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alwaysmoncheri · 1 year ago

Note

hello! I hope you’re doing good! I would like to request a fic with tasm!peter parker or james potter if you prefer, but something where they’re making out and the reader ends up breaking his glasses? If that makes sense🫣

hi, my darling, i’m am doing very well! thank you for requesting, that makes complete sense! I’m totally watching tasm again after writing this <3

cw: fem!reader, making out, slightly suggestive (but not really), aunt may walking in, established relationship, fluff, 1.2k

Peter’s mouth is on your neck while the bridge of his glasses rubs against the skin just an inch higher than his mouth. His hands stay firmly planted on your hips as you sit in his lap on his swivel chair. Your textbook and computer lay abandoned next to his on his desk in front of you.

“Peter, I have to study,” you mumble, but the sigh that escapes your lips makes your excuse less believable, “We have to study.” you add, trying you best to get yourself and peter back on track for a big exam tomorrow. Crazy for Peter or not, this test is important and you need to get a little studying in, but you can’t get Peter to keep his hands off you.

“No, we don’t.” Peter replies quickly, before biting your neck, causing you to let out squeak.

“Peter,” you practically whine, and the chuckle that falls from Peter’s mouth vibrates onto your neck, causing you to squirm in his lap. When Peter lifts his head from your neck, you’re pouting. Lips jutted out and eyebrows pinched together with pleading eyes. Oh, Peter could die right here with you in his arms. He pulls you closer, biceps and hands pressed into your sides and forearms into your stomach.

“You’re going to be fine,” Peter offers gently, pressing a much softer kiss to your cheek, allowing you to release the tension from your face, “You’ve studied plenty already.”

“But–”

“No, buts,” Peter shuts you down, gently rubbing your sides in an attempt to silence your worries. He wants to kiss you so bad, but he would never do it without your permission. And if you want to study, he’ll let you, but he doesn’t think you really do, “Kiss me?”

Peter hears you release a long, dramatic, sigh before shifting yourself in his lap so that you’re straddling him, his hands now stabilizing you by your waist. For a moment your face is expressionless and Peter can’t read you. He worries that you’re unhappy with him but when he sees a giddy smile creep onto your face, he instantly reciprocates and his worries melt away.

You lock your hands around Peter’s neck before leaning in to kiss him. At first, you kiss him softly, tenderly just because you love him. But when you lightly tug on Peter’s hair at the nape of his neck, he takes it as a sign to tug on your hips, pulling you flush against his chest and deepen the kiss. But when the bridge of you nose knocks into Peter’s glasses, you groan in momentary pain, causing his eyes to widen, hand reaching up to gently hold your cheek, the action asking if you’re okay. When you nod your head and meet his gaze, you notice his concern before it’s quickly replaced with frustration. Peter quickly tears his glasses on his face and tosses them towards his bed without sparing a glance in that direction. But when a soft crack echos from across the room, you snap your gaze towards the glasses that now lay broken at the bridge on the floor.

“Peter!” You gasp, shifting your gaze between him and the broken glasses, but no concern seems to be etched on his face.

“Don’t worry, I can get new ones,” Peter assures you, kissing the corners of your lips while his nose delicately brushes the apples of your cheeks, “I just wanna kiss you.” Peter whispers and you feel a rush of warmth spread across your face at his tone.

“Aunt May isn’t going to be happy.” You state, nervously glancing towards the door that Peter probably forgot to lock again.

“Shush, less talking, baby,” Oh god, you melt completely at the way his says baby and presses his finger to your mouth, before replacing it with his lips, “More kissing.” He adds in between a few quick, hard, presses of his lips on yours.

“Oh whatev—hmph!”

Peter kisses you long and hard, successfully getting you to stop talking. You feel hot all over when he kisses you again and again. And when you rank your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging on the ends, while simultaneously gently biting his bottom lip, Peter makes a sound between a gasp and a groan that makes you want to do it again just so you can hear the sound once more. There’s a kiss, another, and another, you’re so caught up in the feeling of his mouth against yours, carefully sliding your hands up and down his chest before lightly gripping a fist full of his shirt to keep him near you.

The way Peter touches you is like muscle memory, he knows how to make you gasp and what makes you shiver. When, his hands slip under the material of your shirt and caress your skin, your body reacts exactly how he knows it always does. Then, he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his waist, and with his lips still on yours, he gently lowers the both of you onto his bed. He seems so far away now and you can’t handle it. Before he even has the chance to lower himself further down onto the bed, you grab his biceps, which are tensed from holding himself up, and tug him towards you. Peter practically falls and suddenly the weight of his whole body is on top of you, Peter worries for a moment, breaking the kiss, but you make a noise, reminiscent to a childish whine before grabbing his jaw with both of you hands and pulling him back. With his lips on yours, his tongue slides into your mouth while your thumbs trace the outline of his jaw and his hand slides behind you back and into your shirt.

“Hey, do you two know where—Oh my goodness!” You and Peter are quickly pulled apart, turning your heads in the direction of Aunt May’s loud gasp. She stands just outside the bedroom with one hand still on the doorknob, her expression loudly displaying her shock. Peter stays on top of you for a split second, before May’s gaze shifts between his hand in your shirt and both of your disheveled appearances, “Peter Benjamin Parker!”

With that, Peter immediately jumps up from on top of you, quickly grabbing your hand to stand next to him. Both of your faces are flushed red from being caught, even if all you were doing was kissing. Aunt May stands by the door, both of her hands placed firmly on her hips, presumably awaiting a reasonable response while you and Peter glance at each other in search of something to say. When Peter’s gaze returns to his aunt, he finally opens his mouth to speak.

“Aunt May—We were just—” Peter pauses as he stumbles over his words, feeling pathetic under the eyes of both you and his aunt.

“Studying.” You finish with a somewhat convincing smile and when Aunt May turns to you, her gaze softens, but when she notices the broken glasses laying forgotten on the floor behind you, her questioning expression returns.

“And what happened to your glasses?” Aunt May asks, a triumphant smile crossing her face as she knows she’s caught the two of you red-handed in your obvious lie, “Were you studying when that happened?”

You and Peter hesitate, he sends you a nervous smile and the both of you bite your tongues, not trusting yourselves to speak. After a moment, the two of you nod, heads hanging low.

“Mhm, right,” May hums before sending Peter a look that says, ‘we’ll talk later.’ Then, she takes a few steps into the room, causing you and Peter’s eyes to widen, but May only steps around you to pick up the broken glasses before walking back towards the door, “Well, dinner is almost ready, you two better behave.”

“Okay, yeah, thank you, May.” Peter says, and you can tell he’s beyond flustered by the situation as he runs a hand through his hair, then brushes a finger along his bottom lip, “We’ll be down soon.”

May nods before sending the both of you one final look, this one a little more playful than the rest. She exits the bedroom and closes the door behind her, leaving you and Peter alone once again.

The both of you share a glance before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Peter falls back onto the bed, tugging you down with his so that you’re laying on his chest.

“I told you she’d be mad.” You tease, running your hand up his chest, eventually reaching the back of his neck, while leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“It was so worth it.” Peter smirks before flipping you over and kissing your face

masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @googie-jeon, @Kevia1000, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @averyhotchner, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker

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electrosuite · 4 months ago

Note

shower sex with peter plsssss

warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, shower sex, oral sex

word count: 774

masterlist

Peter was especially dirty tonight. Being thrown into a puddle of mud that soaked through his suit meant that he was literally caked in dirt and blood. You wound up putting the suit into a trash bag for the time being to avoid it getting everything else dirty, shoving it under your bed so no one found it.

You hated seeing him after a fight, all bruised and bloody. Turns out New York City had a huge villain problem that you didn't know about before you met him.

You watched him in the mirror as he stepped into the shower, even his ass dirty. You stripped yourself bare and followed him in. He was just standing under the water with his eyes closed, sighing of relief at the feeling of the hot water.

You placed your hands on his sides, eventually sliding them all the way around and hugging him from behind. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder blade and he tipped his head back to lean it against your scalp.

You were careful not to hurt him, but you weren't gentle enough. A couple of his ribs had been cracked and were hurting his lungs. But, to be completely honest, your arms around him was welcomed. He needed a hug, especially one from you.

After a few seconds, he turned around to face you. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you gently, water now hitting the back of his neck.

He swapped your positions, putting you under the stream. He slowly pushed you against the wall, the water hitting the top of his head and flowing down your faces.

His hands slid down your body to your ass and he smirked into the kiss. He squeezed a bit and you couldn't hold in the moan that conjured up.

He kissed down your body and didn't stop until he was on his knees, holding your writhing body by your hips.

"Peter," you said softly.

"Hm?"

"Why don't we take a real shower and move this to the bedroom?"

"Mm, I don't wanna."

Immediately, he kissed your clit and you shuddered. He hiked your leg over his shoulder, his other hand on the back of the straight knee.

You didn't feel like trying to persuade him to stop, and honestly any thought you had in your head was gone the second his tongue made contact.

You reached down and tangled your fingers in his wet hair, giving you a better grip on it. It didn't take long for you to be a moaning mess, him having to hold your trembling legs still.

The second he was kissing you again, it was like something took over and he was smushing his face against his. He scooped you up and wrapped your legs around his hips. He held you up with one hand — that damn Spider-Man strength — and positioned himself at your entrance with the other.

"Are you hurting?" you asked after he winced a bit.

"Not much. I'm good."

"You sure? I could always just let you take me from behind," you said seductively.

As an answer, he sunk you down onto him and you moaned, laying your head back against the wall. His lips latched onto your neck as he began thrusting, the water hitting where your bodies connected.

You'd only had sex standing once or twice before so you forgot how good it felt for your body to be completely controlled by him. Shoved against the wall, your feet not even on the ground, he could move and fuck you however he wanted to.

But tonight, it didn't seem like he would last much longer. You didn't blame him though, as he never did after he fought bad guys.

You grabbed his face and looked into his eyes, his pupils as big as his irises. Eye contact was always a big turn on for him, so you knew this would get him to cum soon.

"Peter, I want you to cum in me."

"You sure?"

You nodded. "Absolutely. Fill me up." And with that, he was slamming into you, trying to get there quickly. "Fuck, that feels so good."

Within seconds, you felt his warm cum fill you to the brim, dripping out onto the shower floor. You always loved seeing the look on his face when he came — eyebrows pointed up, mouth agape. It was hot as hell.

After a few more kisses, he put you back down on your feet and sat down on the side of the tub on top of the shower liner to catch his breath.

You smirked, washing your hair as you breathed heavily.

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day1dream · 3 months ago

Text

Making out with Peter Parker

as we all can tell, the first time would be quite awkward, 'cause that boy has never been touched by a woman before

asks for your content on everything and literally everything

you'd sit in his room, on his bed with you on his lap

actually into slow passionate kissing before going absolutely wild as soon as your lips only come near his neck

no, I don't think you understand how sensitive that boys neck is

holds your hips in a gentle yet steady grip as you kissed him so good

sometimes doesn't even realise that he's gripping onto you, nor how strong his grip really is, though it's never so hard that it actually hurts (would be such a turn off for him, for real)

hands slowly wandering down to grip your thighs as you kissed his neck just right

let’s out a lot of little moans and groans

hands gently wandering up under your shirt again to caress your sides while its his turn to cover your neck in a trail of needy kisses and maybe a few marks if he feels especially confident

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 11 months ago

Text

DOWN BAD- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Jock! Peter x Nerd! Reader (enemies to… lovers?)

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Peter Parker constantly nags you, and you hate his guts (naturally). So what better way to mellow the hate by being paired together for a class project? And why, if you hate his guts, do you want to touch him so bad?

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing etc…

Notes: It’s been a while, I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, I had a fun time writing, and I really did miss it (Taylor Swifts new album really inspired me too!) I am using my phone to post for the first time, I hope to go back and format/ edit if need be when I can use my laptop again. Thank you for all the support :)

“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed, eyes sharp as daggers as your cool gaze slid over to your target and struck its mark.

Peter Parker. Bullseye.

You could feel his lingering attention solely focused on you, a coy smirk upon his lips as he tapped his pencil against the wooden desk, its dull echo like nails on a chalkboard. A taunting metronome in the back of your mark as he leaned over to tower over you in his seat.

It was too close to yours for your liking.

“Like what pipsqueak?” he murmured, drowning out the professor's droning voice as he dragged on. You wished you could hit him with the textbook in your bag. Both of them, honestly.

“Like you’re thrilled for this. Don’t act like you like me.”

“Well I do like you.” He smiled, beaming ear to ear.

For him, it was the best day of his life. Getting randomly paired with “whoever you’re sitting next to, I don’t care.” (the professor's words, not yours), was a thrill for him, he got to pick on the quiet, shy girl more than usual.

Which would be a shock, considering the sheer amount he did already, always finding his way next to you to tease you, especially with and to his stupid jockey friends. This project was worth thirty percent of your grade. You couldn’t afford this.

“Well I don’t like you. So fuck off.” You heard a low whistle from behind you, a chuck alongside it from his friends. “Kitty has claws?” Peter whistled, eyebrow raising in mock surprise as you shifted your legs to the other side of the chair, angling away from him.

“Oh you’re in for it now Parker” Bucky laughed as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way they mocked you. And what made it worse was that it got to you. Not that the jokes and remarks meant anything much, but it was just the sheer annoyance of it all.

You had thrived to be a straight A student your entire life, and in this class… you could feel them slipping. Taking a deep breath, you clenched your pen harder in your hand, pressing so hard the page snagged as you wrote.

You could still feel his eyes on you, flickering over from under his glasses ,his muscles flexing subtly under his blue t-shirt. You pretended not to look, and to not focus on the fact he was extremely attractive. You spent the rest of the hour doing just that, scolding yourself for any indecent thought you had ever had about him, ever. By the time the professor had snapped his laptop shut, the projector turning dark as students started to talk amongst themselves as they packed up, you had half a page of notes, max.

“I’ll be in touch.” he leaned down and whispered, hand lingering by your chair as he slipped by. “Fuck you.”

He just threw his head back and laughed, his friend group joining him as he looked back. And winked. You groaned. This was going to be three weeks of hell.

—————————————————————————

It was a Thursday when you got a text from him. An unknown number flashed on your screen as you lay face down on your bed, contemplating life and if this class was seriously worth it or not.

The buzz of the phone had your head snapping up, confused until it suddenly dawned on you.

Unknown: Think we should start brainstorming for this thing pipsqueak?

Well fuck, you thought, wanting to throw your phone across the room. This class wasn’t that important, right? (It was).

Taking a deep breath, you sat up as your thumbs started to fly across the screen.

You: Who is this?

Unknown: I’m hurt, pips. Truly.

You: I think you have the wrong number.

You smirked. Okay, who were you kidding… this was kind of fun. Kind of.

Peter: It’s Peter, you jerk. Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?

You: Peter who? Doesn’t ring a bell.

Good. Knock him down a few pegs. You giggled to yourself, quickly stopping once you realised why exactly you were kicking your feet like a school girl, for who exactly. You layed back down, head muddled with meaningless thoughts that jumbled as you waited for his response. Grabbing a stuffie, you hugged it close to your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you caught your breath, grounding yourself. Why on earth did this mean so much to you? Why did his texts, something so easily ignorable- suddenly a waiting game?

Peter: Ha ha, very funny pips.

You: How did you even get my number anyways?

Peter: Long story, I had to go on a bit of a hunt. A friend, of a friend of a friend, you get the point. I can be very persuasive ;)

Nope. You thought. Don’t give into this.

You: I’m sure.

Peter: You wanna come over on the weekend or meet at Braxston’s to start… brainstorming?

You: I don’t want to do anything of the sort, but if that gets this over with as soon as possible- then sure. Only one of us has a brain to storm anyways.

Peter: You’ll regret that pips.

You clicked off your phone, a ghost of a smirk on your face. His threat surprisingly didn’t seem like a real threat, but actual light hearted teasing, not the kind he often did.

Fuck. You were supposed to be hating him. You did hate him. It was only three weeks with him. You weren’t sure if you meant that with relief or disappointment.

————————————————————————————

It was disappointment.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your creased temple. It was nearly midnight , and your books were still scattered across the desk you occupied, the library a ghost town considering it was a Friday night. Braxston library tended to be on the empiter side, which is why you preferred it. It was the oldest library on campus, smelling of old pages and cedarwood.

Sometimes, when you needed a break you would get up and run your fingers across the leather spines, or climb the ladder for a change of view of the stained glass windows. But tonight, you lacked the motivation to even bother standing. It had been a long night, filled with cramming and stress. Pen and highlighter stained your hands as you shook them out, cramped and aching. For the last hour you had solely focused on the final you and Peter had to pull out your ass, coming up with backup plans with the worry he would abandon you completely.

Topics, ideas, theories- god you didn’t even know anymore. Your body lacked caffeine, your iced coffee long gone. You grew tired of this mindless work, sliding off your headphones to admire the near empty room around you.

Suddenly, you wished it was completely empty.

Peter looked just as shocked to see you, eyes widening in surprise, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair ruffled and eyebags prominent as if he had fallen asleep and been startled awake.

“Pips? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow?” He made his way over to you, inviting himself to lean over you, on your desk. You stared up at him with a look of amusement.

“We don’t have to meet at all. It’s very bold you assume I’m here to see you, of all people.” you snorted. His eyebrow raised. “So who are you here to meet?”

“Two papers and exam prep. You?”

“More or less the same” he smirked, and you felt butterflies start to churn in your stomach. “Sounds like great fun. I’m sure they’re lovely.” you said, snarky comment slipping out before you could stop it, turning in your seat as you often did around him so he wouldn’t see the fluster and nerves in your demeanour whenever you were near him.

He leaned down, breath warm against the column of your neck. You couldn't breathe. You could not fucking breathe with him this close to you. The rich scent of his cologne made you dizzy, it intoxicated you as you stared at your laptop screen, as if it possessed the knowledge of the entire universe.

“You know, you can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about” you snarled softly, staring at the coy, cockly little smirk you wanted to wipe off his face as he stood. “Sure you don’t.” He nodded his head towards your screen, with a wink.

“Good song.” he smiled, before he was off. You continued to stare at him as he walked out the door, not looking back once. Not a care in the world as he slipped on his own headphones, and around the corner.

Eyes moved down to stare at the pause button of your song, lyrics burning into your ears at the thought of him listening to it- and enjoying it.

Down bad, waking up in blood, staring at the sky, come back over and pick me up- fuck it if I can’t have us, I might just not get up, I might stay down bad.

You were so incredibly fucked.

———————————————————

You took a deep breath. Then another.

You let the crisp, cool night air wash over your burning skin, the faint smell of weed tickling your senses, probably from a house down the street. It was a pretty busy neighbourhood, full of students you recognized from afar on campus. You didn’t associate with the more ‘popular’ kids, if that could even be considered a thing past high school.

You tried to shake off the uneasiness that stuck with you, cracking your knuckles as you tried to prepare yourself to not only see Peter, but to interact with him- in his house. Most likely for hours. You knew you probably looked like a complete idiot out on the sidewalk, just near his house but you had to muster some form of courage.

All you could see was a faint light from what looked like the living room, and a light upstairs- you presumed his room. No sign of life other than that.

You thought of his words, how twisted they sounded. You can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.

Fuck it.

You slipped from your hiding spot (from Peter, you were placed behind a large tree in his front yard, but god knows what people driving by thought), and mentally prepared yourself for his roommates to answer the door, making fun of you before he put the cherry on top. Practically leaping up the porch stairs, you raced to the door, knocking quickly.

You wanted this over and done with. Your palms were clammy and your stomach churned viciously as you heard footsteps near the door. It took everything in you to stay rooted to the ground and to not flee, and when Peter appeared, you feared the opposite.

How the hell you were supposed to move with him in that slutty little fit, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, his v-line and happy trail on full display… his toned abs and arms in a little white muscle shirt… gods you didn’t know. You were sure your tongue fully hung out of your mouth like some cartoon character as you took him in.

“Took you long enough” he said with a snort, adjusting his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. You didn’t even know he had glasses. Did he wear contacts? Had he worn them and you just didn’t notice? No, surely that wasn’t the case, you noticed everything he did. It was like he sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere whenever he walked in a room. It was suffocating, in a way. Of course you had to look at him, and you were sure you weren't the only one.

“I was admiring the greenery.”

“I saw that. I wasn’t sure the maple needed to be examined that long.” he smirked, and your felt your fists instinctively clench.

He had saw you- so you were fucked and now the only logical thing to do was to run into a brick wall. Perfect, got it.

“I enjoy living in the moment, and I don’t take nature for granted.’ you huffed, attempting to compose yourself as he stepped aside, motioning for you to enter. “I’m sure. Don’t worry it was cute.” he smiled, running a hand through his tosseled hair.

You slid off your shoes, setting them next to his worn in converse you always saw him wear. You noticed the other pairs were missing, not even a missing lace to be found.

“Where are your roommates?” you asked as entered, surveying the open space. It was surprisingly tidy for a boys place, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Peter rushing around attempting to clean up before you came (though you doubted he would ever do that). Still, it was nice to think about.

Little traces of “boy” still lingered, silly little signs scattered across the walls, flags and such, empty, crushed beer and poking out from the recycling bins. “I kicked them out, because I figured you would want to contentrate.” he said.

Yeah like I’m going to be able to conetrate with you looking that fucking fine. Ha.

“That’s considerate. I’m surprised you even know what that is, Parker. I’m impressed.”

He snorted, throwing a little look back your way as he lead you up the stairs, presumably to his room. “I’m surprised you know how to walk up stairs. You have Bambi legs.” he teased, mocking your clumsiness. You cursed him internally. Maybe out loud too, judging by his laugh.

You tried to stifle down the butterflies. You were not about to flirt with him. You were not about to let your developing feelings expand. You hated him. He was mean and he was an asshole.

You were simply here to get this project done. That’s it.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know.” was all he said, turning down a hall to an open door, light glowing faintly- beckoning to you. You appreciated his refusal to use the overhead light- not that you’d tell him that. He’d probably look at you like you were insane.

“I see you clean for girls you bring over.” you noted, observing his (surprisingly) decently clean room.

“Bold of you to assume I cleaned. Maybe I’m always this tidy.” he smirked, arms flexing over and behind his head as he sat down in his office chair, man-spreading as he stretched.

You tried so hard not to stare. And failed miserably.

“I would’ve thought you cleaned up for ladies you bring to bed.”

His eyebrows arched. “Should I have prepared then?”

Something like churning fire burned in your belly, slithering lower and lower.

“Don’t start with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it pip.” he smiled coyly, knowing he had gotten you flustered. “May I?” you nodded to his bed, trying to ignore your feelings as you sat down. Fanning your skirt out, you tucked your legs in before opening your bag, attempting to cover your thighs with your bag as much as you could- his cool gaze staring lasers into your bare skin.

“So… if we have to base this on a creature in the wild…”

“Jumping straight to the point aren’t we?” he asked and you frowned in confusion.

“What did you want me to do foreplay or something beforehand?” you asked, your word choice more than intentional. You swore a little pink tinted his cheeks as he swiveled around.

“Right to it then. Okay, I was thinking spiders. Specifically their venom and social behaviours.”

You blinked. Jesus okay he had thought about this. This was not what you were expected.

“Elaborate Parker.”

He smiled. “ From what I’ve seen, not a lot is known about the venom entirely. From a predator-prey aspect.. I’ve mainly seen stuff on specific components evolving to target specific sites on cell membrains of prey tissue, we could work with that to start. Maybe expand on the social aspect and evolution.”

You were stunned. This was… more than you could’ve hoped for. Suddenly you felt bad for all the doubt aimed towards him over the few days leading up to this meeting.

“Hmm. I like it.”

“Did you have any ideas you had brewing in that genius brain of yours?” he asked, making you blush internally.

“I had some stuff just in case, but it was just random jots I’m not too proud of.”

He scoffed. “You came prepared with backup stuff?!”

You just shrugged. “Do you blame me?”

“Kinda.” he laughed. “Start thinking of me more highly pips. I even have access to a brown widow, we could do some experiments.”

You winced at the thought of actually studying a spider up close, but it was part of the job. Whatever could get this done the fastest, and you had to applaud him for providing some of your own evidence you could actually showcase.

He caught your wince, and you could feel the teasing start to start. It was like bait for him, he loved it. “The spider may bite, but I won’t. That is, unless you want me too.” he winked, and you fought the urge not to chuck your laptop at his handsome face.

“You’re gross Parker.”

“Oh I’m sure you think I am. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

You were going to strangle him. “Let’s just focus and get this project done as soon as we can, yeah? Please.”

You riffled through your bag, grabbing different coloured pens and your notebook, skimming through your random thoughts and jots.

“Whatever you say pip.”

“Start researching Parker.” And that was that.

—————————————————————

A few hours had passed, and so far you were quite impressed with how much the two of you had gotten done. For the most part, the two of you had stayed on opposite sides of the room. If he wanted to make a move, he wasn’t physically doing it, and his roommates still hadn’t come home yet.

Though as the hours passed, he had made his way closer to you- ever so slightly. From his desk he nudged over closer and closer, his laptop landing in his lap as he worked.

“What source are you working from right now?” you asked, not bothering to cast your gaze up as you continued to type, fingers flying over the keyboard as you bit your lip in concentration. You failed to notice his eyes darting between your lips and your breasts that poked out slightly as you slouched over, licking his lips hungrily.

“Some research paper. Here.”

You let out a little oomph in surprise as he plopped down beside you, sprawled across his bed as he enveloped you in his makeshift fortress. He stared at you with such longing you felt faint, having to stop your work to pull yourself together.

Fuck.

He nodded towards it, and you realized you had been staring at him longer than you intended, forgetting about the paper completely. “Oh, yeah okay let me look.” you murmured, taking the laptop from his hand to slide it across your lap, the fan whirling softly, the warmth of it adding more coals to the fire you felt already.

He was still staring.

Please look away before I want to kiss you. Or do more then kiss you. I’m supposed to be hating you, stop please.

You tried your best to read and concentrate, but it was next to no use. All you could focus on was him, his fingers drumming on the comforter near your thigh (what man has a comforter anyways?!), and his gaze on you, that was heavy with something. Want, perhaps? Lust? Or you were delusional. Very possible.

“It’s um, it’s good. I like it, I think there’s lots of good… stuff here.”

“Good stuff huh?” he asked sarcastically, a smirk plastered across his face.

He knew. The fucker knew you were down bad.

“Yeah. You know what I mean.” you grumbled, staring back down at your screen.

“I do know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, hand inching closer and closer to your thigh- teasing you. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself.

You could push your hatred aside for just a few minutes. It was okay, just this once. Right?

You bit your lip, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. Nodding to him, as if he could speak to you telepathically.

Yes, this is okay. Please touch me. Just a little, even is fine.

“Maybe you should explain a little more, Parker.”

His fingers skimmed the edge of your skirt, warm to the touch as they stroked your skin softly, just a whisper of him lingering. Goosebumps lingered in their wake, and you pushed your laptop off to the side, not caring where it landed on the bed. Just not next to him.

“How much more?”

His voice was low. Deep. Needing. You wanted more.

Another stroke of his fingers on your thigh, closer to where you wanted him the most made you shiver, toes curling. His gaze never left yours, never faultered. Instead of its usual lightness, his teasing and bullying- his eyes were dark with lust. Nothing but his full attention was on you, and you couldn’t help but shudder as he leaned in closer.

Another hand landed on your thigh. “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough as you nodded quickly. “Mhmmm..- oh!” you let out a little gasp as he swiftly grabbed you, swinging you over to straddle his lap, tossing you as if you weighed nothing.

You hated that you found it hot.

He smirked, leaning forward- so close you could feel his thudding heart with a small hand gesture sliding across his chest, could feel his breath catching. Just a small little gap between his lips and yours.

“You’re going to regret this.” you murdered, fingers curling into his shirt, twisting the soft fabric.

“I won’t. Will you?”

“I might.”

His smile grew.

“ I still hate you, you know.”

“I know. And you look so damn hot when you do.” He pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin, needing you closer and closer despite the two of you practically forming one being.

A clash of teeth and tongue happened, rough and harsh- full of hate and need. A hatred for your need for him. Why did you need him? Of all people?

Because he was so fucking fine.

A hand slipped under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it slightly. You ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it as your hips moved on their own account- causing a groan to slip from his lips.

You’d do anything to hear it again.

“This is so wrong.” was all you could moan as his lips worked their way down your neck, tracing your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.

“I don’t do right, pips. You know this.”

“Mhm. But you hate me.”

He laughed against your skin, and you rocked your hips again, a little slap to your asscheek making you jolt.

“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pips. Whatever you want to think.” he sighed, massaging the skin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

You needed his lips on yours. You didn’t want to even try to decipher what his words meant, your head was foggy with want. You were slipping into a puddle of bliss, finally letting the restraint you held on a tight leash go- freeing the want and pure desire.

Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you hated him. And yes, he teased you. It hurt- but this didn’t. This was a soothe to his constant jabs, a salve to the wounds he caused.

“You feel so good. I want you so bad.” you confessed, causing him to moan again.

Yes. Yes, please.

“You’re killing me.”

“Good. It’s payback for the way you treat me.” you smirked, kissing him again. Hard, fast, rough. Mean.

Until he just… stopped.

Pulled away slightly, making you raise an eyebrow with confusion. His cheeks tinted slightly pink, hair messy and eyes wide with excitement, eager to keep going. To go further. So why did he just- stop?

“Parker?”

He smiled coyly.

“Don’t we have work we need to be doing?” he asked sarcastically- and you felt your stomach drop. He was teasing you. He was doing this just to get under your skin, to leave you high and dry and needing. Knowing damn well nothing could possibly get done now but him.

“You- you just want to get back to work? After that?”

“I want to do the dirtiest things imaginable to you, pips. I want to do so many things. But if we keep going and get nothing done, you’ll regret it and hate me. If we get work done, you’ll hate me too. I rather you hate me but feel secure with this, at least.” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

It was tender, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “So you just, want to work? Did I do something wrong?” you asked.

“Gods no. But it’s too easy if I just give it to you like that. You know me, pips- I tease. Maybe if you’re good and get more work done we can have some harmless, regretless fun.” he winked, sliding his hands down to your hips, picking you up again to toss you gently on his pillows, kissing your hand with a wink as he stood to go back to his desk.

Oh you were fucked. So, so fucked.

“I heard that.” he laughed, and you buried your head in your hands. This was going to be a long three weeks indeed.

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alexispunkkk · 3 months ago

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stress remedy

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

- pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

- summary: after some stressful times with school, peter surprises his pretty girlfriend with some flowers

- warnings: basically nothing, just pure fluffy! some kissing + mentions of stress

- word count: 1.7k

- author’s note: hiii! my first tumblr fanfic ever. requests are open, i’ll be doing mostly peter parker and andrew garfield.

—————————————୨ৎ

Your boyfriend has a busy life, and you truly have no clue how he even manages. Balancing you, schoolwork, his internship at Oscorp, and being a fucking superhero?

Obviously, that’s far too much for many people. But Peter Parker isn’t just anyone — he’s your sweet boy, the one that does it all. Even with all of his duties, the poor guy still is the most perfect boyfriend in the world.

Between the stress of school and work and whatnot, each day is beginning to feel longer and longer. Days were dragging on into colder winter nights, rather than the fun nights in the summer where you and Peter had as much time as you could ever possibly want.

You almost had no time. Coming home from school or work, you’d go right down for a nap, wake up for dinner and homework, then go straight to bed. The only thing keeping you awake for the few dull hours was your wonderful boyfriend.

Tonight was the same: half asleep in bed, your cat cuddled up to your side by force and threatening to escape the cuddles. A few sheets of homework on the desk, obviously undone, the TV on instead.

Peter knows you’ve been having a tough time at school, he’s the most adorably observant person you’ve ever met. And even with all of his own seemingly never-ending issues, he managed to put you above them all.

Your cat finally wriggled out of your arms and leaped out of the bed, scrambling under it at the sound of a knock on the window: Peter’s signature knock, to be exact. Before you can react, the tiny double-tap knock is accompanied by a gorgeous — maybe just slightly crumpled — bouquet of flowers.

They’re strung up by an all too familiar web, dangling down off of the upstairs neighbors’ Juliet balcony.

You felt like such a princess whenever Peter gave you such a dramatic arrival, dangling flowers and snacks or swinging in to surprise you. Only to be more princess-like, you scampered over in your dainty pajama set to the window, opening it and resting your arms delicately on the chilled windowsill.

Your chin soon joined, settling down on top of your forearms adorably, the stupidest grin plastering across your face when Peter finally swings down and takes the flowers off the web.

“Hi, spidey.” You giggled and stood up, opening it further to pull him inside with no effort to be careful.

“Hi, sweet girl.” He beamed back and stumbled into the bedroom with a chuckle, that all too familiar boyish grin crossing his own pretty face.

In seconds, the two of you became a tangled mess of limbs. The flowers were quickly discarded onto the desk, a quick web shooting from his wrist to shut the window and stop the chilly breeze that was slowly infiltrating the room.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you right up into your favorite spot. Your body was suspended up into the air, rested so perfectly flush against his own.

With the quiet giggles and kisses exchanged, your sour and tired mood was forgotten faster than anything.

The familiar feeling of his cold hands traveling under your shirt and across your back was intoxicating as usual, making you want to melt right into him and stay there forever, to forget about all of your worries and just be with him.

Your mind was just Peter. Peter, Peter, Peter.

“Got you a gift. Thought you might need a little pick-me-up with that midterm you’ve got coming up.” He backed up to carefully set you on the edge of the soft bed. The feeling of your head tucked so deep into the crook of his neck and his scent going straight to your heart was quickly missed, but he’ll be back soon enough.

Peter grabbed the flowers off the desk and jumped right onto the bed, earning a playful giggle from you.

“Yeah? When’d you have time to pick those up?” You scramble the second he’s laid down, crawling up the bed to accompany him.

His hands glided up your waist like silk, squeezing your sides under the pretty little lace tank top you’d chosen for pajamas tonight. It was an instinctive behavior for Peter, and you were settled in his lap in no time. No matter how often he touched you like this, it’s always as equally electrifying.

“May or may not have stolen them on the way home from Oscorp tonight.”

Once you were cuddled up in his lap, his hands moved toward your head without thought to card through the locks of your hair, pulling you closer with a quiet, domestic hum.

His words earned a snort from you, exhaling heavily while you settled on top of his body, head instinctively finding its favorite spot in his neck.

“Wow, how special am I? My boyfriend steals me flowers.” You joke, pressing the softest kiss to that sweet spot behind his ear.

In return, his hands moved up your shirt, the tip of his thumbs just barely ghosting the bottom cup of your breasts.

“Shut up, I just wanted an excuse to see you. You’ve been so holed up recently at home.”

Your eyes roll and your arms tighten around his neck, scoffing and feigning annoyance.

“I have not been holed up, thank you very much. Just … studying?” You laugh and shift in his lap, reaching across his now warm body to grab hold of said stolen flowers.

They were pretty, just maybe slightly crumpled up. But that’s the Peter Parker charm: everything had to be a bit messy when it was coming from him.

“Yeah, studying. How’s that going?” He snickers back, running one strong hand up through the top of your hair to expose your face that he was so enamored with.

The feeling of a gentle kiss to your forehead melted your heart like usual, making you both soften up and quit with the teasing.

“Not good,” you sighed, slumping back down and going all limp on top of him, your nose faintly brushing his jawline. “I haven’t done any of my homework. I’m so burnt out.”

Peter’s own face softened at that, looking down at you and brushing more of that hair out of your face to get a proper look. To his suspicion, your faint eyebags looked … well, a little less faint.

“You’ve gotta get some rest, then, baby.” He sighed and brushed his own nose into your hair, pulling your head under his chin to rest there while one hand stroked down the base of your neck.

You opened your mouth to protest, but you knew fighting over things like this with Peter never gave you a win. As much as you love him, he’s so damn insistent — he won’t let you do anything if it’s not all beneficial for your mental health or whatever he’s going on about.

“Fine. I’m not gonna fight you tonight.”

Your hands quickly work down his body, tugging at his belt in an attempt to get it off. He helps you work it off quickly, climbing out of bed for a moment to discard his jeans and coat to get comfier.

You only whined a little bit when he got up. To be fair, both of you were awfully clingy, not just you.

“Good, you’re not touching that laptop again. Not after that essay you spent all of our time on the other day.” Peter says, and the second the clothing hits the floor you pull him back down with a quiet giggle.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

He’s tugged nice and close quickly, so perfect against your body. The comfort of your bed has warmed his body up and he’s just in heaven with you wrapped up in his arms.

“No, don’t wanna go to bed.” Your face turns into a pout at his comment, stuffing right into his neck like always. “Let’s just talk. Get my mind off of school. Please?”

As convincing as you attempted to be, the yawn threatening to pull at your lips and the clingy nature you only fell into when you’re really tired gave you away.

“Baby, c’mon. Look at you. All pretty, but exhausted.” He cooed and chuckled, stroking the back of your hair to pull your head back under his chin the way he likes.

Quiet, protesting giggles escape your mouth, but when he keeps trying to pull you closer you’re on the verge of giving in.

At the sound of your constant stubborn whines at the simple thought of going to bed, Peter knows he’ll have to step it up.

“Come on. I’m not gonna be able to sleep myself if I know you’re stressed out. Let’s go to sleep, sweetheart.”

The gentle tone of his voice and slight puppy eyes urged you further and you truly can’t help it in that moment. A sigh escaped your mouth and you reluctantly moved closer, pulling the covers over the two of you.

“Fuck off. Fine.” You yawned once you finally allowed yourself to, letting your body go limp against him.

“There you go. Just close those pretty eyes, yeah? They look heavy.” He whispers, making sure the comforters are over you in every spot, not letting a sliver of skin exposed to the cold air when you could be snuggled with him.

Your protesting let up every time Peter whispered in your ear, the sweet words setting your mind right into a sleepy state. Little “love you’s” and “I’m right here’s” were so quick to ease your mind every time, even at your most stressed state.

“So easy to bribe.” He chuckles against your head once you’re asleep, pressing a last kiss to the top before shutting his own eyes. “G’night, baby. Love you. Always.”

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gloomskulls · 4 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚LIMERENCE [tasm!peter parker]

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

part 2

⇢ ˗ˏˋ SUMMARY ୨୧ For Peter Parker, the deepest secret is not being Spider-Man. It's that he likes you, no he loves you, wants you in any imaginable way possible. After years of quietly admiring you from a distance, everything changes after a biology project that partners you two together. Peter sees a glimpse of chance to get nearer to you, but the line of affection and obsession begins to blur

⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNING ୨୧ obessive peter, creep peter, stalking, masturbation, panty sniffing, dirty thoughts, breaking in, just peter being hopelessly in love. If any of this finds you uncomfortable, please click out do yourself (and me also) a favor. lemme know if I missed any! MINORS DO NOT READ

If you don't want to see my dark stories in the future please block the tag #madi: dark content

A/n: my first ever fic posted on Tumblr, yippee! This is also my first ever smut so it probs be equivalent to horse poo but anyways, this also takes place in tasm 2. don't steal any of the shit I've written or else i'm gonna turn you into Vicky from Terrifier/srs

Peter didn't understand what was so special about you, you were just a crush. Or that's what he convinced himself. Every single place you were in, Peter would carefully trail behind you, like there was a magnet strapped onto you, and Peter was the metal, he would always find himself drawing next to you. Peter Parker was no stranger to keeping secrets. It was, after all, the epitome of his double life. A mask, a costume, a name that wasn't his at all. There was one secret, however, that even the Spider-Man's mask couldn't cover—his growing infatuation towards you.

It started out really simple. You decided to give back the nerdy boy's pencil in sophomore year and defended him from Flash Thompson in his junior year, it was all simple really, something a person with decency and was taught with proper manners would do. But Peter took it as more than that.

Candid photos here and there, purposefully falling of his skateboard so you would help him, cryptic notes in your locker, sometimes a random flower if Peter was lucky to find any.

Limerence, as some might say

The first people who would ever notice Peter's strange behavior where the people who raised him. Uncle Ben would notice this girl in the screen of his nephew's computer, so did Aunt May when she saw many polaroid photos of the same face underneath Peter's bed. Peter shrugged it off, saying the same exact words to the both of them.

'she's just a crush'

Peter Parker was very good at being hidden in the open. Sure, he didn't want to be invisible, but it is what it is. One of the self-working "losers" with horrible punchlines and pretty much the face screaming "nerd". Well, it didn't bother Peter much. He had many other more important things to think about. You

It's been years now. It was already the last year of senior year, graduation was already nearing, still, he hasn't mustered up the courage to do speak to you, afraid that you won't reciprocate the same feelings he has. His been watching you from a distance, stealing glances in class and making mental notes on all the little things you did, like doodling on the corners of your notebooks or, how you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were concentrating. He knew that it was weird, creepy even, but Peter couldn't stop himself.

So, when Mr. Warren announced a paired project for biology, Peter's internal monologue kicked into overdrive.

"Pair work begins today," Mr. Warren said, his smile a gruff overture that still Peter thought unnecessary. "Choose your partners wisely, just choose somebody you will along with. You can really screw up over this project if you don't!"

The room broke out into a low buzz as students shuffled their chairs and moved toward their friends. Peter didn't move. He never did. Choosing a partner was like finding a needle in a haystack type of task for him

Alright, Pete, it is not such a big deal. You are not going to end up with her or anything. Just relax, find someone cool, and—

"Peter!"

Your voice broke through his thoughts, and he looked up to see you in front of his desk, clutching a notebook to your chest

"By any chance do you have a partner? My friends kind of made their own pairs" you asked, your lips curving into an easy smile.

Peter blinked. His brain short-circuited.

"N-nope. I'm totally solo. Flying solo. A lone wolf. A…"

"Awesome! Then let's team up."

Peter turned to you, his mind racing, he blinked, trying to absorb this. You were choosing him? He nodded frantically; his heart was hammering at a top speed that he was convinced you could hear it

You smiled at him, you fucking smiled at him

For the rest of the class Mr. Warren instructed everyone to plan for the project for the rest of the class. You kept bouncing ideas back and forth, and Peter felt a strange, thrilling sensation of in his heart. You were funny, clever, and surprisingly very easy to communicate with. Every time you laughed at one of his jokes, he felt like he was soaring.

When the bell rang, you packed your things and turned to him. "We should work on this at my place. Tomorrow after school?"

Peter nearly dropped his notebook. "Uh, yeah. Totally. I mean, yes. That works. Perfect. So super normal."

You laughed again. "Cool. Here's my address."

And with that, you scribbled it on a scrap of paper and handed it to him before walking away, leaving Peter frozen in his seat.

That night, Peter was sitting in his room staring at the address. To most people, that was just a little detail, probably not even worth a second thought. But to Peter, it was an invitation, or perhaps a key, even just for a second to get into your life. To know every little thing about you

Unfortunately, though, that's not enough.

He felt his hands shaking as he opened the drawer in his desk to reveal a small trove of hidden treasures; poorly taken pictures of you from a distance, bits of paper that you had thrown away during math class, and a small stash of hair strands that he meticulously collected from your hair comb when you weren't looking

This was love, wasn't it? The desperate consuming desire to be around her, to know everything about you.

And tomorrow, he shall get his chance.

You invited him, but Peter just knew it was really more than what you would ever willingly give.

His love was a web, and you were stepping into it, one delicate thread at a time.

Peter stood outside your house with a crumpled piece of paper clutched in his rather sweaty hand. The address on it was correct, but doubt clouded him. What if she had forgotten about this meeting? What if this was simply a joke? No, she would never do that, he tried to convince himself

Peter Parker was standing at your porch. Each thump of his heart sounded like one of the drums in the music club. He raised his hand to knock, hesitating for a moment. Maybe it was a terrible idea to come here after all; he could fake being sick, sending her an apology while rescheduling. Just then, the door swung open before he even had the chance to run.

"Hey, you found my house, I actually thought you would get lost cause I wrote the wrong color of the rooftop on the note" you said while stepping aside to let him enter.

"I was actually hesitant to knock, because it didn't look like the description" He quietly said. You actually got everything right, I was just being a huge pussy so I didn't come immediately, he thought to himself.

"Come in. I have started working on the diagram."

Peter plasted a grin and forced his legs down inside. "Well, look at you. Overachieving already. I guess I'll just sit back and let you do all the hard work."

You rolled your eyes and laughed, your voice making him feel that the world wasn't so bad after all. "Nice try, Parker. Grab a marker. You're on label duty."

"Come on, we can work in the dining area," you said, leading him across the house.

The dining table was already loaded with supplies, with textbooks scattered everywhere, colored pencils, sheets of poster paper, you name it. You positioned herself and gestured to him to join you.

You fell into a rhythm, your hand sketching the parts of the circulatory system while Peter scrawled out the labels in his neatest handwriting. He cracked jokes every few minutes, drawing out your laughter like a lifeline. It would be so easy to lose himself in the moment, pretend that you both were just two friends hanging out and not a guy hopelessly infatuated with someone who didn't even know half the truth about him.

Both of you had a relatively smooth first hour of working, few questions were asked here and there on the project. Peter kept his answers short, being extra cautious with what to share, but it seemed you did not mind. You sketched diagrams, jotting down notes with an ease that made Peter's hands tremble every time he made an attempt to help.

"So Peter," you suddenly announced after the silence, "why is it that you don't talk very much? At school I mean"

The question staggered him, rendering him blank while the colored pencil just hovered above the page.

Peter jerked up his head and looked surprised. "What do you mean? Talking is what I do. I mean, there's even people begging me to stop."

You smirked but didn't let it down. "I mean really, you're funny but I know nothing about you. What's your thing, Peter Parker?"

He didn't answer immediately but fiddled with the marker. "I'm just… some guy. Pretty boring, honestly. Not much to tell."

Your expression softened, "I don't buy that. You're not boring".

Your words made Peter's chest tighter. He wanted to believe you, yet the voice at the back of his mind reminded how wrong youwere. If you only knew the real him, the guy who had spent countless nights staring at your window, memorizing your every move, you wouldn't be smiling and sitting here before him.

"Hey, don't overthink it. You're cool. Let's just finish this masterpiece, okay?" you said, flicking his arm before he could answer.

Peter smiled forcedly

And when they finished the day's work, you walk him to the door once more, your smile as warm as ever.

"Thanks for coming over," you said. "You're actually a pretty decent partner, Parker."

"Decent?!" Peter gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. "Wow. Don't hold back; tell me how you really feel."

And you laughed, shaking your head. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Peter waved. You waved back at him, as he strolled down the street, but he did not go very far. Instead, he found himself across the street in the same place, hidden under the shadow of the oak tree.

you were in your living room again, curled around a blanket and a pillow as you watched whatever was on your screen, your face glowing softly from the light of the television. Peter leaned against the tree with both hands shoved in his jacket pockets and simply watched.

How long he'd been there, he couldn't tell, but he didn't want to leave. This was the closest he ever felt with you, even if you didn't know he was here.

He knew this was crossing the line, but he couldn't help himself. He found himself sneaking into your house. Now he really felt like a robber trying to intrude a home, expect he wasn't really going to steal anything, or so he thought.

It was late at night, you and your family were already asleep at this point

Peter knew that the right thing to do was to head home. He knew for sure that this crossed a line even he wasn't sure he could come back from. But before he could stop himself, he was moving, slipping across the street and into the shadows of your yard.

His palms were slick with sweat as he scanned the side of the house. The metal trellis leading up to your window wasn't very solid, but it would hold him if he was careful.

He carefully climbed the trellis, not putting too much weight on it. And his heart was pounding as he got to your window, his fingers brushing against the cool glass.

It wasn't locked.

At that moment, his body froze. The rational part of him screamed to stop, to climb back down and pretend this never happened. But then his hand was on the window. And that soft sound of it sliding open seemed to be deafeningly loud in the stillness of the night.

He slipped into his feet and landed silently on the carpeted floor. Your room smelled of lavender and something warm and sweet like vanilla. A little bit of moonlight filtered through the curtains and brightened the room in pale silver.

There she was

You laid curled up in your bed, the blankets pulled up to your shoulders, your face peaceful in sleep. Peter’s breath caught in his throat. You looked so serene, so utterly perfect, that it made his chest ache.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity, just watching you. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to feel—satisfaction, maybe, or relief. But all he felt was a strange mix of awe and guilt.

This was wrong.

He knew it.

But he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

He looked around your room, it was full of polaroids of either you or your friends.

He started walking around your room quietly, careful to not wake you up in your slumber, because God knows what will happen if you saw him in your room with all its glory, he couldn't even imagine the disgust on your face.

But one thing caught his eye

Your bathroom was open, and in your bathroom was a basket with what he assumed inside were dirty laundry.

He knew it was disgusting, heck, over the top creep award would probably go to him, but he found himself walking towards the bathroom. It was wrong, but he still did it, he needs to get help, he thought to himself.

One second ago he was walking towards your bathroom, next thing you knew he was rummaging through your dirty laundry, occasionally smelling some of your shirts. He cherished the way your scent overwhelmed his nose, he was in Cloud 9.

While he was rummaging, a little piece of clothing caught his eye. With shaky hands he picked up the piece of clothing, it was your pink underwear with little cherries scattered everywhere as design.

He brought it near to his nose. He suddenly sat down in the neat cold tiles of the bathroom floor, he smelt it as if it was his oxygen.

He let out a small moan. He didn't know if it was an invisible force making him do such things, but he found his hands unbuttoning his pants

Peter Parker sat in the rest room; hand clasped tight around the lacy edge of the pink panty. He took out his hardened length of his boxers. The scent of dirty panties wafted his nose.

He imagined you wrapped around his throbbing cock, he thought of the feeling of your tight little pussy riding his cock, he wanted the sweet nectar from your lips, while having a feast on your quivering hole. His cock throbbed in his palms, his hands were much faster now, stroking his hardened cock. He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from moaning

Why was he doing this? You were literally there, outside the bathroom, sleeping. And Peter was here, out in the open, jerking off to the smell of your used panties

He was drenched in sweat as his hairs stuck to his wet forehead. He fantasized about your perky tits; perfect little nipples erect in anticipation. Pumping the shaft rapidly, imagining you on all fours begging for more, the bounce of your tits while riding him moaning his name like a mantra, Peter, fuck Peter, Peter, oh my God!

Peter was breathing heavily, his release was near, he profusely pumped his manhood, his hands and cock covered in his sticky pre-cum.

He wanted to feel you inside him, want you to quiver in pleasure as he fucks you over and over again.

He felt a sudden wave of pleasure hitting him, before he knew it, he released a flooded torrent of jizz into sticky cum as it scattered all over the floor. He slumped against the wall, heaving as he tried to steady his racing heart. He looked outside the door, finding you in the same spot as you were. You were sleeping oh so peacefully

He gazed at you, his heart full of unfulfilled yearning. He desperately wanted to be part of your world, to be someone you chose to let in. Yet no matter how many jokes he made or how close you seemed; he knew deep in his heart that he was not enough.

A soft sound broke the silence.

Peter's eyes snap to the bed, and his stomach lurch at the realization that you were stirring. Your brows knitted, your breathing started shifting, just as if you were going to wake up.

He immediately threw your panties back into the basket as he stood up and fixed his underwear and pants

He felt panic surging him, he immediately sprinted near the window. It made a loud a thud, now he was fucked

He moved quickly and quietly without thinking as he quietly ran towards the window. Just as you were about to opene your eyes, he slipped stealthily past the fluttering of curtains.

He tried scrambling down the trellis and found the ground, shivering and shaking as he did so.

He was hidden in a shadow corner, looking up towards your window. You were sitting up now, rubbing your eyes and looking around your room with a sleepy confusion.

Peter's chest tightened.

What's the matter with him?

He hurried as he turned away, his footsteps quiet against the pavement

The cool night air wrapped around Peter Parker like a cold, suffocating blanket as he walked back toward his house. Each step seemed to slant further and further as if his sneakers were scuffing wet against the cracked pavement in a slow and deliberate rhythm.

It was as if the world had gone still—entirely quiet. No cars were heard, no distant chatter, no hum of the city. Just Peter, the quiet whistle of wind through leaves, and the pounding thuds of his thoughts.

With that, he shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets, his fingers curling into tight fists. Replaying the scene, he heard the soft sound of your breathing, the warmth of your room, and the way you stirred in your bed as if you had felt him there.

What the heck are you doing, Parker? He hadn't intended to climb into your room. He hadn't intended for it to get this far. Watching from the shadows was one thing, but tonight… tonight he had crossed a line.

He stopped moving and leaned against the lamppost, his breath escaping him in short, sharp gasps. Above him, the light flickered, shining unevenly across his shadow on the ground.

"This isn't me," he whispered to himself, the voice trembling.

But wasn't it?

Hadn't he been staring at you for years, taking notes while you weren't looking, memorizing all of your movements, laughter, and smiles? He had told himself that it was just harmless admiration from a distance, but now it was clear.

What would you think if you knew?

He sighed, Peter threw back his head and gazed up at the sky. Above him the stars, though cold and distant, seemed on to him— judging him in silence.

With the words of Uncle Ben echoing in his mind, With great power comes great responsibility, Peter winced.

Peter's jaw clamped down. Not great power; not yet. But wasn't all this part of it? Taking responsibility for his actions, owning up to his mistakes before they spiraled uncontrollably out of hand?

It hit him like a gut punch.

He wouldn't ever be able to take it back. Nor would he ever be able to wipe away the fact that he'd violated your space, your privacy, in a way you might never forgive. But he could stop it from going any further. He could ensure that you never found out.

@gloomskulls 2024. DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE ANY OF MY WORKS HERE OR ANY OTHER WEBSITES. Photos don't belong to me

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devilfic · 1 year ago

Text

❝late-bloomer❞

plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.

a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha

Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"

You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.

You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."

No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.

But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."

"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."

"I'm serious, Pete."

He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."

"How did it feel? Do you know?"

"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."

Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.

You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."

You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.

A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."

Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"

A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.

You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.

But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.

Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.

But it wasn't laughing you worried about.

"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.

Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."

Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.

Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.

"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"

There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."

Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"

"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."

"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.

You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.

It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."

You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."

You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.

Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."

It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."

"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"

"I really don't want to. Move."

"Why are you shutting me out?"

"Because I want to go home. Move."

"Is it because of what I said?"

"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."

The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.

Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.

"I'll see you later, Pete."

You let his front door shut on its own.

It hasn't been great.

What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.

You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.

So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.

It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.

And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.

Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.

You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-

He's sitting in your kitchen.

Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."

Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."

Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"

"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.

You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."

"Busy avoiding your best friend."

You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.

The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.

"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."

Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.

"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."

"It's not a big deal?"

"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."

"So it doesn't matter at all."

"Correct."

"Right."

"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."

You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.

Suddenly, you're released.

You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."

You smile, "And I appreciate that."

Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"

"Zilch. Nada."

"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."

You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"

"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."

Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."

"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"

"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."

"And now we do."

"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"

He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."

You're six years old again.

You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.

You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.

And you're thinking... you start thinking something.

You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.

Peter's still staring at you, waiting.

Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.

But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.

You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.

When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.

Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."

Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.

Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."

He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."

You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.

Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.

You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.

You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"

You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"

Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."

"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."

"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"

"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."

"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."

Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"

His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."

You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.

Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."

"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"

"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"

You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."

You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.

This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.

So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.

Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.

You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"

You nod, speechless.

Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."

You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."

Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."

"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"

"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"

You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.

He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.

Did it? You stare up at Peter.

"We can try as many times as you want."

You might have a very different problem than you started with.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

#peter parker x reader #peter parker scenarios #peter parker imagines #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman scenarios #spiderman imagines #spiderman fic #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #andrew garfield #spider-man #mjwrites #tasm #fandom; marvel

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uhhhj13iguess · 8 days ago

Text

i should've kissed you

avenger!peter parker x fem!reader

summary: the five times peter almost kissed you and didn't, and the one time he finally did

kind of a song fic based off of 'i should've kissed you' by one direction lmao, no lyrics though! just heavily inspired from

UM LMFAO 5.3K WORDS I KNOW THATS RIGHT

masterlist

peter fell back harshly onto his bed, a groan escaping his lips. he ran his hands over his face roughly before throwing his hands down to his side in frustration, small punches made at his mattress as he stared up at his ceiling.

he took a few deep breaths, cringing as he replayed the ending of your and peter's date in his mind.

the date had been going perfectly. in fact, peter had yet to be convinced the entire night wasn't a dream as he walked you back through the halls of the avengers tower after your dinner that evening.

everything felt so right, and he knew you felt it too. you were laughing at all of his jokes, small touches on his arm: for once in his life, he was being smooth. and for once in his life, it was actually working.

as you approached your door, you turned to face him, hand reaching out to meet his. he grabbed it with a smile, squeezing it gently and taking a step closer to you.

"i had a really good time tonight, pete. i'm really glad you asked me out." you looked up at him, nothing but love in your eyes. he melted just looking at them.

he smiled softly back at you. "i am too. i'd really love to do it again sometime, (y/n)."

"me too," you spoke in a whisper.

peter reached up to brush hair out of your eyes, tucking it gently behind your ear. you looked at him through your long lashes, a blush apparent across your features. you leaned into his touch and he held his hand there against your cheek, beaming at you. your eyes flickered down to his lips before returning to meet his gaze, lightly chewing on your own lips.

holyshitholyshitholyshit, okay. calm down. this is it. you have the signal, this is going to be awesome, just lean in and --

and he... didn't? wait, why am i not leaning in? kiss her, goddamn it!

peter stood there frozen, a look of awe still adorning his features as he stared at you. you gave him yet another soft smile, reaching up to grab his hand from your cheek. you gave it a quick squeeze before letting it go at his side.

"'night pete. i'll see you tomorrow?"

you reached for your door knob, giving him an eager look with a grin still plastered across your face.

he nodded feverntly, choking out a quiet "y-yeah, of course,"

you nodded and gave him a small wave before disappearing behind your door.

peter remained frozen for a few more seconds, still staring where you no longer stood in front of him. his eyes widened and he let out a shakey breath.

"holy shit, i should've kiss her."

peter let out another groan at the memory, rolling over to bury his head in his pillow.

he had just went on the most perfect date with the woman of his dreams. there's already no way the entire thing wasn't just the most beautiful dream he'd ever had, and there's no WAY he fucked up taking his chance to kiss you. he truly could not believe himself.

peter let out a damn near pathetic whine into his pillow as he replayed the moment for what would come to be many times that night.

"i don't know ned, i just... froze!"

"you just froze? are you fucking with me right now?"

peter let a sigh out as he placed his phone on speaker, setting it on his desk so he could finish pulling on his shirt. he wanted to call ned before running out to get coffee with you that next morning, and the more he spoke, the more he regretted it.

"i wish i was. i actually cannot describe to you how much i wish i was."

he heard ned let out another "dude" as he messed with his hair in the mirror.

"she's never going to talk to me again, is she?"

"dude, she's never going to look at you again. i don't know how much more to say you were already punching over your weight here, and somehow still landed the date, and you just fumbled it?? i mean, you went on a date with like, the woman of all women, and you didn't kiss her goodnight?!? i, i can't-"

"ughhh, ned you're not helping!!"

"what do you want me to say, dude? there's no way you fucked up this hard. you have to get in there and kiss her before you don't get the chance to fuck it up again."

peter let out a sigh as he picked up his phone, taking it off speaker and bringing it to his ear.

"do you think she's going to even give me another chance?" he asked solemnly, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

"you really better hope she does."

"fuck."

peter ended the call and grabbed his belongings, shaking off his not-so-helpful call with ned and heading downstairs to meet you out front. he had to admit it, he was relieved to see you still showed up. your patience with him must've been god-given, and he wasn't going to mess this up again.

"hey, you" peter called out to you, earning a smile in his direction as you turned back to see him.

"hey, pete. how'd you sleep?"

"good, you?" he lied through his teeth as if his disastrous decision allowed him one second of rest last night.

but you gave him yet another smile, and his nerves around the whole situation seemed to go away.

"good. ready to go? i'm starting to think if i don't get some caffeine in me soon, you're not going to want that second date." you laughed, beginning to walk down the street as peter joined your side.

"highly doubtful," he said with a nudge at your arm. "so you had a good time? last night, i mean?"

you nodded eagerly, your eyes lighting up as soon as you thought about the date.

"the best."

peter smiled at you, "good."

over the course of the walk over, you picked up normal conversation and peter felt relief wash through his body as he began to realize maybe he didn't blow his chance. he grew more confident, flirting with you and even interlocking your fingers together as he felt your hand brush his.

you blushed like a madman at the action, but gladly accepted as you rounded the corner to the coffee shop you and peter often frequented, even before he had expressed his feelings to you.

peter was feeling good again. he did his best to shake his attempt from last night and just plan for the next one. he got back in his groove, doing everything he could do to woo you. he grabbed the door to the shop for you, paid for your coffee, and pulled your stool out at the counter. he had this.

he picked up a conversation about something sam and bucky had gotten into this week, earning nothing but full belly laughs from you. peter felt on top of the world hearing your laugh, his smile faltering slightly as he watched you bring your coffee to your lips. he took a deep breath, his senses immediately overwhelmed as he saw you repeat the gesture towards him, the two of you silently flickering between eye contact and staring at the other's lips.

he didn't know who moved first, but you both began to lean closer to one another, whispers of your conversation falling on deaf ears as he focused on not missing his shot this time.

okay parker, you've got this. she's right here, all you have to do is just... kiss her. okay? just, for fucks sake just kiss her

you sat inches away from his face, once again staring up at peter through your lashes, batting them softly at him.

signal! that's the signal! peter! lean! in!

and again, he just... didn't?? there's no chance in hell he messed this up a second time. what the fuck is wrong with him.

the vibrations of his phone on the counter startled you both, earning a chuckle from you as he muttered an apology, picking up the phone. his face bright red.

"i, yeah? oh, yeah we can be there shortly. yeah. okay mr. stark, thanks."

he ended the call with a sad smile in your direction.

"tony wants us at the tower for a meeting asap." he let out with a breathy laugh, looking down at his hands.

he expected to look up and see disappointment in your eyes, but he was caught off guard when all he was met with was sincerity. you gave him a smile, grabbing his hand and giving it a small kiss before pulling him from the counter.

"no worries! it's not like we weren't going to get coffee tomorrow again anyways."

peter gave you a thankful smile, sliding out of the cafe with you, hand in hand. you were so quick to jump back to your usual self, carrying on your conversation like nothing happened. peter, however, was still absolutely distraught.

there's no way he fucked this up for a second time.

and there's no way you were as forgiving with him as you were about it. a second time.

jesus christ, he needed to get his shit together.

it had been a few days since the coffee shop incident, and since he'd been able to get you alone. he had swung by your room, wondering if you wanted to knock out some training with him. sure, sparring wasn't the most romantic, but he was desperate for any chance that came his way at this point.

this led to the two of you being in your current position, sweaty and out of breath, taking turns swinging at each other. you weren't much of a match against peter, but training seemed like a good enough excuse for you to spend some time with him.

peter let out a grunt as he dodged your right hook, immediately sensing your follow up hit and catching your wrist mid-air.

"that's good! if you're fighting against Dum-E, maybe."

you rolled your eyes at him, a scoff escaping your throat. "yeah, right, didn't he leave you quite the egg on your forehead last week?"

"i couldn't see, tony shut the lights off on me in the lab." peter grumbled, throwing a few punches your way only for you to dodge them with ease.

"stop pulling your punches so much, parker, I'm not fragile."

peter smirked at you, letting out a mumbled "as you wish" before instantly sweeping your feet from under you and pinning you against the mat. your back hit the ground with a thud, earning a heavy whine from you as you closed your eyes.

"oh, is this what you wanted?" peter teased, feeling cocky as he held your arms on either side of your head, his hips holding yours to the mat.

you fluttered your eyes open, a breath hitching in your throat as you realized the position you were in: peter on top of you for the first time ever, nose to nose. both of you were panting, from the exercise or the situation, neither of you knew.

peter felt hot. every part of him felt so hot, and he had to actively will his blood to stay in the upper half of his body ashe hovered over you. he took a moment away from his pride to realize how he had you under him, and his senses were overwhelmed again. his ears felt like they were going to burn off the sides of his head as you looked at him, again using the moment to flicker down to his lips. he licked them subconsciously, earning a barely audible whine from you as he did.

so help me god, if you don't kiss her right now, no spider-man for a week. a week!

but despite him pleading with his body to take action, he just couldn't seem to move and seal the deal. he muttered to himself, begging his body to respond and do something.

come on, come on, come on! why?!

peter barely got to see the smirk flash across your face before you moved, quickly flipping him and switching the position to pin him and take dominance.

he let out a groan as his back hit the mat, a half cough/half laugh escaping his lips.

"fuck, (y/n),"

you gave peter a grin, releasing your grip on his wrists and climbing off of him. you extended your hand outwards, peter reluctantly grabbing it to stand.

"never let your guard down, parker. you'll lose all the control."

he let out a scoff and a "yeah whatever," as he met you face to face again. "i let that happen. so, so you could get the practice, obviously."

you placed a hand on his cheek, giving it a soft pat. "I'm sure you did, bug boy."

peter rolled his eyes, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into him swiftly. you let out a soft gasp, your lips nearly grazing each others once again.

he leaned in so that your foreheads were pressed together, a hand still holding your wrist mid-air. he let out a deep laugh, his hot breath on your lips sending goosebumps across your skin. "funny that you think you're the one in--"

"little spider! lady (y/l/n)! i was hoping for some willing contenders this afternoon!" thor roared as he announced his presence in the gym.

peter let out a heavy sigh, dropping your wrist. "... control,"

you gave him an apologetic smile before greeting thor as he made his way over.

"holy shit, i might have to kill myself over this." peter whispered to himself.

"what was that, pete?"

"i said i think thor's going to kill us."

third time's not the fucking charm, to say the least.

yet another few days passed with no success on peter's front, and he was growing more worried with each passing moment that he'd never get to kiss you.

he seriously had no idea what was wrong with him and why he kept freezing, despite everything inside him pleading to just. kiss. you.

you had decided you wanted to plan the second date, finally getting to steal peter away after a week since the last time you'd gone out. on the menu for the evening was an in-house movie night in the lounge, fit with any and every star wars movie for peter to choose from. you'd brought in every pillow and blanket you'd owned, even stealing the ones from steve's bed on your way over. you loaded the couch with the bedding, shooting a text peter's way with instructions to bring drinks and to wear his pajamas. you swapped your phone for the remote, carefully getting the tv loaded as you heard footsteps enter the room.

"shit, pete you were quick, i'm kind of impressed-- oh, hey wanda!" you turned and saw the red-headed woman before you, amazed at the scene laid out in front of her.

"it looks great in here, (y/n). are you going to be watching a movie?"

you gave her a sweet smile. "yeah, peter's on his way down."

"this looks so relaxing, do you mind if vis and i join you? we're quiet movie watchers, i promise!"

you paused for a second, flashing a quick smile to hopefully hide some of your disappointment.

"oh! well, i..."

"hey (y/n), i grabbed you an apple juice, i didn't see grape in there. is this a movie night? I have a sneaking su-- oh! hey wanda, are you joining in too?" peter waltzed into the lounge, freezing when seeing both you and wanda in the designated location of his texts.

wanda looked in your direction, and you couldn't say no to that face (no matter how badly you wanted to right now).

"yeah, that's okay with me. what do you think, pete?"

he nodded quickly, hoping he was following you correctly as he hoped to grasp any context to the situation. "yeah no, i mean that's, of course."

wanda let out a squeal of excitement, rushing out of the room. "i'm going to grab vision, thanks guys! this is going to be awesome!"

you gave peter an apologetic smile as he walked closer to you, handing you the aforementioned drink.

"I didn't know we were already up to double dates." peter gave you a soft smirk.

"i didn't either," you pouted, grabbing a seat on the couch and patting the cushions next to you. "i'm sorry, pete. i'll make it up to you."

peter sat down, giving you a chuckle as he settled into the corner of the couch, grabbing your hands gently. "i'm happy wherever you are."

he was even more happy to discover the viewing of the evening was a star wars movie of his own picking.

the four of them settled in, wanda and vision wasting no time getting comfortable curling into one another. peter noticed this, feeling more at ease in putting his own arm around you. you reciprocated gladly, leaning into his side and swinging your legs over his. peter felt his sense of touch heighten by a thousand, the feeling of you against him pushing him into overdrive.

he took a deep breath to steady himself, wrapping you up tighter and focusing his best on your heartbeat. he'd never held you this close before, and he could swear it was the best thing he'd ever felt.

time passed and you and peter melted into each other, fully engrossed in the movie as you heard a rumble in his stomach. you laughed quietly, lifting your head from his chest.

"hungry, parker?"

he blushed and nodded sheepishly, hearing the giggles of wanda in the background.

"y-yeah, i guess so. i can throw on some popcorn, if you guys want some too?" he looked around the room.

vision shot up, beaming. "ah! i have just learned this recipe, allow me! i will be back momentarily." he voiced before phasing out of the room.

wanda stood up quickly. "last time he made the popcorn, we had to call the fire department. i'll be right back, keep watching!"

she ran out of the room, the frantic nature of the situation making you giggle. peter looked over to you, relief washing over him as he got to have you alone, even if just for a few minutes. that was all he needed.

you looked up to face him, a blush creeping on your cheeks as you noticed how close your faces were.

peter took a deep breath and smiled at you. "are you going to tony's gala on friday?"

you looked back up at him. "yeah, although i don't think i've got a single thing to wear. look at what i'm wearing right now, peter," you gestured downwards. "we're talking about an event that he's invited adele to."

"you're saying these sweats weren't what you had in mind? shit, i'm gonna need to rethink some things." peter made a thinking face and feigned concern.

you both laughed quietly, soaking in the presence of one another. you shiftly slightly in his lap so you could reach your hand to his curls, gently beginning to play with them. "i take that as you plan on going as well?"

he nodded against your hand, taking the other one in his own. he cleared his throat.

"i was... i was actually wondering if, if you wanted to come with me. like, as my... my date?"

your face lit up in an instant and any reservations peter held in his mind were gone. you smiled so wide it became contagious, peter grinning back at you with a shy laugh, no longer able to hold eye contact.

your hand previously in his hair dropped to his chin, earning his gaze once again. "i'd love to, peter. that sounds really fun."

at this point, your fingers were delicate on his chin and ghosting over his features, all attention focused on peter's pink lips.

he took a deep breath, taking in your proximity and touch. he was on fire again.

peter parker, she is literally touching your lips with her fingers! do something! now!

but he just sat there, breathing you in as your hand now confidently rested on his jawbone and your thumb tugged gently at his bottom lip.

but he just sat there, staring at your lips the entire time, not touching them.

"pete?" you asked as you bumped your noses together. he flickered his eyes back up to yours.

"yeah?"

you let out a shakey breath, fluttering your eyes closed. "i... i-"

your eyes shot open and you pulled back sharply. "what's that smell?"

peter let out a whine as he lost your attention, his mouth hung open.

wanda came bursting through the door. "sorry guys! just a mild fire, but we put it out! i hope you like your popcorn a little... uh, charred."

she grimaced as she handed the two of you a bowl, completely unable to read the room.

vision followed in shortly, taking his seat back next to wanda. "my sincerest apologist. all fires have been extinguished and i have alerted mr. stark about the damage to his cabinets. he has a... guy on speed dial now."

you let out a laugh, thanking them for the popcorn and turning back to face the screen, once again snuggling into peter who remained slack-jawed and in disbelief.

i'm dead. i'm dead and i'm in a state of limbo for eternity. what the actual fuck is going on.

the four of you finished the first two star wars movies before calling it quits, you admitting how tired you'd grown over the evening. peter, on the other hand, had been sulking since wanda and vision came back in almost three hours ago now.

his spirits rose slightly, however, as you kissed him on the cheek before you bid goodnight to everyone, sending him one last smile before turning the corner.

ned was NOT going to believe this one.

when peter had picked you up friday night and saw you in your gown, he vowed to himself that he wouldn't bother coming home if he didn't kiss you.

you were the most stunning person he'd ever seen, a red dress adorning your body in all the best ways possible.

a red dress. his color. lord. have. mercy.

the night went accordingly, both of you mingling with the rest of the team, exchanging glances at the random a-list celebrities tony had invited for... actually, peter had no idea what the gala was for. he just knew it was an excuse to dance with you, and that was absolutely all he cared about.

as time passed and peter got more one-on-one time with you, he led you to the dance floor, wildly embarrassing himself in front of everyone just to hear your laugh. it was like medicine to him, and it healed things he didn't know were broken.

the upbeat rhythm of the current song slowed, the DJ transitioning the once high-energy music into a ballad. the lights dimmed to accompany the romantic atmosphere. you looked around as everyone paired up, swaying back and forth with their partners. you met peter's gaze, which was filled with anxiety, but he did his best not to show it. he gave you a sweet smile, extending his hand out in the corniest fashion he could think of. all you could do was laugh.

"may i have this dance, m'lady?"

you stifled giggles as you took his hand. "why of course, my good sir."

peter held you close, his hands around your waist as you snaked your arms around his neck respectively. you swayed together as peter held you, staring intently into your eyes. a smile began to curl at the edge of your lips, but you stayed quiet, lost in his gaze. peter took a deep breath.

okay. now or never. you literally cannot possibly fuck this up.

but he did.

parker, why the actual fuck are you not moving right now!!! holy shit kiss her!!!

but he didn't.

and you can see the frustration in his eyes, causing you to tilt your head curiously. the action moved your face slightly closer to peters, and you flickered momentarily down to his lips, desperately trying to make yourself as clear as possible.

but instead of leaning forward with you, peter just looked at your lips with a defeated sight before flashing his gaze elsewhere around the room.

for the first time since peter had tried and failed to kiss you, he saw your smile falter. you pulled away and averted your eyes, suddenly wishing you were anywhere else than where you were. you took a step back, finally locking eyes with peter again.

you gave him a smile, but this time, it didn't meet your eyes.

holy shit, he fucked up big time.

"i'm going to grab some air, pete. just feeling a bit crowded."

you were so gentle about it, but peter knew he'd hurt you this time. he tried to protest, but you moved quickly through the crowd of people, his calls after you being lost in the rest of the noise.

he let out another defeated sigh, his shoulders slumping as he watched you walk out the balcony doors.

"peter!"

he jumped, snapping to his left to see sam and bucky approaching him. he was so not in the mood for whatever teasing was about to happen.

"you've got to be kidding me, kid."

"sam, listen i'm really not-"

bucky cut him off. "what is your problem, dude?"

"what?"

"(y/n) has practically been begging you to make a move all night, are you for fucking real right now?"

at this point, peter's angry. he wasn't sure more with himself or the guys for harassing him on this, but he was starting to get overwhelmed. everything started to grow louder, the lights suddenly brighter than they were before. peter took a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to stop himself from freaking out.

"i, i-i dont know! i've been trying to kiss her for over a week now, and i just-"

"a week? spidey, just kiss the woman! why are you overthinking this so much?"

"i dont know, okay! i don't know! i just keep freezing! i feel like i'm going fucking insane, literally the only thing i want to do on this planet is kiss her right now, but i just--"

"i think you need to tell her that, not us." sam cut in. bucky followed.

"yeah, i'm pretty sure she feels like you think she's disgusting right now."

a mixture of pain and panic overtook peter's features. "nononono! but i don't think that!

"you sure aren't making much of a case for yourself right now, kid."

peter ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. "i can't, okay! what if i fuck everything up! people who are close to me get hurt, and this is a really big step that means something, and i can't have her getting hurt."

bucky clapped him on the shoulder. "pete, you've always been the closest pair i know, even before you started dating. i don't know how to tell you this, but you might as well also get to kiss her."

sam smacks bucky across the chest, throwing a disapproving look his way. "that's not quite what he--"

"no. he's kind of right. maybe it really is that simple."

both of the guys gave peter an unconvinced look.

"really. i mean, she's already my best friend. she's already one of the closest people to me." peter looked up at bucky. "i mean, might as well get to kiss her too, right?"

bucky smirked at the younger boy, nodding his head slowly. "that's the spirit."

"i don't know if that's the full spir-" sam cut himself off with a sigh. "listen kid, i'm glad you're not freaking out over this anymore, but remember to still-"

"gotta go kiss a girl, thanks guys!" peter yelled as he began to run through the crowd towards to balcony you were on.

sam sighed and gave an unamused look at bucky.

"'might as well kiss her'? that's your chivalry?"

"clearly he knew exactly what i meant."

"don't highroad me right now."

peter nearly burst through the balcony doors, breathless and relieved to see you still out there.

you turned back to look at him, a smile washing over your features as you noticed it was peter out there with you. you were kind as ever, greeting him by name, but there was a sadness lingering in your eyes.

he approached you hastily, immediately reaching out for your hands as soon as he was within reach. you took them gladly, an inquisitive look settling on your face.

"i'm not going to fuck this up again." he panted.

you shot him a look. "what?"

he pulled you in close before his monologue:

"(y/n), i'm so stupid. i should've kissed you. i should've kissed you so many times by now, and i haven't. i havent kissed you yet despite it being literally the only thing i've wanted to do for the past week and a half. and that's so fucking stupid."

he took a step to reposition himself.

"this, i-i mean, you have given me some really big emotions after I've experienced a great deal of loss, and... and i think that's been a little hard to navigate. but i don't want it to be. i really like feeling this way with you. and i really want to kiss you."

you let out a soft chuckle as you shyed away from his forwardness, a blush raging across your cheeks. you felt peter's finger lift your chin to face him, and you met his eyes once more.

"(y/n), i cannot fucking believe that i didn't kiss you.

how... how do you feel about me, now?"

you felt like your heart was going to burst. you felt grateful for all the times he didn't kiss you so that you could be here in this moment, right now.

peter swore he'd never seen you smile bigger than at that moment. before he could even reciprocate, you grabbed him and pulled him in by his tie, finally connecting your lips for the first time. peter melted into you immediately, his hands flying up to hold the sides of your face as though he was afraid to lose you. you snaked your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, reassuring him you were exactly where you wanted to be.

after what felt like the shortest lifetime, you pulled away in a gasp for air, earning a chuckle from peter. he took a step back, mouth agape as he admired you in your entirety. he gave you a sweet smile before another soft peck on your lips, his contagious smile bleeding into the kiss.

with your foreheads pressed together, peter took a deep breath, a laugh interrupting the exhale. you looked up.

"what?"

"i just can't believe we could've been doing that this whole time."

"i think this one was worth the wait."

247 notes · View notes

chronically-gay-whoops · 2 years ago

Text

Needing more amazing Spider-Man fics asap plz <3333

Partners

Andrew!Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: NO SPOILERS FOR NO WAY HOME!! So, I have a newfound obsession with Andrew Garfield's Peter Parker after watching the movies in preparation for No Way Home, and this is a direct result of that!! I've never written for his character before, and I know this is actually terrible, so I'm sorry!! I don't own any of these characters except (y/n). Enjoy! I also realized this is almost exactly like my other Peter Parker fic, but oh well. You can tell the tropes I like to write for!

Summary: You and Peter Parker are best friends, but neither of you know that you are friends behind your masks as you fight the Lizard together. Will one of you figure it out or will your friendship come crashing down because of it?

Warnings: typical cannon violence, mentions of blood, descriptions of injuries, angst paired with some fluff!!

(y/n) - your name

(y/l/n) - your last name

(y/n/n) - your nickname

(y/h/c) - your hair color

Pulling on your suit, you couldn't help but think of how disappointed Peter would be that you were missing movie night yet again. The pair of you had been friends since you were a freshman in high school. Now seniors, your friendship had grown into something more, but neither of you would admit it. Since Uncle Ben died, Peter had been acting different, but that was to be expected after losing someone that close. You had been there for him, of course, but you also had your own endeavors to worry about. You told Pete everything; everything but the side "job" you had picked up, and the abilities you'd had your whole life.

From a young age, you remember being able to do things no one else was able to. You were extremely more agile, quick, and had could fight off anyone without being taught how. Now, almost two years later, you couldn't be more happy with the life you'd chosen for yourself. Helping people was all you ever wanted to do, and now you were using your powers to do just that.

You mostly had been stopping small crimes, but every now and then, someone interesting would pop up. Crouching in your black, leather suit, you heard a ding from your phone. It was a text from Peter. He'd responded to your message.

Pete: Oh okay. Are you okay, (y/n/n)?

You: Yeah, I just have a lot going on rn. I'm sorry, Pete.

Pete: It's okay. We can watch this movie another day.

With a sigh, you slid your phone into the back pocket of your suit. You hated lying to him, but it was just to protect him from your crazy work. A familiar 'thwip' fills the air, and you turn to see Queens' resident web-head walking, well, more like limping towards you. He slowly eases his way down to the roof of the building you were currently patrolling from.

There was always a comfortable silence between the two of you, even though you knew anything about the other. He'd come join you on patrol a few times a week, so he'd started calling you "Twi," which was short for Twilight, your superhero name. You didn't like the name at first, but it did make sense because you often operated in the shadows. After a while, it had grown on you.

Your mask went around your eyes, and over your nose. You would be easily recognizable if it weren't for your mask's technology that disguised your voice and even made your (y/h/c) hair a different color while you were wearing it. He had his own full-face mask on, of course, so you didn't know who Spider-Man was. You turn to face him with a concerned look on your face.

"What happened to you?"

He takes a deep breath in, staring at the city in front of them. "A giant lizard."

"Yeah right." You chuckle dryly. "And I fought Marvin the Martian yesterday. He had a mean right hoo-"

"I need your help, Twi." he states, turning to look at you. "There really is a 9 foot tall lizard running from me. I tried to confront him, but...well, you can see what happened."

You glanced down at the large claw like gashes on his chest, wincing for him. "You should get that checked out."

He scoffs, "Yeah, that's not happening."

"Don't you have a friend or something who could help you out?"

"Nope. I want to tell my best friend, but she's been really worrying me lately and I don't want to add to whatever she's going through." With a sigh, he asks, "Do you have someone?"

"Nope."

That comfortable silence fills the air again as you look out at the city you try your best to protect. In doing so, you miss the way he was studying your side profile. You looked so familiar to him, but he couldn't put together why. Glancing over at him, you catch him watching you.

"Take a picture, Spider-boy. It'll last longer."

"Sorry," he muttered.

"So," you began, turning to him, "How can I help with your reptile problem?"

"It's not gonna be easy," he starts, sticking his hand out. "Partners?"

"Partners." you confirmed.

"Well, this is how you can help..."

He told you of Doctor Connors and how he was going to create an antidote for him. You were in the process of making the formula in the Oscorp building when you received a call from Peter, who you hadn't ever texted back. With a quick sigh, you answered and held the phone between your shoulder and ear, continuing to make the antidote.

"Hey Pe-" you started.

Interrupting you, he speaks frantically. "Are you near the Oscorp building?"

"Uhh. Yeah. Why?"

"You need to get as far from there as you can! Now! Go to Aunt May's place. It's safe there."

"A-alright, Pete. I'm gonna check on my parents at home, but you get far away from there too."

You hated to lie, but you didn't want to worry him more than he already was. The realization that you might not be able to see his goofy smile again finally hit you. Connors was no joke, and Spidey already had already lost to him in a fight once. Luckily, you were pulled from your thoughts by Peter's soft voice.

"Please be careful...I love you, (y/n)."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"(Y/n/n), are you there? Please say something."

"I love you too, Peter."

A sweet laugh escapes him. "That was so much easier than I thought it would be...whoa," he pauses, "I gotta go. I'll call you in a little bit, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Peter."

Hanging up, you're pretty sure that you could hear the exact same voice you'd just hung up with coming through your earpiece that connected you to Spiderman.

"Connors is coming to you right now! You need to get out of there!"

Shaking away the thought, you responded. "The cure is just about done. All I need is maybe three minutes. I'll get everyone out."

"Please don't take him on by yourself. We'll do it toge-" He cut himself off with a groan, and then static filled the comm.

"Spidey!" You yelled, but there was no response.

With a curse, you ran towards the exit and pulled the fire alarm in order to get everyone out of the building. You prayed Spider-Man was okay, because you knew you couldn't beat Connors alone.

You spend the next few minutes waiting for him to arrive. When the ground shook and alarms started to blare, you knew the time had come. Quickly, you sent the lab into lockdown, trying to bide as much time as you could for the antidote to finish. Air hissed as it shot from the ceiling and the only lights were the red emergency signs. The biohazard door sealed the lab, and for a few seconds, you thought it might hold.

"Time remaining: one minute." the antidote machine announced.

Grabbing the Ganali device, you hid it in a lab closet, and hid behind a nearby desk, ready to fight if need be. Loud screeching of metal filled the room, followed by a growl that made the hair on your neck stand up. The footsteps got closer to you and the closet, but they stopped abruptly. Hissing, he ran towards you and slammed into the desk you were hiding behind. Luckily for you, your agility allowed you to get out of the way.

"Look, Doc," you said backing towards the closet, "You know this isn't right. Let us help you."

He lunged at you, swiping his claws at your torso. Dodging it easily, you went on the offensive. You kicked him in the face and did a flip over the monster to get behind him. As you were about to sweep his legs out from under him, his tail came out of nowhere and rammed into your stomach, sending you flying across the room. You landed with a crash on some desks, hitting your head on a metal bar. In an instant, everything started to fade, but your last thought was of Peter before darkness filled your vision.

"Antidote complete."

You awoke with a start to see Captain Stacy hovering over you. Head pounding, you sit up with his help. His face was painted with concern, a look that was foreign to his normally solemn demeanor. In the past, the two of you had your problems because he doesn't like vigilantes....at all.

"You alright?" he asks.

You nod slowly. "I gotta help Spiderman."

Helping you stand up, Captain Stacy hands Doc Connors' cure to you. "He's up on the roof. I'm your backup."

"No," you insist, "We've got it. You have a family that needs you."

He tries to argue with you, but soon gives up.

"Here. Take this." he says, handing you his shotgun, "You need all the firepower you can get with that thing."

With a nod, you take the gun and he heads back down to the street-level. When you find your way to the roof, you are met with a sight that makes your heart drop. The Lizard had his tail wrapped around Spidey's neck, choking him, and had his arms held together with one hand. With his free claw, he rips off the hero's mask, prompting a strangled groan to leave the boy's lips. Without the mask, a head of familiar brown hair was revealed.

"Poor Peter Parker." The monster spat.

Your eyes widened in surprise and you're frozen in your spot. Your Peter was Spiderman. A million thoughts run through your head, but the main one was 'how could I not have known?' Every interaction with Spiderman was being reviewed in your head, searching for any signs. Tears filled your vision at Connors' next words.

"No mother, no father, no uncle. All alone."

You couldn't lose him. You had to act now. Summoning all of the courage in your body, you raised the shotgun and pumped it.

"He's not alone."

The creature's attention snaps to you as he roars. Seeing the liquid nitrogen pipe near them, you shoot it, causing it to flail around and emit a cloud of white gas. Peter caught it and sprayed the gas into the Lizard's face and tail, which freed him from the choke hold he was in. As Pete continued to spray Connors with the nitrogen, you started shooting at him.

"Detonation in T-minus 45 seconds. "

Thanks to Peter who kicks him, he falls into a pit that stores multiple containers of the liquid nitrogen. You walk closer to the hole, glancing at your best friend as you keep firing.

"Hey! Finish this!" you yell, handing him the cure. More gas canisters busted and released the freezing gas, subduing Connors for a moment. He reluctantly takes it.

"I got this, Pete! Go!"

At the use of his nickname, he does a double take before climbing up the tall antenna that the Ganali dispersal device was on. You take advantage of the frozen reptile and reload your shotgun.

"T-minus 30 seconds." the computer announces.

Not even 5 seconds later, the pipe releasing the nitrogen sputters and runs out of the gas. The Lizard unfreezes and jumps out of the hole, coming straight for you. Shooting at him, you managed to dodge his first swipe, but with the second, the shotgun is ripped from your grasp. In an instant, his other claw came straight for your stomach. Trying to block it, all you could do was slightly change it's trajectory.

At first, it felt as if you were brutally punched in your side. All the air rushed out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for breath. With wide eyes, you looked up into the face of your attacker. A wicked smile painted his features and he chuckled.

"Guess you weren't quick enough this time."

Glancing down at your abdomen, the sight made you nauseous. One of his claws was completely impaled right above your hip, and crimson leaked from around the wound.

"Detonation in T-minus 10 seconds."

With a growl, he violently ripped his claw from you and took off after Peter. You fell into a heap on the ground, struggling to even catch your breath. Now the pain had set in and heat overtook your system. Sitting up on your elbows, you tried to drag your body over to a nearby wall. With every movement, a whimper escaped your lips, and you couldn't help but stare at the blood trail that followed you.

Finally getting to the wall, you halfway unzipped your suit on the front, revealing your sweat and blood soaked tank top. A loud boom from above caught your attention. Weakly peering up, you saw a blue mist explode into the sky. He had done it. The city was safe. With a relieved sigh, you closed your eyes and rested your head on the wall behind you.

Peter had just been saved from falling by Connors when the man realized what he had done. With a remorseful face, he whispered, "The girl." Spiderman shot up, sprinting towards where he had left you earlier.

"Twilight!" he yelled.

When he saw you laying there, he stopped momentarily out of shock before running over to you.

"Twi!"

You crack open your eyes to see the boy you loved with a scared look. Clearing your throat, you ask softly, "Did you save Doc?"

He grabbed your hand, rubbing it with his thumb gently. "It's okay. We stopped him."

"Peter I-"

"Let's get you out of here, okay?" he interrupted.

"Not yet." With a wince, you reached up and slowly removed your mask. Your disguised hair morphed back into the (y/h/c) strands that Peter loved, and your voice became normal.

"(Y/n)? Wha- No, no, no."

"Hey, Petey. Surprise," you croaked, stifling a cough. When a copper taste filled your mouth, you knew it was bad.

"You're gonna be okay." Peter's eyes were now filled with tears as he spoke. "I'm getting you out of here, now."

In one motion, he swiftly picked you up bridal style. Your vision began to blur. Was it from tears or the blood loss? You didn't know, but the last thing you remembered was Peter's voice fading from your ears.

"Stay with me, (y/n/n). Stay awake!"

The first thing you were aware of was the steady beeping from your left. Opening your eyes, you immediately force them shut again at the bright lights in the room. You bring your hand up slowly, covering your eyes. You wince as the movement sends a sharp pain through your side.

"(Y/n)! Careful, you'll pull your stitches." Peter says from beside you. Looking around at your surroundings, you realize you're in the hospital.He sighs, "You really scared me, ya' know?"

"I know. I'm sorry."

Silence fills the room.

"You know I didn't tell you to protect you, right?" He asks

"Yeah. Me too."

He gently took your hand in his, speaking softly. "I meant what I said when we were on the phone."

"I know. I did too."

"Good," he laughed, "because that means I can finally do this."

He leaned over your hospital bed with a goofy smile on his face as he gently cupped your cheek, bracing himself with his other hand beside your head. Your heart began to beat wildly, and you felt a blush creep onto your face.

"I love you, (y/n) (y/l/n)."

"And I love you, Spider-boy."

Bridging the small gap between you, his lips connected with yours in a gentle, but needy and passionate kiss that made you glad you weren't standing up. You'd imagined that moment for years, but it was even better than what you could ever imagine. His lips were warm and soft, and your hand ran through his messy hair.

Pulling away, you were both out of breath. He rested his forehead against yours as he whispered, "Wow."

"Wow, Pete," you repeat breathlessly.

He gently places a lingering kiss on your forehead before sitting beside you on the bed, softly rubbing your (y/h/c) hair.

"So, my girlfriend's a superhero. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Definitely, Parker. Wanna be Partners?" You raise your hand in front of you.

He shakes it just as you had before, "Partners."

#tasm #tasm1 #tasm spiderman #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!spider man x reader #andrew!peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

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iridescentparkers · 10 months ago

Note

Tasm Peter for "can we take a break? I'm enjoying this but need a break" bc we all know Petey can get taken away w his super stamina

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥too much

REMEMBER - FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! you can request a blurb using this list or this one (18+) and add whatever you want to your submission!!! here is the link

warnings - 18+ - light smut

LAZING across your shared bed, the smell of incandescent sex lingering around you both, and Peter’s lips loitered over your own. Cheekily hovering, they waited, impatiently watching as your breathing evened out.

He was lying above you as you attempted to regain your breath, wiping your finger across the sweat dripping from your forehead. Peter kissed the little indents on your face, stopping at your cheek to nibble on your soft skin.

Your eyes flutter shut, sleep running to and from you as his kisses put occasional energizers to you. “Peter.”

“Hmm?”

“Baby, you know I love you.”

“I do.”

“And you have been doing so good for me all evening.” You praised as he nodded, Peter faintly whimpering into your ear. “But…”

“But…” he exhaled, and you moved a thumb along his cheek. Peter returns to lazily kissing you.

"Can we take a break?” You giggled between his kisses, Peter’s lips melding so hard into your skin they ghosted as he moved down to your torso. “I'm enjoying this but need a break."

“Already?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed back, pulling his face between your hands as his cheeks squished into your palms. “We’ve both finished three times!”

“And we should finish three more!” Peter exclaimed before kissing along the inside of your wrist and up to the curve of your neck, his hair tickling you across your skin.

“I want to, but I can’t.” You yawned.

“All you have to do is lie here,” he begged, stretching his long limbs across the edge of your bed, his brown eyes staring back as he peppered kisses along the inside of your legs. Peter nipped at your skin as he moved to the outside of your opening, his content hums vibrating beneath you.

“ Peter-“ you whined.

“Okay.” He said, loosely gripping your hips as he laid between your lower half. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

Peter raised you to a seated position, sitting next to you at the edge of the bed. “Tomorrow, I promise I’m all yours.”

He watched as your head fell to his shoulder, “Can’t wait.”

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mugglebornmarvelite · 3 months ago

Text

Flirting with Disaster

Paring: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader (Brother's bestfriend)

Summary: You're about to go on the first real date you’ve had in years, and the nerves are hitting hard. So, you turn to the one person who might help: Peter Parker, your brother’s best friend.

Word Count: Roughly 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, anxiety around dating, mentions of insecurities, unrequited/complicated feelings, cringe-worthy moments

Note: I’m planning on making this a three-part or a four-part. Let’s see. Oh, and I've been away from my usual shenanigans, so I am going to post twice this weekend :)

Part 2

Navigation

Divider by: @strangergraphics

You sat cross-legged on your bed, phone in hand, as if looking at it too long might make it spontaneously combust. The flutter in your stomach definitely wasn’t from hunger.

No, tonight was the night—a real date. A proper date with an actual guy.

And the thought of it had you wanting to crawl under your blankets and pretend the world didn’t exist.

Your friends were all in your corner, practically sending you a virtual pep squad of texts: You got this! Go for it, girl! But deep down? You felt more like a deer in headlights. Spiraling towards your impending doom.

You weren’t ready. Mentally? Nope. Emotionally? Not even close. Physically? Definitely not.

Flirting? Kissing? Oh God. It felt like you were about to attempt something far more complicated than rocket science, like you needed a PhD in how to act normally around a guy just to get through the night. And if anything even remotely intimate was on the horizon? Yeah, that sent you straight back to high school, where you could barely look at a guy without tripping over your own feet.

Talking to your brother about this? No way. He’d send you a full PowerPoint presentation on how awkward you were, followed by an Excel spreadsheet of potential embarrassing scenarios. Your mom? She’d tell you how beautiful you were and then proceed to give you every single detail of her first date with your dad, including the color of the sweater she wore and the exact type of pasta they had.

Which left you with one option.

Peter.

Peter freakin’ Parker.

He’d been your brother’s best friend since before you could remember. Still, somewhere along the way, he’d gone from being that cocky, arrogant, too-cool-for-school guy and literal genius whose favorite pass time was annoying you to someone who made your heart do a little flip every time he looked at you. The messy hair. The cocky grin. The snarky vibe that screamed I’m cooler than you, and you were just you. Awkward. Nerdy. And definitely, the girl who’d had an intense crush on him when you were younger, an embarrassing crush at that. But, for the record, you had mostly gotten over.

Mostly.

But now, with the date creeping closer and your nerves flaring up like fireworks in your chest, you were desperate. You needed help.

So you hit dial.

“Hey, little peach.” His voice slid through the phone like melted chocolate, smooth and warm, and the kind that made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t know how to process.

“Hi, Peter,” you muttered, trying to sound casual, trying and failing miserably.

“Long time, no talk. What’s up?” His voice was laced with that familiar mischief, the one that hinted he knew something was off but was enjoying every second of the suspense. “Don’t tell me you burned down your kitchen trying to make some sad excuse for pasta and now you’re too embarrassed to call the fire department? Because, if so, I’ll happily dress up as a fireman and fulfill that fantasy for you.”

You stammered, and he laughed. Loudly.

“You’re hilarious, asshole,” you grumbled.

“I try.” He chuckled. You could practically hear his smirk. “So what’s the emergency? Need bail money? Lemme see, petty theft? Destruction of public property? Actually, scratch that, even you wouldn’t pull something like that, peach.”

Peach. That damn nickname. It hit you like a sucker punch of nostalgia. You remembered summers spent trailing behind him and your brother, trying to act like you were calm and cool while you tripped over your own feet just trying to keep up with them.

You cleared your throat, doing your best to sound like you had it together. “Uh, I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” Peter’s tone shifted instantly, a little more serious now. “Everything okay? You’re not in actual trouble, right?”

Panic crept up your spine. Why had you called him? This was so stupid. But here you were, spilling your guts anyway.

“Uh, yes. No. I mean…” You sighed, your voice wavering. “I have a date,” you muttered, hoping he wouldn’t hear the tremble in your voice. “It’s tonight. And I’m freaking out. Like majorly.”

There was a long pause on the other end. Then, that unmistakable chuckle, the one that made you want to punch him. “Wait. Hold on. You? Freaking out about a date? I didn’t know you had it in you little miss awkward. You?” His voice dragged out the last word like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, thanks for the support, asshole,” you muttered. “You’re just gonna mock me, aren’t you? This was a waste of time.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, regretting the entire call. You were better off canceling the date and hiding in your apartment with a Netflix binge and a pint of ice cream.

This was just as humiliating.

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” you mumbled. “Bye-”

“Hey, hey,” Peter interrupted. His tone softened, just a little. “I’m sorry for laughing, okay? But you know I can’t help it.”

You huffed, but something in his voice made you hesitate.

“But seriously, you? Nervous?” His voice was almost affectionate now, though he still sounded like he was having way too much fun with this. “Baby, you’re smart, you’re funny when you try, and last time I checked, you grew up gorgeous. What’s there to be nervous about, hm?”

Your heart did that weird skip thing, and you cursed your traitorous body. Baby.

He didn’t even know what he was doing to you when he said it. He said it like it was nothing—like it didn’t even matter. But it hit you harder than it should’ve.

"Easy for you to say," you snapped back, but even as you tried to sound annoyed, there was a softness creeping into your voice. “It’s been forever since, you know, I’ve had to, like, flirt or kiss or whatever. I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

There was a long pause. Then, Peter’s voice came through, low and laced with mischief. “Wait a second. Are you asking me to teach you how to flirt? I’m honored, peach.”

“What? No!” You nearly dropped the phone in your panic. “I…wait! No! That’s not what I meant!”

“Oh, but now I have to,” Peter said, sounding far too pleased with himself. “Come over. I’ll help you practice. Flirting, kissing, whatever you need.”

You gaped at the phone, heat rushing to your face. “You can’t be serious.”

“Come on, peach,” he continued a dangerous lilt in his tone. “You used to trust me with everything. Like that time you tried to ride my skateboard when you were, what, ten? You ate it so bad I thought your brother was gonna faint. But I carried you home, dried your tears, and made you laugh instead of cry. You know I’ve got you.”

You closed your eyes, cringing at the memory. You’d been ten, desperate to prove you weren’t just the annoying little sister of his best friend. You’d failed miserably, but Peter hadn’t laughed at you. Well, at least, not until after he made sure you were fine.

"Oh my god," you muttered, cringing at the thought. "I was a mess back then."

Peter’s voice softened, but that smirk was still there. "You were adorable, though. Adorable," he teased, his voice dripping with something almost affectionate. "Especially with those rainbow bandages on your knees. I swear, I could’ve sold tickets to that disaster."

“Don’t remind me,” you muttered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

“So, come on over,” he pressed. “I’ll give you a crash course. I’m talking flirting 101, kissing for dummies, the whole shebang. You can thank me later.”

You bit your lip, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you were blushing from memory or how his words made your stomach flip.

You hesitated for a second. This was ridiculous.

"Peach, you still with me?" His voice broke through your thoughts. "What's your decision?"

But you sighed, giving in. “Alright,” you said before you could stop yourself. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Good girl,” Peter purred into the phone, and you froze. His voice sent a shock through your system that left you breathless. Suddenly, the whole flirting crash course didn’t feel like a joke anymore.

You knew he was messing with you, but it didn’t stop your skin from flushing.

You stared at your phone, wondering what you’d just gotten yourself into.

Peter Parker was going to help you with your love life. No big deal, right?

You weren’t that kid anymore. You definitely didn’t have a crush on Peter Parker.

“Don’t give me that look,” you glared at your stuffed animal as it silently judged you with its big brown eyes. “I don’t have a crush on him anymore.”

That’s what you told yourself, anyway.

Mostly.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

Tags: @ficcharsimp

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

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electrosuite · 5 months ago

Note

aight so i recently learned that i think only like 30% of afab people orgasm with penetrative sex alone, so i was wondering if you could do something where fem!y/n has her first penetrative orgasm with peter? thanks!

warnings: swearing, descriptive sex, oral sex

word count: 1.8k

masterlist

Your body pressed between Peter and his bedroom door made your palms sweaty. He kissed you so much more gently and lovingly than anyone you'd ever been with, but he was so passionate about it.

He held your face in place with his hands to make sure you didn't go anywhere, and you gripped his sides to pull him in close.

In a split second, he scooped you up and wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands settling midway up the underneath of your thighs. You couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of falling onto his bed with him on top of you, bouncing a bit as you landed.

You adjusted the pillow under your head as his lips trailed down to your jaw and neck. His fingers pressed into your thigh, which was against his ribs.

You two had never been this intimate before. In fact, it was the first time you'd hung out while no one else was home. But, just to be safe, he still shut and locked his door. His Aunt May had a bad habit of walking in without knocking, so he made sure to take extra precautions.

So you were understandably beginning to get nervous. This wasn't your first time, but the first time with anyone was scary for you. You were more excited than anything.

You two had been officially dating for two months now, but you hadn't had any time to be alone together until now. So you had to take advantage of it.

You knew Peter was Spider-Man since the first week you knew each other. You came over to work on a group project that you'd been paired up on, and he'd accidentally left his mask out. He tried to play it off as being a "fan-made replica", but you saw right through that.

So it was no surprise when he swung over to your apartment and brought you back to his place today.

Peter reached up to his neckline and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor. You looked down and studied his body, noticing an almost healed cut right under his nipple, and you pointed to it.

"Does that hurt?"

He shook his head. "Only if I accidentally hit it." He didn't break eye contact as he slipped his fingers under your shirt, wordlessly asking for your permission to remove it.

Instead of answering, you reached down and took it off for him. Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed your chest, simultaneously reaching under you and effortlessly unhooking your bra.

You pushed his hair off of his forehead, combing it backwards with your fingers.

To be completely honest, nipple play didn't really do anything for you, but you decided to let him do whatever he wanted to do with your breasts. You wanted him to enjoy himself as much as he wanted to make you feel good.

"Peter," you whispered, making his eyes glance up to you as he engulfed your nipple into his mouth and circled it with his tongue, letting go with a pop.

"Yeah?"

"I have to tell you something."

"Anything."

"Ugh... I don't even know how to say this."

"Just say it."

"I don't... finish with just sex."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, penetration? I can't get there with just that."

"What does get you there?"

"Oral, usually." As soon as you said that, he unbuttoned your shorts. "But you don't have to do that if you don't want to."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"A lot of guys don't like doing it. I don't want you to think you have to."

He slipped his hand into your underwear, his fingers immediately finding your clit. You gasped softly as he traced slow, torturous circles on your sensitive nub. "I'm not most guys."

"Clearly."

"Already so wet?"

"I know. It's my weakness," you breathed with a smirk.

He pulled his hand away and pulled your shorts and underwear off. You were completely naked, and you felt more exposed than you did with anyone else you'd slept with.

"God, you're so beautiful." You couldn't hold back a chuckle. "I mean it."

He returned to his original position on top of you, kissing you deeply. He slowly moved down your body, kissing your collarbones, then your breasts, then your sternum, and all the way down to the insides of your thighs.

Your hips were grinding on their own, begging for friction and touch in the place you needed his tongue most desperately.

And, as if he could predict the begging that was about to escape your mouth, the tip of his tongue pressed down onto your clit. Your eyes closed and you let out a satisfied moan.

His hands settled on your thighs, holding your legs still. His eyes stayed locked on your face even though he could barely see it due to your head being thrown back.

But he wanted to see you feel good because of his tongue. He needed to know he was doing something right.

Peter was better at oral than anyone else who had gone down on you. Usually it took a few minutes, but with Peter it seemed like it was going to take less than one. You worried it would be a turn off for him, that he'd think it was weird how quickly you came.

"Shit, Peter, I'm close."

He hummed in response, the vibrations of his voice helping you get there. His tongue was working rapidly, his jaw sore. He was doing his damndest to make you cum, to make your legs tremble with pleasure. And every second of listening to you moan and whine and every second of seeing you writhe and grind into his face only made him harder and harder.

The feeling of your orgasm building took your breath, and if his heightened strength wasn't keeping your legs exactly where he wanted them, your thighs would be squeezing the hell out of his face.

Your hands tangled themselves in his hair and pulled a bit harder than you intended, and the feeling of his voice vibrating through your body pushed you over the edge.

You went silent for a few seconds before gasping loudly, your hips coming off the bed for a few seconds before he pushed them back down to ensure your orgasm didn't end early.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you repeated quietly.

He let you cum for much longer than you usually let yourself cum when you masturbate, so it began to get overwhelming. When you lightly smacked his hand to tap out, he pulled away so suddenly that it made your body shake. He sloppily kissed your thighs as you calmed down, breathing heavily and keeping your eyes closed.

He traveled up your body, pushing your hair out of your face.

“Good?” he asked, pecking your cheek.

“Mhm.” You opened your eyes to look at him and you smiled at each other. “Condom.”

He kissed you once more before rolling off of you and walking over to his dresser. He dug one out of his sock drawer before tucking the box back under the socks.

You sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, watching him walk over. He stopped in front of you and you undid his jeans, pulling them down. He stepped out of them and kicked them across the floor. He only had his boxers on, which had a good sized tent in them.

“Lay back down,” he gently commanded, which you did. He positioned himself between your legs once more, wiggling his way out of his underwear. You looked down to see what you desired most and your mouth watered.

Admittedly, he wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, which was sort of a relief. You didn’t love huge dicks, and you weren’t sure anyone with a vagina did. You’d never had an enjoyable time with one, so you were glad you’d be comfortable with Peter. But he was still a good size, so you were still a bit nervous.

He slid the condom on with ease before leaning down and kissing you. You could feel him grinding into you, his length rubbing against where you were most sensitive.

Your legs wrapped around his thighs, your calves pushing his body into yours.

When he pulled away a moment later, he just looked at you.

"You sure about this?" You smirked at how concerned he was.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He tucked your hair behind your ear. "Just making sure."

"I want you, Peter. Please."

You reached down and wrapped your fingers around his dick, making him let out a small sigh. You guided him to your entrance and he thrust into you. Both of you moaned, relishing in the pleasure.

"Fuck," he whispered. You looked at his face, his eyes closed and jaw slack. He was so handsome, and the sight of him inside of you drove you mad. "You okay?"

You nodded. "So good."

He adjusted his position so that he could cup your face, holding it still and kissing you deeply.

He stretched you out so perfectly and your bodies and lips fit together like an intricately designed puzzle. The moans the two of you created were harmonious and melodic and they bounced off the walls.

He started out slow, almost painfully slow. You were burning for more, unconsciously using your feet to push his hips along.

"Am I going too slow for you, baby?" he whispered.

"Way too slow."

And with that, he pretty much doubled his speed. The sudden uptake winded you, a wanton moan tumbling from your mouth.

It didn't take long for you to feel that familiar sensation, but you weren't entirely sure if you were imagining it. You never came with just penetration.

"Pete," you whined, your voice shaky. He didn't answer, instead whispering 'Hm?' into your neck. "I think... I think I'm gonna cum again."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

He changed nothing, even though every fiber of his being wanted to go as fast and as hard as he possibly could. But you needed him to stay at this speed if you wanted to finish again.

And, less than thirty seconds later, his hand was over your mouth and tears welled up in your eyes. This was by far the most intense orgasm you'd ever had, and as soon as you started trembling he let himself go faster.

And, like something out of a movie, the two of you were cumming simultaneously. The feeling of you clenched down around him was what pushed him over the edge — it was too much for him.

When he finally stilled his hips, you both just laid there panting.

"Holy shit," you whispered, your eyes wide.

"Was that the first time you've ever done that?" You nodded. "Well, shit. Glad it was with me," he chuckled.

You pulled him back in for a kiss and his hand settled on your knee.

"Me too."

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reveryfics · 1 month ago

Text

Unmasked

Peter Parker x Male Reader

Summary: Lost in your art, your unaware of a wounded Peter sneaking into your room.

A/n: Andrew is my all time favorite spider-man, also my gay awakening but we don't talk about that. Requests open.

You sat hunched at your desk, a fortress of solitude built from the very posture of your body. Your legs were drawn tightly against your chest, a desperate attempt to contain the swirling anxieties within. Your fingers, stained with charcoal, moved with a practiced rhythm, sketching yet another iteration of the iconic Spiderman. It was a ritual, a way to channel the chaos of your own world into the ordered lines of a masked hero. Drawings, scattered like fallen leaves, littered your desk, each a testament to the hours you'd spent lost in your own thoughts. They climbed the walls, pinned like desperate pleas for understanding, a silent gallery of your inner world.

The music, a wall of sound, blared in your eardrums, the headphones a tangible barrier between you and the outside world. It was your sanctuary, a place where the world's harsh edges were softened, where the anxieties that gnawed at you were momentarily silenced. You were desensitized, numb to the subtle shifts in your surroundings, the gradual opening of the fire escape window a phantom breeze you didn’t register.

And then, he was there. Peter.

He sat on the windowsill, a shadow against the dim light, his eyes glazed with a pain that mirrored the ache in your own heart. He watched you, a silent observer of your world, his chest heaving, each breath a struggle against the agony that wracked his body. He pulled himself through the window, the thud of his landing a jarring intrusion into your carefully constructed world.

You spun around, startled, the music momentarily forgotten. And there he was, on the floor, struggling to rise, a crimson stain spreading across his clothes. Your breath caught in your throat, a wave of panic washing over you. You were so consumed by the sight of his blood, the raw, visceral evidence of his pain, that the familiar red and blue suit, usually a symbol of hope, registered only as a blur. "Peter," you whispered, the name a fragile, broken sound.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and a flicker of that familiar cheeky smile, the one that always made your heart flutter, appeared on his lips. "Hey baby, fancy seeing you here," he huffed, the words laced with a pain he tried to mask.

Your hands, still smudged with charcoal, trembled as you wiped them on a nearby cloth. You moved with a frantic urgency, pulling him towards your bed, your touch gentle yet desperate. You helped him sit, his weight heavy against you, his eyes never leaving yours.

Without a word, you began the arduous task of removing his suit, your fingers fumbling with the clasps and zippers. You rushed to the bathroom, the hallway stretching endlessly before you, a frantic search for the medical supplies your mother had pilfered from work.

Peter's eyes followed you, his gaze intense, his body flinching at the slightest touch, a silent testament to the pain he endured. He watched as you cleaned his wounds, your touch delicate, your brow furrowed in concentration. He saw the tears welling in your eyes, a reflection of the fear and helplessness that gripped your heart.

His hand closed around your wrist, his touch surprisingly firm, halting your ministrations. "Who did this?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, the question a desperate plea for answers.

Peter hesitated, his eyes filled with a conflict you couldn't decipher. He had kept his secret, the weight of his double life a burden he carried alone. But now, seeing the pain in your eyes, the raw vulnerability etched on your face, he knew he couldn't hide anymore. "Curtis Connors," he mumbled, his voice hoarse, his fingers scratching at his face, a nervous tic.

You fiddled with the wrap in your hands, the silence stretching between you, thick with unspoken words. You recognized the claw marks, the brutal, animalistic wounds. You knew that look, the one you had seen countless times when he arrived with unexplained bruises, the flimsy excuses of clumsy accidents and school bullies.

"I should've told you," he whispered, his voice laced with regret, the words a confession and an apology.

"Yeah, you should've," you replied, your voice soft, your eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored his. "Doesn't mean it'd hurt less seeing you this way." You rubbed antibiotic ointment over the wounds, the cool gel a small comfort against his burning skin, before wrapping the wounds with careful precision. Every wrap was a silent promise, every touch a reassurance, a desperate attempt to mend not just his wounds, but the silent chasm that had grown between you.

"I'm so sorry," Peter whispered, his voice rough with emotion. He shifted slightly, the movement a wince, and his gaze locked onto yours. "I thought… I thought if I didn't tell you, if I kept you out of it, you'd be safe. That you wouldn't get hurt." His eyes, usually bright and full of life, were clouded with a deep regret. "I was so wrong. I see that now. It wouldn't have made a difference. You would’ve found out eventually, one way or another." The admission hung in the air, a heavy weight between you.

You understood. You understood the desperate, misguided logic behind his silence. The need to protect, even if it meant lying, was a familiar ache in your own heart. "I know," you said softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I understand why you did it. But Peter, I'm not worried about what you are. I'm worried about you. About you getting hurt." Your voice trembled, the words a raw expression of the fear that had been gnawing at you. "Seeing you like this… it's worse than anything."

He reached out, his hand finding yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. "I know, I know," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking your knuckles. "I'll try to be more careful."

After you finished cleaning his wounds and found some of your older brother's clothes, which were slightly too big but comfortable, you both settled into the quiet intimacy of your bed. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room, softening the harsh edges of the world outside.

"These are really good," Peter said, his gaze sweeping across the drawings pinned to your walls. "The Spiderman ones, I mean. You really capture… him."

A small smile touched your lips. "You're just a good muse," you replied, your voice soft. "No matter what face you're wearing." You turned your head, meeting his gaze. "You always have been."

He chuckled, a low, warm sound that filled the room. "Even when I'm covered in bruises and blood?"

"Especially then," you countered, your eyes sparkling. "It adds a certain… dramatic flair."

He laughed again, the sound less strained this time. "You're something else," he murmured, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

The silence that followed was comfortable, filled with the unspoken words that hung between you. You could feel his warmth radiating beside you, a comforting presence in the quiet darkness. It was a moment of fragile peace, a stolen moment of intimacy in the midst of chaos. You knew the world outside was still spinning, still dangerous, but for now, in the quiet sanctuary of your room, you were safe. And so was he.

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