about.”

“It’s stupid,” you offered him a sheepish smile but Peter just tutted at you before nudging his nose against yours, “promise not to laugh?”

“I promise,” he whispered sweetly, “you know you can tell me anything.”

“It’s a question,” you paused for a moment, “are you like super, super strong? ‘Cause aren’t spiders like proportionally strong?”

Peter leaned back and laughed softly, causing you to gently shove his shoulder. Not that it would matter - he was basically unmoveable. He grabbed your hand and laced his fingers through yours before you could say anything, “sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to laugh - I’m a horrible, terrible liar. It’s just…you’re precious.”

“Shut up,” you couldn’t deny that inside you were beaming from his praise, “I am not precious! Just curious.”

“I’m pretty strong,” he explained softly as you nodded, “maybe not the strongest being in the galaxy but its up there. I can show you sometime.”

“That’s why you can move things so easily,” it made sense now, why he never seemed to have an issue with moving the furniture or carrying in all the groceries at once, “wow. You’re amazing. The Amazing Spider-Man.”

“Not amazing,” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you off the counter, easily and effortlessly holding you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and looped your arms around his neck, “just basically a mutant freak.”

“You’re my mutant freak,” you buried your face in his chest, but not before pressing a kiss to his neck, “that I love, very much.”

“The mutant freak loves you very much too,” you could feel the laughter rumble in his chest as you allowed yourself to melt into him, “curious girl.”

“Can’t blame me,” he could feel you grinning against his skin, “not everyday you find out boyfriend is Spider-Man.”

“True,” he agreed, “I’d be pretty shocked if I found out my boyfriend was Spider-Man.”

“Peter!” this time you were laughing too as he started to walk you both down the hall towards the bedroom, “where are we going?”

“Bedroom,” he rasped, “I can show you how strong I am.”

“Oh,” you felt your entire body warm up, “yes please.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late at night, but you weren't feeling too tired just yet. You were in bed, staring at the ceiling and deep in thought as Peter laid next to you reading. You liked listening to him make some small sounds as he read and the sounds of the pages turning.

“I'm not a mind reader but you're thinking much too loudly,” Peter stole a quick glance at you, causing you to scoff loudly as you rolled onto your side so your back was to him, “honey.”

“Mind your business, Parker,” you burrowed further into your pillow, “I was just staring at the ceiling.”

“Hmm,” he mused softly, “what's your silly question of the day?”

“Excuse- first of all, my questions aren't silly,” you sat up right and crossed your arms over your chest, “and secondly, you're Spider-Man! I have a million questions. Don't be a jerk.”

“I am not,” he insisted through a few giggles as you smacked him with a pillow. You knew that you'd never hurt him which just made the situation all that much more ridiculous, “I love your curiosity. I love all the little things that cross your mind.”

“Now you're just pitying me,” Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled in between his legs so the the two of you were facing one another. He put his large hands on your calves and gave them a gentle squeeze, “Pete.”

“I love you, you know?” He asked softly as you nodded. If there was anything you knew in the world it was that Peter Parker adored you to no end. But then, you loved him just ask much, “you never gotta worry about asking me anything. So come on baby, tell me.”

“Fine. Fine,” you groaned softly before mumbling your question to him, “can you like stick to walls and stuff?”

You'd said it so quickly and fast that Peter hadn't caught what you were saying, “pardon?”

“Ugh,” you huffed, “do you have the ability to crawl on the walls and ceiling like real spiders? Or is something your weird mutant DNA didn't get.”

Peter tried his best not to laugh but he could barely stop the corners of his mouth from quirking up, “yeah, babe, that is something I can do.”

“Whoa,” you watched as Peter stuck his hand to the wall and showed you how it stuck, “that's so cool. Kinda gross but cool.”

“It's definitely gotten me out of a few scrapes before,” he admitted, “I'll take you for a ceiling walk some time.”

Your face lit up with pure excitement before your brows furrowed in confusion, “will our kids have your spidey thingies? What did you call it the other day? Spidey senses?”

Peter had stopped processing anything you were saying as soon as he’d heard our kids. It had stocked something deep within him. He only came back to reality when he felt you tickling his side, “our kids? What do you mean our kids?”

“Oh,” your cheeks warmed up as you bit your lips and shrugged lightly, “I dunno, I just think about it sometimes. You know, one day we’ll have kids. We’ve always talked about that. Unless…you changed your mind?”

“No!” he said much too quickly as a small smile tugged up the corners of your mouth, “I haven’t changed my mind. I-I want kids. With you. Only you.”

“Good,” you relaxed slightly as Peter’s entire face turned bright red, “so what do you think? Will they be part mutant spiders?”

“I don’t know exactly how that works,” he whispered as he pulled you closer to him, “maybe it would be inherited or not. I’m not a geneticist.”

“No,” you shook your head as you took his hand in your face, “just a biophysicist and biochemist. Hardly anything to brag about.”

“I’m basically a professional clown,” he grinned as you traced your fingers along the contours over his face. He was so pretty and you loved getting to have him just like this, gentle and quiet and all yours. He took one of your hands in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “luckily I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you too, Peter Parker,” you pulled him into a tight hug; if he had been a normal person you might have crushed him a little too much. Luckily, he was able to withstand your embrace and tenderly hugged you right back, “my Spider-Man.”

“All yours,” he agreed easily, “all yours.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was spring now, and the nights were gentle and warm, finally not filled with rain as they seemed to have been the entire winter. You were leaning out the window and taking in the sights and sounds of the New York evening. 

You heard the door to the apartment open, followed by Peter’s familiar footsteps. Before you could turn around to greet him, you felt his arms wrap around your waist as he pulled you into his chest and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You sighed softly as you pressed your body into him, “hello my love.”

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispered into your ear, “what are you doing hanging out the window?”

“Just admiring the city,” you turned around so you were facing him, “and now I’m admiring you. I’ve got another question for you, my spider.”

“Which is?”

“Will you take me swinging?” you asked softly, a nervous little expression on your face. Peter’s face grew into a large smile as he nodded eagerly. He’d imagined what it would be like with you loads of times before. He never thought he’d get to make it an actual reality, “but promise you won’t drop me?”

“I swear I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised, “and I promise you’ll have fun. Whenever you’re ready, just say the-”

“I’m ready,” you said excitedly as Peter laughed softly, “can we go now?”

“Yes,” he kissed your cheeks, “let me go and change. Then we’ll go swinging.”

“You’re the best, Parker,” you grinned at him, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he looked at you with soft heart eyes, “my spider girl.”

[bcyhoods]

LOVEFOOL 💌 ─── send in a character and a prompt from these lists for a blurb

peter parker + ❛ is that blood? is it yours? ❜

she’s been collecting dust because i’m insecure, but she will stay hidden no longer!! | 1.4k

warnings: blood, injury, r patching up his wounds, medically inaccurate information (we’re going to pretend it works for my sanity’s sake)

Peter doesn’t really know why he stumbles into the bodega. It’s closed, and it’s empty, safe for where you’re mopping the floors.

You move between the aisles, mouthing the lyrics to whatever song is flowing through your earbuds. He watches your silhouette through the windows, entranced as you make the most mundane chore somehow look so inviting. He knows the moment you see his face that you’d drop everything and throw your arms around him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks.

He supposes that’s why.

That, and the searing pain that shoots through his left leg is making his brain foggy.

Gripping onto his wounded thigh, he musters up the remainder of his strength to pull open the door and stagger inside. He grimaces at the shrill chime of the overhead bell. Even more so when it disrupts your bubble of peace.

“Sorry, we’re…” The rest of the monotonous statement gets caught in your throat. You stare back in his direction with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. The mop slips from your grip and bangs onto the floor.

Peter, clueless and delirious, is convinced it’s because he’s starting to stain the freshly clean linoleum. You’d just mopped and now he’s making a mess. He’s oddly expecting you to scold him before coddling him. Maybe you’ll even give him a kiss. His shoulders momentarily sag in relief.

“Spiderman?”

Shit. He’s still wearing the suit. He forgot.

“Yeah, hey,” he sings nervously, “Nice to meet you. Great establishment you’ve got here, you should be very proud.” He gestures toward the apple display before giving you a puny thumbs up.

You’re stunned, frozen in place. You don’t really notice the way his arm falls limp or the way he uses the nearby shelves as a crutch. You can’t even see the blood dripping down his leg from where you’re standing. Your mind is racing and jumbled because The Spiderman is in your store on a random Tuesday night.

Peter is never going to believe you when you tell him.

You’re abruptly ripped from your daze when he knocks over a can of tomato sauce, cursing under his breath. “Yeah…you’re here. Why are you here? And I don’t mean to kick you out, y’know, protector of the city and all—”

He laughs quietly at the wonder in your voice. He tries to take in your amazement, making note of the raised brows and the shy smile on your face, but he really can’t. His head feels heavy on his shoulders and the overhead lights are killer, even with the mask on. All he wants is for you to hold him, but he’s not Peter right now. And somehow that makes his leg sting even more.

He’s so out of it, he hasn’t even registered that you’d moved closer to him until he hears you gasp. Your expression is different now. You look mortified.

“Oh my god, is that blood?” When he jumps, you continue quieter, “Is it yours?”

“Huh? No, no, it’s not, it’s just uh…”

He utilizes the shelf to limp closer to you, but one uncoordinated shift of the hand makes his knees buckle and it sends him to the floor with a groan. A yelp involuntarily escapes as you rush to his side.

“It might be a little, yeah,” he admits defeatedly through clenched teeth.

“Here, let me help.”

He tries to protest, but ultimately surrenders to your fleeting touch as you push at his shoulders to lean up against the wall of freezers. You kneel in between his legs, ignoring the way heat rushes to your ears when he gently holds onto your forearm. It was so instinctive, so tender, like he’d done it a million times before.

Your fingers hover over the tear in his suit before you’re asking, “May I…?”

He nods. Careful of the wound, you pull and rip at the material to expose the severity of it. He makes a sound of ease, one that you’ve mistaken for worry and it shoots right to your chest.

Peter concludes it looks worse than it actually is. It’s definitely not deep enough to require stitches, but the cut crosses the expanse of his thigh. He’s fixed up worse in his dingy apartment bathroom. It’s not entirely unfamiliar, but he’s lost a lot of blood on the way here.

“Just a paper cut,” he adds cheekily to make you feel better. It doesn’t, really. When he notices the way you stare at the wound and how your hands shake with worry, he reaches to hold them. “Hey, I’m okay. Happens all the time,” he assures softly.

The frown you wear looks entirely foreign. It makes his insides burn and all he wants to do is kiss it away. To make you smile at him again like you’d done so earlier.

“A lot of people don’t really like me that much,” he says. He’s barely coherent, the words are slurred together at this point. But he doesn’t really care when he hears you scoff. It’s good enough, he decides.

“Okay. Just…just wait here.” You’re gone before Peter can grumble some smart remark about how he couldn’t go anywhere even if he wanted to.

When you reappear, your arms are full with soaking wet wash rags, a box of wound cushions, and a cheap spool of gauze. His arm is lazily thrown over his head to provide some sort of shelter from the bright lights. The bleeding has slowed down just the slightest, but it doesn’t instill much confidence.

A timid exhale is pushed from your lungs and you warn, “I don’t really know what I’m doing. It might hurt.”

“Nothing I can’t hand—oh, mmm!”

You’re immediately pulling away, the rag in your hand tinged with crimson.

“It’s okay,” he’s quick to reassure you before you can even apologize. It comes out strangled. He’s sitting up straighter, his muscles are tense, his fists are clenched beside him, but he keeps whispering it like a mantra. You’re not sure if he’s saying it for you or for himself. Maybe both.

“It’s okay,” you repeat softly. He hums.

The mumbled phrase spills over your lips every time he flinches away from your touch. It spills over his lips whenever your brows pinch in response. It echoes through the store until the beige cloth becomes red and you’re wrapping the gauze around his thigh.

He selfishly wishes you knew his secret just so you could patch him up from now on. You’re so gentle, you’re doing a much better job than he usually does. It helps that even the thought of having you around makes every worry melt away.

You’re tying off the wound and smiling to yourself with a sense of accomplishment. It’s infectious, it has Peter smiling under his mask. “Done!” Clearing your throat, you stand up and reach your arms down in an offer to pull him up with you. “You need to learn to stop getting on people’s bad side, Spiderman,” you jest.

He chuckles and shakes his head. Taking your hands, he’s staggering up and once he’s settled, puts his hands on his hips. “I think some people are just too sensitive,” he argues.

He feels miles better now, but you’re beaming at him and it makes his brain feel all fuzzy all over again. You bend down to grab the leftover materials and stick them out towards him. “For your leg. On the house.”

“Thank you,” he replies simply. He takes them from your hands, with a smirk hidden away from you. It’s such a measly offering. The box of dressings is practically empty, the gauze is tiny and already unraveling in his hands. But he’s feeling an electric current rush through his limbs and spark a fire in his chest all the same.

“Yeah…” As if a lightbulb ticks on over your head, your eyes brighten and your smile is wider, if that was even possible. “While you’re here,” you start, turning away from him and towards the counter to retrieve your phone. “My friend Peter, he um…he’s never gonna believe me, but I wanted to know if—”

The sound of the overhead bell makes you whip your head back around to see the bodega is completely empty. No evidence of any wounded superhero barging in after hours besides the bloodied floor. Before you can feel dejected, the reality settles in once more.

You just saved The Spiderman from bleeding out in your store on a random Tuesday night.

Peter is never going to believe you when you tell him.

[the-winter-spider]

The View Between Villages: Part One

Word Count: 4.9k

Pairings: Bucky x reader, TASM!Peter x Reader

A/N: I had this posted forever ago, buut i decided to rewrite and make the story better cuz it was bleh before. I had this idea obvs watching NWH and i loooove Bucky but i alsp loooooove Andrew Garfields spiderman so here we are LOL

Masterlist

—

You were out of touch with the world and everything going on in it—which had to be a lot; it was always a lot.

Finally, you mustered up the courage to leave your new home—scratch that, apartment. Nothing and no one was ever going to be “home” to you again.

You were done. Done with trying to see the brighter side of things, like Tony always told you to. You should’ve listened to Natasha. Love was for children, and you were so young when you fell in love with him. But neither of you were children anymore. Life was hard; you always knew it would be, but never in a hundred years did you expect your path to twist the way it did.

How did you get it so wrong? You couldn’t stop thinking about that day—the day you mustered up the courage to talk to the boy next door. Maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe you should have just let it be, and you wouldn’t have been sucked into the whirlpool that became your life.

Maybe then you would have found a husband, had a couple of children, and died at 80, like everyone you had ever known did.

But instead, you found yourself here, in a world that wasn’t your own. The day you appeared out of thin air, you knew—deep in your bones—that nothing was right. Nothing was where it should be. And when that door in the white room opened, and Steve walked through, you couldn’t help but laugh. Did you really die of heartache and go to heaven? Because that made more sense than it being 2011, when you could’ve sworn it was 1945 just two seconds ago, and Steve was dead.

You waited anxiously for Bucky to follow Steve through that door. If Steve was here, then Bucky had to be here too, right?

But you were wrong. So very wrong. This wasn’t heaven. It was some safe house on the outskirts of New York, occupied by a government agency called SHIELD. Bucky was still dead. Steve wasn’t. And neither were you.

You could never have imagined that the war would follow you into the future, that the ghosts of your past would walk the streets of a world you didn’t recognize. But here you were, alive in a time that shouldn’t have been yours, surrounded by people who were only half the versions of themselves you had once known.

Steve tried to tell you it would be okay, that the world had moved on and so could you. But what did he know about moving on? His world ended in 1945 too, just like yours. And just like you, he was a relic of a time gone by, a ghost haunting the present.

But unlike you, Steve had a purpose. A mission. He always did. You, on the other hand, were just trying to survive, to make sense of the shattered pieces of your life. And every day, you couldn’t help but wonder—was this all that was left? Just an endless loop of waking up in a world that didn’t feel like yours, surrounded by people who didn’t really know you?

You used to believe in fate, in some grand design that connected all the moments of your life. But now, all you saw was chaos—a mess of broken dreams and lost futures, tangled together in a web that you couldn’t escape from. And yet, there was no going back. No undoing the choices that led you here, to this place, this time.

But there was one thing you were certain of: as long as you were alive, you would never stop searching—for a way back, for a way out, for a way to make sense of the senseless.

For Bucky.

Because even after everything, you couldn’t let go of the hope that somewhere, somehow, he was out there, waiting for you to find him.

—

Flashback - 2011

“We’re going to be okay, y/n/n, I promise.” Steve’s hand reached out to squeeze yours, a familiar warmth in an unfamiliar world.

You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “How is any of this okay, Steve? I have no idea how I’m here or why. I just went out for a walk after that woman told me about you, and the next thing I know, I’m here. And you’re here—you’re supposed to be dead.” You were standing now, pacing, as the rain hammered against the window. “And he’s still gone. How is that fair? How is this okay?”

Before Steve could answer, the door burst open, and a man you didn’t recognize stormed in. “If you don’t calm her down, we’re gonna be under water here in a few seconds.”

Your eyes shot back to Steve, panic setting in. “What’s he talking about?”

Steve sighed, standing up from the chair he’d been sitting in. “I haven’t told her yet, Stark.”

The man rolled his eyes and adjusted his stance to face you more directly. “Look, Sleeping Beauty, I know this is a lot to take in. I get that, I really do. But we’re beating around the bush here.”

“Stark,” Steve warned, his tone firm.

The man—Stark—waved him off, his brown eyes locking onto yours. “You have powers. Yes, superpowers.”

A crackle of thunder boomed overhead, rattling the windows.

He gave you a reassuring smile, pointing towards the storm outside. “All that? That’s you. You’re doing that.”

Your mouth parted in disbelief, your head shaking as you turned back to Steve. “He’s telling the truth, y/n,” Steve said softly.

“I always am,” Stark added, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You took a hesitant step towards the window, staring out at the storm raging outside. You could feel something inside you, something new and terrifying, pulsing with the rhythm of the thunder. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, and suddenly, the image of his smile flashed behind your eyelids—Bucky’s smile.

You felt them both standing behind you, their presence grounding you. Stark’s voice was closer now, softer. “Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

When you opened your eyes, the rain had stopped, the clouds parting to reveal a brilliant rainbow stretching across the sky. You stared at it, a symbol of hope in a world that made no sense.

Steve smiled down at you, his arm coming around your shoulder as he leaned in close, his voice a whisper just for you. “For Bucky.”

And for the first time since you found yourself in this new world, you felt a flicker of something—something that might, in time, grow into a reason to keep going.

—

You weren’t sure how you felt about that memory. At the time, you were so grateful to have at least one of your boys back in your life. And you were happy to have a new one—Tony. He meant so much to you, quickly becoming one of the best people you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting in your century-long life.

But of course, that didn’t last long. Nothing good ever does.

Tony used to tell you that this was it, the big fight, the one that would decide everything. You believed him. You thought maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to pull a win out of thin air, like the team always seemed to do, even in those desperate last-second efforts.

But then, on that barren planet in outer frickin’ space, you watched everything unravel. You watched as your friends—your family—slowly turned to dust, one by one. You held onto Peter’s hand, trying to offer whatever support you could, but when he was gone, you started to feel it. The hollowness. The creeping despair.

It was as if the universe was collapsing in on itself, taking with it all the hope you had left. You were supposed to be the strong one, the one who had lived through so much loss and still kept fighting. But in that moment, you felt as fragile as the dust slipping through your fingers.

The silence that followed was deafening. You were alone again, surrounded by the echoes of those you had loved and lost. And this time, not even Steve or Tony could pull you back from the edge.

Back on Earth, when the world should have been mourning, you couldn’t. There was no time for grief. You had to keep going, keep fighting, even though you felt like there was nothing left of you but a shell. Every day was a battle against the overwhelming urge to give up, to let the weight of everything crush you.

But you couldn’t. Not yet. Not when there was still a chance—however slim—that you could bring them back. That you could bring him back.

The thought of Bucky was the only thing that kept you going. The memory of his smile, his laugh, the way he always knew how to make you feel like you belonged, no matter where—or when—you were. He was the constant in your life, the one thread that tied your past to your present. And now, that thread was frayed and fragile, but it was still there, still pulling you forward.

You didn’t know what the future held. You didn’t know if you could ever truly find your way back to the life you once knew. But as long as there was a chance, you would keep fighting. For Steve. For Tony. For Peter. For all of them.

But most of all, for Bucky.

Because after everything, after all the loss and the pain and the heartache, he was still your reason. And as long as you had that, you had something worth fighting for.

—

Flashback - 2018

“Tony,” your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

He looked up from the spot where Peter had just been, his eyes wide with disbelief. Your hand still hovered in the space where Peter had slipped away. “No,” he breathed, shaking his head as if he could will it all away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the weight of the words heavy on your tongue.

Realisation hit him like a punch to the gut. His face crumpled as he leaned forward, grabbing your hand, holding on as tightly as he could. “No, kid, not you too. Please, not you too.”

You looked down at your hand, watching as it began to turn to dust, dissolving right before your eyes. “It’s okay,” you murmured, trying to comfort him even as you felt yourself slipping away. “It’s okay.”

Tony’s grip tightened, his desperation palpable. “No, it’s not okay! You’re not—” His voice cracked, his heart breaking all over again. He couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

As the dust spread from your hand to your arm, you felt a strange calm wash over you. Maybe it was acceptance, or maybe you were just too tired to fight anymore. “Tony, it’s okay,” you repeated, though this time your voice was softer, fading with each word.

Tears filled his eyes as he tried to hold on, as if he could keep you with him by sheer force of will. But you knew it was too late. The universe had made its choice, and all you could do was let go.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered one last time, your voice barely a breath. And then, like Peter, you were gone, leaving nothing behind but a handful of dust and a broken man clutching at the empty air where you had been.

Tony sat there, numb, his hand still outstretched as if you might somehow reappear. But you didn’t. He was alone now, surrounded by the echoes of what had been, and the unbearable silence of what would never be.

And for the first time in a long time, Tony Stark had no idea how to fix it.

—

While you were dusting away, you weren’t sad. Deep down, you knew they would find a way to bring everyone back, to win.

And they did. You came back—everyone did—but at a high cost, one that you weren’t sure was worth paying. Your home, the compound, was in ruins, and you lost members of your family along the way. Yet even then, you thought maybe, just maybe, the light would stop flickering with tragic, horrible things. Maybe it was time for it to stay on. But you were wrong. You always were.

Now, as you walked down the dark, rain-soaked streets of New York, you weren’t hurt or heartbroken. You wished you were; it would have been an honour to feel something, anything. But instead, the rain hit your skin, not with the calming or joyful effect it once had, but as another weight added to the burdens you carried.

A hundred years.

One hundred years is a long time to be alive, a number most people never even get the chance to see—but you did.

People would ramble on about how you and Steve should be so grateful for the chance to live as long as you had, how lucky you were to experience two such different decades. But you didn’t feel lucky or grateful. You felt betrayed, like your chance at ever being truly happy had been ripped out from underneath you.

You didn’t care for the powers you were burdened with. You wanted to go back—to a time before Steve was Captain America, back to when Bucky was on one knee in front of that stupid oak tree outside your parents’ old house, with lanterns scattered across the lawn. Back to when the ring was on your finger, not buried in some drawer, gathering dust.

Back to before you risked your life for the sake of your boys, only to be blindsided by them later.

Back to before Steve went back for a woman you’d never even really known until she was on your doorstep, telling you about Steve and the crash.

Back to before you fought so hard to get the love of your life back, only to have him call it off because neither of you were who you once were.

You had never felt more alone.

Had never felt more betrayed.

And then Steve left.

He didn’t just leave, though. He went back—to a life you could never touch, to a time where you didn’t exist. It felt like a final blow, the last thread connecting you to anything familiar, severed. He didn’t just leave; he chose to leave you behind.

You knew, deep down, that Steve had a right to his own happiness, that he’d earned it after everything he’d sacrificed. But it didn’t make the pain any less sharp, didn’t make the loneliness any less suffocating. You had spent so many years fighting beside him, fighting for a future where you both could find peace. And now, it felt like you were the only one still fighting.

What was left for you? The world had changed, twisted into something unrecognisable, and you were left to wander it alone, a relic of a past no one remembered, in a present you didn’t want.

The rain kept falling, soaking through your clothes, chilling you to the bone. But you kept walking, each step heavier than the last. You didn’t know where you were going, or if you’d ever find your way back to anything resembling a home. Maybe you didn’t have a home anymore.

The weight of a hundred years pressed down on you, each memory a stone in the ever-growing pile on your back. And as you walked, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth it—if any of it had been worth it.

You thought of Bucky, of that ring, of the life you’d dreamed of and never got to live. You thought of Steve, and the life he’d chosen, one that didn’t include you. And for the first time, you wondered if maybe it was time to stop fighting. To let the past go, to let it rest.

But the question remained—if you let go of the past, what was left?

You didn’t have an answer. And that scared you more than anything else.

-

Flashback - 2023

“You’re what?”

Steve sighed, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders. “When I put the stones back, I’m going to stay. I’m going to find her, and taste a bit of the life Tony kept telling me to get.”

“You’re just gonna leave us? Just like that?” Your voice trembled as your hand ripped out of Bucky’s grasp. You were standing now, your heart pounding in your chest. “W-when we finally have a chance at being happy, like before?!”

“Doll—” Bucky reached for your hand again, his voice gentle, pleading.

But you stepped further away, your breath hitching as you tried to process the betrayal unfolding before you. “I can’t believe after everything—you’re just going to leave me again? What if something happens, and you’re not here, and we fail, Steve? What then?”

He tried to speak, to offer some comfort, but you couldn’t hear him over the roar of your own despair. You felt as though the world was crumbling beneath your feet, the ground giving way to a chasm of loneliness you’d fought so hard to escape.

Steve stepped forward, pulling you into his arms as your resolve shattered, and you sobbed into his chest. His embrace, once your source of comfort, now felt like a cruel reminder of what you were about to lose. You clung to him, knowing this would be the last time.

“You’re not going to fail, Y/n/n,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he held you tighter. “The world has you, and you have Bucky.”

His words, meant to reassure, only deepened the wound. How could he say that? How could he abandon you, abandon the fight, when you needed him the most? The man who had been your rock through a century of war and loss was now choosing to walk away, leaving you to pick up the pieces alone.

“Steve… please,” you choked out, your tears soaking into his shirt. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave me again.”

But even as you said it, you knew it was already too late. His mind was made up. The man who had always been by your side, who had fought with you through every nightmare, was choosing a different life—a life without you.

“Doll, he’s right,” Bucky’s voice broke through the haze of your grief, but it felt distant, like it was coming from another world. “We’ll get through this. We’ll keep fighting, just like we always have.”

But the words felt hollow, empty. How could you keep fighting when the person you’d fought hardest with was walking away? How could you believe in a future that didn’t include the one man who had always been there?

Steve pulled back slightly, tilting your chin up so you had to meet his gaze. His eyes were filled with sorrow, with regret, but also with a determination you couldn’t break. “You’re stronger than you know,” he said softly. “You always have been.”

But that strength felt like a curse now, a burden you didn’t want to carry anymore. What good was strength when it meant being left behind, over and over again? What good was it when the people you loved the most kept choosing to leave?

“I don’t want to be strong,” you whispered, the words falling from your lips like a confession. “I just want you. I just want us.”

He closed his eyes, his own pain etched into every line of his face. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

And with that, the final thread between you unravelled. You felt it snap, felt the emptiness rush in to fill the space where Steve had always been. You stepped back, slipping out of his arms, the cold air rushing in to replace his warmth.

Bucky moved toward you, his face etched with his own heartbreak, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to take comfort in his presence. Not now. Not when the wound was still fresh, bleeding with the knowledge that Steve had chosen a life that didn’t include you.

You turned away from them both, unable to bear the sight of their faces. The betrayal was too sharp, too deep, cutting through everything you thought you knew. You had fought so hard, given so much, and in the end, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

The door closed behind you as you walked away, each step echoing in the hollow silence that filled the room. And as you disappeared into the night, the tears fell freely, the weight of a hundred years pressing down on your shoulders.

This time, you weren’t sure if you could keep going. This time, you weren’t sure if there was anything left to fight for.

Then Bucky left, and he took the last part of you with him.

Flashback - 2024

“I just feel it’s for the best, doll,” Bucky’s eyes were pleading, searching yours for a trace of understanding, for some sign that you’d see where he was coming from. But you didn’t.

“I don’t understand, Buck.”

He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he tried to take yours. But you pulled away, placing your hands in your lap before he could touch you. You saw the way he swallowed hard, fighting back the heartbreak that threatened to spill over. “It’s just… this is the first time in 70 years that I’m free and—”

“You want to be free from everything that reminds you of the past, and that includes me?” Your voice was laced with betrayal, each word like a shard of glass cutting through the fragile remains of your heart.

His mouth opened, then closed, as if he couldn’t find the right words. He shook his head violently, desperate to make you understand. “No, not at all, doll. It’s not like that. I just need some time—time to figure out who I am now.”

You nodded, the numbness settling in as you pushed your chair back. The sound of it scraping against the floor echoed in the silence that had fallen between you. The silence of an ending.

“Don’t go, please,” his voice cracked, desperation seeping through the cracks in his resolve. “I love y—”

But before he could finish, you reached up, your fingers trembling as you unclasped the necklace from around your neck. The necklace you’d worn every day since you got it back. A single ring hung from the chain, its weight a constant reminder of what could have been. You placed it on the table beside his gloved hand, the sound of metal on wood like the final nail in the coffin of your relationship.

“You kept it?” His voice was barely a whisper, filled with disbelief and pain.

Licking your lips, you looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I waited for you. I fought for you. It was supposed to be you, Buck. I thought it was going to be us.” You took a shaky breath, the tears you’d been holding back burning in your eyes. “I was wrong.”

Bucky picked up the ring, turning it over between his fingers as if it were a precious artifact, as if it held all the memories of what you once had. “Please, keep it,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “It’ll always be yours. My heart will always be yours, doll. I just need some time.”

You shook your head, the pain in your chest almost unbearable as you stood up and put on your coat. “I’m tired of waiting, Bucky.”

He opened his mouth to say something, to beg you to stay, but the words never came. He watched as you turned and walked away, the ring slipping from his fingers, landing on the table with a soft thud.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. The weight of all those years, of all the promises broken, was too much to bear. You had given everything you had to Bucky, waited for him through a war, through decades of heartache, through every battle that followed. And now, all that waiting, all that hope, had been for nothing.

As you stepped out into the cold night air, you felt the final piece of your heart shatter. Steve had left you, and now Bucky had too. The two men who had been your world, who had been your everything, were gone. And you were alone.

You walked through the empty streets, the world around you feeling as cold and unforgiving as the emptiness inside you. The pain was overwhelming, a grief so deep it threatened to consume you. But you kept walking, each step taking you further away from the life you once knew, from the love you had lost.

You didn’t know where you were going, or what you would do now. All you knew was that the life you had fought so hard to hold onto was gone, and the future you had dreamed of was nothing more than a distant memory.

And as the night stretched on, you realised with a hollow ache that there was nothing left for you here. The life you had once shared with Steve and Bucky was over, and the person you had been with them was gone too.

You had always been a fighter, but now, for the first time in your long life, you didn’t know what you were fighting for.

—

That was six months ago. Bucky had tried to call you—more times than you could count—but you never answered. Sam had shown up more than a handful of times, but you never opened the door. When Steve passed, you watched from a distance, hidden in the shadows, watching Bucky search for you in the crowd, his eyes filled with an emptiness that mirrored your own.

Were you really that bad at making choices? So bad that you’d never be anyone’s first choice?

Your fingers traced the old oak tree, the one with a heart engraved into its bark, marked with “Y/N + Bucky = Always & Forever.” What a lie. What a cruel, empty promise.

Your hand gripped the tree, nails digging into the rough bark until they bled. The pain felt like the only real thing left in this world. You let out an agonizing scream, a cry so raw and broken that it seemed to tear the very sky apart. The rain began to pour down rapidly, the wind whipping through the trees, the sky echoing your torment with a thunderous roar. The roots of the oak surged up from the earth, cracking the tree down the center, splitting the heart into two jagged pieces. Just like yours.

As the tree splintered, the buzzing in your pocket yanked you back from the edge of despair. You prayed it wasn’t him—Bucky. Maybe, for once, luck was on your side. As raindrops blurred your vision, you squinted at the screen. “Peter Parker” was written across it.

You exhaled the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Hi, Pete.”

“Y/N, I—I need your help,” his voice trembled, frantic and filled with guilt. “I messed up so bad. I’m sure you have a lot going on, but I just…I need help. P-please.”

The rain eased up, the storm in the sky quieting as the storm in your heart shifted.

You pressed your forehead against the broken bark of the tree, the rough surface grounding you. “Of course, Pete. Whatever you need. I told you, I’m always here for you, kid. Where are you?”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you—” You could hear the relief in his voice as he exhaled. “That safe house, the one just north of where the compound used to be.”

The one where you woke up after you lost everything.

“Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Do you need me to bring anything?”

You were already on the move, fast-walking down the street, waving desperately at any taxi that passed until one finally screeched to a halt.

“Just be ready for anything.”

A fight. He was preparing you for a fight.

“I’ll see you soon, Pete.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

You hung up, sliding into the backseat of the taxi. “Just drive straight. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

You rested your head against the cool leather, your thoughts racing as fast as your heartbeat. The driver glanced at you through the rearview mirror, his eyes wide with recognition. “You’re that Avenger, right? The one who can, like—” He hesitated, making awkward gestures with his hands. “Control the earth or something like that, right?”

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “Something like that, yeah.”

As the car sped through the rain-soaked streets, you wondered what fresh hell awaited you at the safe house. But whatever it was, it had to be better than the torment you’d been living in. At least, in a fight, there was something to focus on, something other than the pain that had been gnawing at you for months.

You could feel the shattered pieces of your heart stir, not quite mending, but realigning. This wasn’t about Bucky, or Steve, or the past. This was about Peter, about keeping the promise you made to him, and to yourself.

You weren’t sure how you’d get through this, but you knew one thing for certain—you wouldn’t let Peter down. Not like you’d let yourself down. Not like you’d let Bucky go. You’d fight, because that’s all you had left to give.

[spiderfunkz]

hi! i’d love to know abt your fav headcanon(s) for tasm!peter and maybe a little oneshot of said headcanon(s)?

peter parker falls in love HARDDDDD!! i love him and his nerdy ass like aaaaghhhhhh. he's so cutesy and skrunkly i just wanna throw a rock at him 💕

peter parker is the type of person to go head over heels when he likes someone!! the type of person to steal a glance every time you're not looking. the type of person to secretly hope he'd get partnered up with you during class. the type of person to practice in front of the mirror before finally talking to you.

he's the type of person to notice every little thing about you. the pins on your bag of your favorite artists? he can name five songs. your favorite flowers? he walks past the flower shop every morning, hoping to buy you some one day. the way you always have that one mood ring on your finger, he finds it adorable.

he goes so flustered whenever you catch him glancing at you. his face turns all red and he starts giggling actually, your probably the reason he skips to school everyday, hands in pockets, twirling around in pure joy and excitement.

he'll brag to his friends on how he talked to you when in reality it was him saying happy birthday and you replying with a thank you along with a smile that surely gave him a cavity.

to summarize it up. peter parker doesn't just like someone. he loves them. pure admiration, adoration, infatuation, smitten. you're the light in his heart, the butterfly in a field of wildflowers, the red tulip in a field of white tulips.

peter has liked you for a while now.

it was a long day of classes, he could've just skipped but aunt may found out he was doing that too much and got pretty mad. besides, it's just one more class. a class he never really had to try in. should be easy right?

yes, but no.

you just switched classes to biology. sitting in the only empty chair, just two chairs away from peter. he saw you, and that's when he knew.

you were never late, unlike peter. every time he comes in you're already there, smiling awkwardly at the situation as mrs. moore lectured him. but what's the point? peter wasn't listening, he was too busy figuring out what emotion was on your mood ring, and spoiler alert! it was love.

it took him a lot of convincing and reassurance from gwen, but he finally got the courage to talk to you. not about how the weather is, or the same old "did you do the _ assignment yet?". he was going to ask you out on a totally friends-only, platonic date ( that goes so well it will end up with you and him holding hands! ).

"hi!" peter smiled, his hand playing with his hair. "hey, peter." he seemed nervous, you were too.

"um, so, i was wondering if you.. would.." he looked everywhere but your eyes, "..that if we could, maybe, um.. hangout? together? if you want to. obviously, you don't have to but um-"

"no yeah, i would love to peter!" you smiled. was it hot? it felt hot, your face felt hot, does peter notice? he probably does.

peter's heart was racing through a field, it was winning first place. "okay, good- great! i could um. pick you up? i'll text you. you have my number right? i could just um- you know..." he played with the hem of his jacket.

you nodded, "yeah i do." — "okay, we could meetup somewhere.. maybe the park? is that boring? the cinema? anything you'd like, i'm fine with anything you know. or we could just.. hang.."

you smile, "sure."

"really?"

"yeah definitely, either one. or we could do all of them, i've got nothing to do." — "okay, that's super! super- cool.. super cool. i'll text you, is that okay?"

you nodded, "of course."

"okay, i um- i'll go now. i should go now. i'll see you? later?" peter asks.

"yeah okay!" you wave happily as he walks backwards towards the exit, nearly bumping into 2, no, 3 now, students.

"text me!" you yell out.

peter nodded eagerly.

he walks out, knowing gwen is not gonna hear the end of this.