#andrew garfield spiderman oneshot

[heliads]

Can you do a Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) x Avenger reader one-shot? The reader is a Hydra experiment turned Avenger who has hawk wings and can fly like a bird. She can hide her wings by folding them like a bird can. She grew up somewhere in the US and doesn’t remember her parents, so the closest thing she has to a family is the Avengers. She meets Peter and starts dating him. Her alias, chosen by Tony, is Hawk, which Peter thinks is a little on the nose.

masterlist

You know, at moments like this, you’re really not sure if you’re dreaming or not. The setting around you seems real enough, but it’s happened so many times before that you’re starting to progress past deja vu and into entirely new territory. You could do this sort of mission in your sleep, and at this point, you kind of think you already have.

The scene is simple. Someone has attacked New York, and someone must save the city. This time, it’s not aliens or HYDRA knocking down your door but a new kind of inhuman with a bone to pick. At this rate, you get them so frequently that it’s like a regularly scheduled TV broadcast. Have you caught up on the latest season of unhappy mutants? Nah, I’m still three weeks backlogged on super powered individuals who hate us all.

A voice crackles into your earpiece, and you have to blink hard to get yourself to focus again. A lab tech company stole the blood samples of someone with powers in an attempt to understand more about what makes inhumans so utterly not human. The victim, your criminal of the week, is using his fire powers to burn down the company’s headquarters to prove that they’ll never be able to control him.

See, you’re supposed to be out here stopping the guy, but you kind of see his point. You were a lab experiment yourself a while back, and the results gave you powers and a chance to join the Avengers. Your time as a HYDRA science experiment was the worst experience of your life– agony and horror galore, to say the least– and if this guy’s standing up for the rights of the inhumans to avoid laboratories with a little too keen an interest in your inner workings, you don’t really want to kill him for his troubles.

That’s not the Avengers way, though. You weren’t hired for your thoughts on the rights of inhumans, especially those who suffered in the name of scientific progress, you’re here to save the city and the world and the universe, usually all three at once.

Hence the reason Captain America is chastising you to get your head in the game. This isn’t a time for sightseeing, it’s your chance to protect the innocents as the fire spreads. Thanks to the human-sized hawk wings that have been yours ever since your lab days, you’re in charge of the aerial defense of the Avengers, a role they need you for right now.

Today, you’re not a girl, you’re the Hawk, and you have a job to do. Tony Stark was responsible for your induction into the Avengers, as well as that very obvious alias. He’s also desperate for backup from the sky, especially right now.

You sigh, bid your morals a temporary adieu, and soar down from your vantage point in the clouds. The inhuman isn’t expecting another attacker from above, especially not one moving as fast as you. You tuck your wings into your sides for additional velocity, and slam into him hard enough to knock him to the ground. 

Seizing the opportunity of his distraction, Natasha quickly fires electric charges into his chest, knocking the guy out for a few seconds. From there, it’s easy to get some cuffs on the inhuman and shove him into the reinforced mobile holding cell S.H.I.E.L.D. sent over for precisely that purpose.

Steve nods at you. “Thanks for the help, Y/N.”

You smile wearily. “Any time.”

It’s easier to appreciate the Avengers lifestyle now, basking in the glow of having played a pivotal role in keeping the city safe. It’s a little more difficult hours later, when the sun has already set but you’re still trapped in the Avengers complex for a debrief that just won’t end.

It’s not the Avengers’ fault, you know that. S.H.I.E.L.D. has its protocols, and they get a little antsy if they aren’t followed. Still, you can’t help it when your mind starts wandering. You’ve attended enough meetings on the proper rules to be followed when your life is on the line and they all blur together.

You tune back in when Steve says your name. They’re discussing you now, apparently, and the words being said aren’t all compliments.

Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, can you please try to focus for five minutes?”

You grimace. “Sorry, sorry. What were we talking about, exactly?”

Natasha arches a brow. “This, to be honest. You’re not as engaged with the fights as you used to be.”

You wince. “Can you blame me? I’ve been at this for years, Nat, ever since you guys broke me out of the HYDRA labs. I never went to S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, I’ve never been a spy. I’m just doing my best out here.”

Bruce raises his hands placatingly. “We know that, kid, and we’re proud of you. We just need to be sure that you’re one hundred percent on top of things whenever you’re out in the field, for your safety as well as ours.”

You nod. “I’ll try to be better. Sorry.”

Tony frees you at last from the shame of everyone’s disapproving stares. “Look, cut the girl a break. She did well out there, and no one got hurt. If something happens, we can discuss this more seriously, but why punish her for an incident that hasn’t happened yet? Y/N, I know it’s getting late. You can go if you want.”

You jump on that chance and thank him, hurrying out of the room just in time to hear Steve chastising Tony for letting you go as the door closes behind you. You’re not sticking around to be called back. You have no interest in hearing a repeat of the same lecture.

In all honesty, they’re not entirely wrong. You do need to get your head in order. It’s just been difficult to focus on anything, really. Everything feels the same, and why care about any job if a similar mission is going to take place the next week, and the next week, and the next? They all end the same way, and they’re always going to.

You poke your head out of a balcony and, spreading your wings to take flight, soar up to the roof. Everything seems simpler up here. Why stress about the city when it’s nothing more than a thousand pinpricks of light?

You coast on the night breeze for a while before coming to a stop on a neighboring skyscraper. It’s nice to finally be alone, or so you think until a voice sounds from behind you.

“Sorry, is this roof taken?”

You glance behind you to see a figure emerging from the shadows. After a heartbeat, you realize you recognize the red mask, the scarlet and blue suit, the black arachnid logo on the center of the stranger’s chest. This is the Spider-Man you’ve been hearing about in the news lately. He’s saving the city, but doing it his own way, not caught up in the politics of being an Avenger.

Truth be told, you admire him for it. It must be nice to save people without the lecture that always follows you. He doesn’t have to be perfect, he just has to get the job done. What a life to lead.

You shake your head, gesturing beside you. “Not for you. What’s up, Spider-Boy?”

He chuckles as he sits down next to you. “Normally, I’d insist on being referred to as a man, but I’ll let it slide just this once. I’m pretty alright, what about you? I saw you were saving the city again earlier today. I would have joined in, but–”

You shake your head, dismissing his apology. “No need. The Avengers tend to swarm all over things, no need to involve yourself in their mess.”

Spider-Man glances your way, and when he speaks again, his voice is curious. “I take it you’re not on the best of terms with them at the moment?”

You sigh. “Just for now. They’re the only family I’ve ever known, so we get along most of the time. We’ve just been in a rough patch at the moment. I don’t really know why.”

Spider-Man lifts a shoulder. “Well, you said they’re like your family, right? The fights don’t surprise me. All families struggle to get along all the time. I’m sure it’ll blow over in a few days.”

You chuckle. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“I should hope so,” Spider-Man informs you, “I’m kind of the world’s leading expert on superpowered family relationships. I got a college degree in, uh, Avenging Therapy.”

This time, your laugh is easy, carefree. “Well, Mr. Inhuman Therapist, I’d love a little more advice. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

He reaches out a hand to shake yours. “I’m Peter. It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

Lovely, as it turns out, is exactly the right word to use. The two of you talk well into the night, and you find yourself more than reluctant to leave him, even as the call to sleep grows stronger. Luckily, you end up crossing paths again soon, and then accidental meetings happen on purpose, more and more often until you know the face under the mask just as well as you know the so-called vigilante plastered across the newspaper pages.

It’s just nice to have Peter around, that’s all. He reminds you that there’s a life worth living outside of every fight. It takes you a while to realize that he’s the only friend you’ve ever wanted as more than just a friend, the one you like, the one you love, but after that– well, it feels impossible that you could have ever known anything else.

You’re on a similar rooftop one night a few months later when you learn that he feels the same way about you. You were a little late to your usual meetup spot thanks to yet another meeting with the Avengers, but instead of complaining, Peter beams at you and says,

“There she is! The angel of New York City has arrived.”

You laugh. It’s easy, around him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m nobody’s angel.”

The thought is absurd. You have been a lab rat, a soldier, and a civilian, all in turn. These are all roles that you have played, but none of them have ever been truly yours. Never, though, has an angel ever been among their ranks.

Still, Peter seems to believe it. His eyes gleam with certainty. “You’re mine.”

You almost choke on your own incredulity. “You’re joking. Me, an angel? There are at least a dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. files that would argue the opposite.”

“I’m not joking,” Peter hums. “You can’t deny your angel-hood, Y/N. I’ve already given it to you.”

“I’m giving it back,” you tell him. “Find someone who’s actually a good person.”

“I have,” he asserts. “I just don’t get why you can’t see that. It’s fairly obvious to me.”

You tilt your head to the side. “And why is that?”

“Oh, ‘cause I love you, of course,” Peter says, as easily as if he’s stating a simple, well known fact. Your face must have given away your surprise, because he glances over at you again. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” you manage to stutter out, “It’s just, well, I love you too.”

“I know,” he grins, tilting his head up to the night stars.

After that, it gets better, impossibly. As your boyfriend, Peter is in your life even more than before. Sometimes that involves him stopping by your apartment to bring you flowers. Other times, it means he’s willing to help out with the Avengers so long as they don’t ask questions like who he is and why he’s had an abrupt change of heart about wanting to fight with them.

Usually, you don’t want to call him in. The Avengers can be a hassle, which you’ve learned after years of being one of their number. However, when the fights get to be a little out of hand, a little text to your boyfriend means you’ll have another soldier on your side swinging over in five minutes flat, and that’s more welcome than you can even begin to describe.

Even on days like today, when he stops by to take out some robbers who somehow got their hands on alien tech, you couldn’t be happier to see him. The other Avengers are there, and you probably would have got the job done by yourselves, but it would have taken far more time and cost far more blood. Thankfully, you’ve got Spider-Man on dial, and you can solve problems like superpowered thieves in half the time.

You smile at him as he swings up beside you. He’s still got his mask on, of course, but you can sense his smile even despite the fabric in between you. “Thanks for the helping hand, Spider-Man.”

He laughs. “Any time, Angel. You know that.”

Across the street, the Avengers glance up from the robbers they’d been investigating. Tony frowns. “What was that?”

Peter freezes in place. “What was what?”

Tony quickly points his finger between the two of you. “You just called her something. Angel. What was that about?”

Peter lifts a shoulder in his best imitation of a shrug. “A, uh, new callname? Hawk is too obvious.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “And Angel isn’t?”

Peter raises his hands palm up in a universal gesture of helplessness. “I thought it was more interesting, at least.”

Tony doesn’t seem ready to let him off the hook just yet. “And that’s all it is? Just a codename, not anything else?”

Peter’s voice is as smooth as he can make it. “What else could it be, sir?”

You nod, the picture of innocence. “Yeah, Tony, what else could it possibly be?”

Tony stares at both of you, but he can’t find any evidence of wrongdoing. “It had better be. You wouldn’t believe how fast I can squash a spider if need be.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Peter says weakly, and starts hurrying away the second Tony turns his back.

You follow him, giggling to yourself. “Nice save there, bug boy.”

Peter groans. “If I wake up in the middle of the night to find that he’s launched an Iron Army or something to kill me as punishment for dating his adoptive superhero child, it’s totally your fault.”

You pretend to be outraged. “No, it’s not! You’re the one who called me that in the first place, remember? The blame’s all yours.”

Peter reaches an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “Maybe you shouldn’t be as charming, Y/N. Then I wouldn’t have any problems properly addressing you as a coworker.”

You laugh. “My charm is irresistible, Pete. Give up now.”

“I already have,” he assures you. Such a flirt. You’ve never minded it, though, and you don’t intend to start now.

Sometimes, this city feels as if it was designed to stress you out. As an Avenger, you’ll never have an end to the missions, nor the civilians to save. There will always be one more job in which you could risk your life, and the memories of your time spent in Hydra’s labs won’t let you go anytime soon.

For now, though, the shadows under the skyscrapers seem a little less dark than before, and the faces peering out of apartment windows at you aren’t hostile or threatening but friendly. This is your city, the one you save with your boyfriend. How could it ever be anything but good to you?

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

marvel tag list: @namoreno, @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @with-inked-solace, @callsign-scully, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[aliyahwritings]

INTRODUCTION TO LOSER!READER

loser!reader has school validation issues, she constantly seeks love through grades/scores. she is very empathetic and sensitive to things around her. she has the most beautiful soft long skirts outfits and nails sets (my girl does them herself). she can't do anything without having her grey headphones with stickers on it. oh, have you noticed how she's DIY based? yep.

loser!reader who is obsessed with spider-man and constantly looks him up without knowing it's actually peter parker from science class. she will never admit this but she is attracted to him (spidey) physically and personality wise. she thinks the way he teases officers and is cocky makes him so sexy. she loves video games like resident evil, the last of us and until dawn. she absolutely love playing them to cool down.

loser!reader who's loved by everyone because of how sweet she is for helping those in needs when it comes to homework and tests; she won't give the answers but she'll help.

loser!reader who was raised by her single dad because her mother started a new life with her new boyfriend. she is very happy with her father and wouldn't have it any other way. her father always encourages and teases her to meet new people and "finally" get a boyfriend or girlfriend. she is pansexual.

loser!reader who has nerdy conversations with peter about books and superheroes. she always posts herself with peter on her instagram because she loves showing him off. her signature is definitely long skirts and her curly hair. the people in her classes always admire the way her hair is constantly styled in a different, cute way.

loser!reader is sending a hundred memes to peter in a day and he always answers. he thinks it's adorable how she sends things that remind her of them, him, or just things that made her laugh. he swings her across queens just to have her close to him and panic (mf thinks it's funny).

loser!reader IS A FUN LOSER!!!!! SHE LOVES TO BANTER AND MAKE SNARKY COMMENTS TO HER FRIENDS AND BOYFRIEND!!!!!!!

layout credit to the beautiful @rafecameroninterlude (if u want me to take this down, i understand)

i'll be writing college era peter and reader because ain't no way i'm writing a 15 year old peter... #weird #notintothat #fuckthemkids

[spiderfunkz]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

peter has liked you for a while now.

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

yes, but no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you smile, "sure."

"really?"

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

you nodded, "of course."

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

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

"text me!" you yell out.

peter nodded eagerly.

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

[irndad]

TULIP WITH THE GUY EVER

this is for peter!! im feral for this man my god this is long for nothing happening- guys i am SO fucking rusty prompt: an act of affection so blatant everyone notices roommate!peter <;3 flower prompts

It’s hard not to look at her. 

There’s so much to observe, so much to place his attention on- how she smiles, the way she taps the sides of her mugs before she sips her tea. She’s a vision in red lipstick and he’s the kind of person that’s blessed to be in her presence. 

It’s a Friday night, and there’s a sweet sort way that she curls into herself. She’s been his friend for just about a minute longer than he’s been in love with her, and he’d like to think he does a decent job at hiding this fact.

He landed on his hip today, from a height far enough off the ground that it still hurts, pain radiating from every step as he walks home. The commute is actually quite far from his internship at the newspaper, but he likes the area he lives, and the woman whose company he keeps while he lives there. He makes concessions. 

Still, he’d been looking forward to the sight of her since the ache began. Her presence had a way of soothing. 

She’s curled up onto an inherited recliner in their shared apartment, and when he bursts their creaky door open in a fluid motion, he’s greeted with this sight. She’s not alone- some friends from her graduate program on their Ikea couch. 

It’s girls night, and it’s his dutiful role to say a quick quip and head back to his room. Her two best friends are over, legs splayed over each other in an open display of affection that he adores witnessing. He could hear the laughter and yelling from outside the apartment itself. He likes how they make her laugh, how they seem to make her heart lighter when he can tell she’s not able to carry the weight of everything by herself. 

“Peter!” She’s the first to even notice he’s around, and he tries not to let the stubborn firework in his chest keep exploding at the thought of it. At the thought, she sees me. Her voice is warm and kind and weightless, and he drinks in  the sight of her. Their floor lamp illuminates her in warm golden light, a coupe glass with red wine held in delicate fingers. 

“Hey, you,” he replies, an unmistakable warmth he can’t seem to rid himself of in his tone. He tries not to seem disappointed, like he’d not been imagining watching an irrelevant TV show, a little too close together until they’d fallen asleep just that way.

As he’s hanging his withered coat, he asks, “What are you guys up to tonight?”

Her friend explains that they are watching the Spy Kids trilogy in order, and she nods dutifully along. 

“That sounds wonderful,” he can’t help but laugh. “I’ll leave you guys be-“ 

And it’s no surprise, when they send a him a chorus of please join, and you’re welcome to be here! 

She stands up to give him a hug goodnight (because she wants to kill him), and he envelops her before he can stop himself. She smells like a mixture of lavender and rose and sweet red wine, and he’s grateful for his heightened senses for a moment; it doesn’t take long to memorize it all. 

It occurs to him that he won’t see her until morning, and he takes in the sight of her again, eyes raking over her. She really is beautiful- lovely in a way that radiates her smile, follows her in action. His hands rest on the curve of her waist, and something and things being made to fit one another cross his mind, against his better judgement. God, he could spend forever looking at her, longer touching her. 

He only pulls away when he hears a muffled pair of laughs, failed attempts at not interrupting a moment. Which is absurd, because there is no moment. None. 

She beams at him despite the laughter of those she holds dear, and it aches saying goodbye to her. She's just down the hall and it hurts to leave.

He slinks off to his bedroom smelling like her perfume, blushing bright red and maybe, just maybe, the tiniest bit hopeful. And he thinks he might of heard the faint whisper of two other people, whispering questions he mulls over every day.

"Just roommates, huh?"

[venus616]

Hi!! Requesting a spicy tasm!peter fic where he puts his photography skills to use if ya know what I mean 🔥🫶���

his muse; {p.p.}

Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)

Summary: peter puts his photography skills to use when you're naked

Warnings: established relationship, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex (blowjob), praise kink (if you squint), photos during sex, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: hi. i love this trope So Much… like more than you will ever know, but bc i love it and i’ve seen it done multiple times with peter i was very scared to even do anything with it sjnksks but here is my finished product, i hope you like it~

(Also- it is my gift to anyone who actually likes reading my content bc ive been gone for a While and will be gone for another 2-3 weeks bc finals are not fun! so i hope this is good, enjoy!)

You’re putting away your shared laundry when you hear a loud noise on your window sill. You don’t even flinch this far into your relationship and only shake your head, separating your clothes from his. The window opens letting in a cool breeze and Peter’s book bag hits the ground before he gets inside. 

It's only then you look and give his body, clad in his suit, a scan and smile. “You okay?” You ask. The sun already set and the crisp winter air started to fill the room. 

He scoffs before shutting the window. You turn your body around from the basket in front of you to see Peter shaking his head while taking his camera out of his bag.

The professional camera Peter spent a year saving up for when he was 18 was sat next to your much less efficient Polaroid camera. On it, there was a photo of you two celebrating your anniversary together recently. The flash showing you kissing Peter on the cheek, he’s blushing at the attention and eyes closed from the flash. 

Peter smiled at the memory before he continued speaking. 

“Why do people think it’s okay to commit crime when I’m just getting off my shift?” He sighed before setting down his bag next to your bed.

“They’re so inconsiderate,” You pout playfully while folding his clothes into his reserved drawer at your place.

Peter looks up from unpacking and focuses on your ass poking up from your position. You feel his eyes on you as your t-shirt hangs loosely on your body, and the hair on your legs prick up from the cold in the room.

Peter takes off his mask revealing his disheveled hair and takes in the sight of you like it’s his last.

Your lacy underwear decorating the plump flesh of your butt, reminding Peter of how quickly he had to leave this morning before getting to appreciate for bandaging him up last night.

His eyes continued to scan up, seeing the old t-shirt frame your shape, admiring it as if he had x-ray vision.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Peter is brought out of his thoughts hearing your soft voice, taunting him for his staring problem.

“Don’t tempt me,” Peter quips back. He shakes his head before tossing his mask in your empty hamper. Sitting on your bed and bending over to remove his boots, his ears don’t miss your footsteps as you saunter to him.

You place your feet in between his while he looks back up to you, removing the rest of his suit. 

“It’s never stopped you before,” You cross your arms while he slips out of his suit, leaving his web shooters on. The suit is strewn across the floor and your eyes focus on Peter’s body. 

No matter how beat up he was, Peter remains to be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You ran your hands over his, now, yellow ribs. Compared to the purple constellation he had yesterday, you were grateful for his superhuman healing. 

He had a nasty fall yesterday, left with some scars and bruising, but thankfully this time you didn’t have to stitch him up. 

You even notice the scratch on his arm is almost gone but Peter liked wearing your special bandaids. He likes giving you a reason to buy more cartoon ones for him. 

Peter watches your eyes carefully scan his body for anything else and adores you for it. Still, he hates making you worry.

“You weren’t naked before.”

A smile creeps up on your face, a giggle disguised as a scoff when you answer: “I’m not naked.”

You don’t realize you set yourself up for Peter’s response until he smirks. His hands snake up underneath your shirt to toy with your nipples, already hard because of the cold air lingering in the room. 

A hiss escapes your mouth at feeling his larger, colder hands grip your boobs. Peter slightly grins at his effect on you. He pulls at the bottom of your shirt before raising it up your body. You oblige, pulling it over your head to toss it across your room.

His face lit up at your frontal nudity, hands placed on either side of your hips tugging at your underwear. 

“Let’s change that.” 

You roll your eyes at his response, but not without a smile plastered on your face. You could feel the heat pooling in between your thighs and the excitement in your stomach. 

“What position should I be in?” You shudder under his callus fingers. Peter lightly furrows his eyebrows when you turn, gesturing to your polaroid camera from your bedside table. 

His face relaxes when he registers what you guys are doing, not realizing how serious you were being. 

Your eyes flicker up and down his body when you turn to face him, noticing his erection bulging out of his briefs. Leaning down you use your hand to palm him through the fabric, feeling his cock pulsate in your hand.

“On your knees,” You whip your head up when Peter says that, his hands still roaming around your body. 

You quirk your eyebrow up in response. Pressing your forehead and nose to his, you plant a kiss onto his lips. Your hands are now on either of his thighs, sinking lower onto the ground as the kiss deepens. 

Before you can fully get down, you hear a light thwip and break the kiss. 

You see Peter’s wrist is flicked out with his web shooters activated, latched on to your polaroid camera. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes before he pulls it into his hands.

Resting on your knees, you’re before him with your fingers tracing the waistband of his boxers. You carefully watch for his reactions, but he’s refamiliarizing himself with your flimsy camera you got in your teenage years as a novelty.

You cross your arms on his legs and look up at him, the camera points at you and all you can focus on is his wide smile behind the camera. “Let’s see if I still know how this works,” Peter jokes.  

You repose with both your hands on your knees, pushing your breasts out in between your arms. You didn’t realize they were hardly the focus of the photo (but still included, Peter was only human after all). 

The photo snaps and you remember you have to get used to the flash again. Blinking a few times to get used to the discomfort, the photo prints out and Peter seems pleased with himself already. 

“It hasn’t even developed yet,” You taunt, you resume palming him as you assume that was the extent of his practice shots. 

Peter shrugs while shaking the photo as gently as possible. “Hey, who’s the photographer here? I know a good subject when I see it,” He nudges you. 

When the photo barely develops, he shows you and you see yourself: half naked on your knees with your face fully in the photo. You were surprised he included that much of your face, and managed to catch you looking as confident as you could. But it was easy when Peter was behind the camera, he never fails to make you feel like his only muse. 

You blush and look away from the photo as you continue to massage him. Peter’s breath hitches at the rate at which you go at, and you smirk to yourself. 

No matter how much control Peter took in bed, he wasn’t afraid to show you how quickly he’d fold for you. It was one of the many things you appreciated about him. Another one was just how vocal he was, his whimpers before you even got to touch him were making your underwear dampen. 

When his dick starts twitching, you pull his boxers down, his cock slaps up to his stomach while he watches your movements. Locking eyes with him, you wrap both your hands around his shaft before slowly jacking him off. 

You’re mesmerized by the way his body is flexed under your touch, you almost don’t hear what he says. 

“Your mouth,” He breathes out. 

You sit up higher on your knees and kiss up his happy trail, lingering when you get closer to his cock. You hear his groan and look up, meeting his eyes.

You raise your eyebrows. “My mouth, what?” 

Your lips quirk up again, teasing him. “Use your words.” 

He rolls his eyes in response but you shake your head.  “I can stop,” You remind him. 

His brown eyes almost bulge out his head when you say that, wrapping his own hand over yours to stop your movements from pausing. He leans over to get closer to your face, the scent of you surrounding him. Peter’s face softens at your smugness. 

“Baby,” He starts. You wait to listen to how he pleads for you to stay while he leads your hands.  

“I need that pretty mouth of yours to suck my cock,” He gasps out and removes his hand when you loosen your wrist in response. Your eyes soften at the praise and Peter mentally celebrates when he leans back to his original position. 

You reposition yourself as well, with your neck getting to work as you lick a stripe underneath the shaft of his cock. Peter sharply inhales at the feeling and brings his head back up. 

You lock eyes with him when you feel the jolt in his body and open your mouth in an ‘O’ shape around the head of his cock. 

Relaxing your throat, you lower your head on his length and feel the tip of his cock hitting your uvula before you begin bobbing your head. 

Caught off guard, you could taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue now. You gagged a bit and popped off him to lick it off in the most obscene way you could think of. 

Peter mutters, “Just like that.” and you look up. 

Forgetting he had a camera, the shutter went off to capture your tongue on the underside of his wet tip. 

You collect more saliva in your mouth while you run your hand up and down his shaft. Feeling prepared enough, you go back down on him with the drool dripping on his cock on your hands. 

Peter went crazy at the heat of your mouth and the sight of your lips around him. The only thought he had was to get the camera out again to keep this moment forever.

Getting slack jawed at this, he tangles his hands in your hair but doesn’t change your pace. He only starts pushing it out of your face as it gets in the way. 

You look up at him and see Peter pointing the camera at you as you have half his cock in your mouth. The first shot is taken, and he tries to not move too much as the photo prints out immediately.  He releases a few breathy moans at the pace you're going at while he places the new photo on the side. 

Peter silently gestures to you to get him out your mouth so you release him with a pop, flipping your hair to the side as you continue to jack him off.

“That’s good,” He mutters, when he places the camera at his eye before snapping a new photo. 

“I probably look insane,” You grumble, already feeling self conscious at how messy your hair looks, coupled alongside the drool and precum at your mouth. 

Peter shakes his head and pulls you in closer by your waist and you yelp, finding yourself now pinned under him on the bed. 

“Never,” He shakes his head, attaching his mouth to your tit as he pulls your underwear off. You immediately moan at his aggression on your sensitive nipples and he chuckles against your skin when he feels you flinch. 

Peter’s calloused hands find your clit and start massaging it, and you throw your head back in pleasure when he finds his rhythm. 

You feel a twinge of disappointment when he removes his mouth from your tits but you look up to see the camera watching you, and a shutter going off before you are even ready.

“Pete,” You warn. Your sternness doesn’t last when he slips in a finger in your embarrassingly wet cunt. You almost mewl at how full he makes you with just one finger. 

“You looked so pretty moaning like that,” Peter explains while his finger curls into you. He knew what he was doing when he smiled again, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.

Your annoyance was no match for his desperation as you eventually gave in. One of his hands cupped your cheek while his lips were frantic on yours. He’s greedy for you, almost lapping up your tongue with his own before he pulls away. 

“Just let go, forget the camera is even there,” He mumbles in your neck when you gasp at the absence of his lips. 

He slips in another finger and thrusts faster, making you nod mindlessly as you surrender all control.You grip onto his bicep as he pumps in and out of you, begging him for more friction. You can hear how wet you were, and while you were embarrassed, Peter relished in it. 

“Can you take a third for me baby?” He asks in a low voice as he sits up on the bed in between your legs. You nod vigorously but he quickly removes both fingers.

You open your mouth to complain but instead yelp out when Peter pulls both your legs closer to his chest as he kneels on the mattress. He set aside the camera briefly. 

“Yeah?” He searches for an answer.

“Yes,” You grunt out, already desperate for much more than his fingers. 

He massages your heat with his fingers again before he inserts three fingers in, jolting your body to sit up. You let out an obscene moan and couldn’t help but to massage your clit while he fucks you with his fingers. 

One hand being in competition with Peter’s while the other massages your boobs, you’re almost too dazed to notice the shutter then went off while you were closer to an orgasm.

“Fucking incredible,” Peter breathes out before putting the camera with the new photo down, and leans down to kiss you. His pace never falters, making you whimper against his lips. 

“I’m about to cum,” You announce shakily. Peter swallows your pleas with a kiss and just curls his fingers against your g-spot faster. You feel that familiar build up in the pit of your stomach and the pace of your clenching pick up. 

“Cum all over my fingers baby,” He answers, and you immediately let go. You hold Peter closer as you cum, heaving underneath him like you’re in heat. Your body Peter continues to finger you but only because he loves the way you suction around him. 

He still lets you come down from your high, kissing you through it and massaging your breasts with his free hand during. When your breathing slows down, he sits back up and removes his fingers from you. 

“Need you inside of me,” You remind him as you reach over to palm his already hard cock against his stomach.

“Gonna let me cum inside of you?” He asks, holding his cock in his hand already glistening with your wetness. He readjusts to line himself up to your pussy awaiting your answer.

You cock your head with your arms supporting your body from the bed. “I’ll let you cum wherever you want,” You say. 

Peter grunts at your answer before inserting himself into your entrance, and immediately throws his head back at the feeling, your warmth and wetness engulfing him. 

“So fucking tight,” He comments, and you silently agree as you feel yourself stretching out on him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched around him. 

“Fuck,” you moan out as he finds a comfortable pace for the both of you. 

Or that’s what you thought. 

You hear a shutter from your camera and realize he took a picture (or two) of you in this position beneath him, moaning out for him flat on the bed with his cock inside of you. 

You didn’t have time to care as when he got his shots he immediately started to rock into you, and you felt the strength of him against your thighs before he picked up the pace. 

You watch him thrust into you and slowly lose himself above you.

“I love the way you feel around me,” He pants out, closing in on your body with his forearms framing your face. You nod as the bed squeaks and your hands roam his body, stopping at his shoulders and the nape of his neck. 

Peter obliges to your physical demands and dips down to suck on your neck, causing you to whimper as your body continues to jolt from his thrusts. His soft brown hair tickles your skin as his teeth chew at the sensitive skin in your neck. You don’t know whether to giggle or moan, but you’re vocal regardless. 

“Go faster,” You whine, becoming impatient with him. 

“I’m not gonna last if I go faster,” He growls against your skin, sending vibrations down your spine. He thrusted slower, bringing his hand down to the back of your knee to bend it closer to your body. You felt him hitting your g-spot repeatedly that you knew you weren’t going to last any longer like that. 

“I don’t care,” You cry out. Peter scoffs in your neck as if to say a begrudging ‘Fine.’ and kisses you on the cheek before kneeling back up. He’s already twitching inside you before he begins thrusting again. You almost forget what you got yourself into until you feel his balls slap against your cunt repeatedly. 

A string of curses escape both your mouths, yours because he’s just so big and you can feel the tension build up in your stomach again. Peter’s cusses are because you just won’t stop clenching around him in response, he feels like he might burst the next time you tighten around him. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” He mutters before spilling into you. 

You go slack jawed at the feeling of him cumming inside of you. It feels hot between your thighs, in between the burning feeling of his hard thighs slapping against your softer ones, and feeling him twitch and coat your insides and the outside of your cunt with his load. 

You cry out as he almost slips out of you, but realize he’s gonna take another picture. You’re not sure what to do, or what exactly he’s capturing but you decide to listen to his earlier advice and let it happen. Peter places the camera on his eye while his cock almost goes soft half away inside of you, and you can feel him rubbing his cum around your thighs and up your hips. 

He mutters another curse, before snapping the picture. You close your eyes and your legs when you decide that that was the last photo and miss how Peter compiles all of them on your bedside table. 

Eventually, you look up and see him pulling back up his underwear and beckoning you to see the photos. When you get up and see 6 photos lined up from tonight. 

One of you on your knees, your breasts protruding and almost being the main focus of the photo if it wasn't for your face. You want to laugh at how excited your eyes looked but you know it was only because of who was behind the camera. 

Two more during and after the blowjob, one of you in the middle taking Peter in your mouth and giving the camera (but really, Peter) siren eyes. The other was you slightly disheveled, but Peter swore you were the prettiest girl in the world with drool around your mouth.

A third of you being fingered, your head is thrown back in unfiltered pleasure from his fingers, your breasts sitting high on your chest as you’re on your back and your nipples were glistening in the photo due to the suckling that happened off camera. While scanning this photo, you realize that being caught in the moment wasn’t such a bad thing and Peter is silently celebrating he caught your O face in action. 

The fourth was similar but you had more control over your pleasure as you’re on camera massaging your breasts and hand on your pussy. You feel like a vixen with the way you’re fondling yourself, Peter silently agrees as he knows you look like one. 

Fifth and sixth photo show the before and after of Peter fucking you senseless. Fifth with your body being still underneath his, and the photo displaying that exhilarating feeling you both get when your bodies meet in the first thrust. And the sixth photo when you’re both comfortable enough to come down from your high together. The sticky, white cum is slayed over your sopping, wet pussy and Peter’s fingers and cock in the frame to remind you who fucks you like this. 

“Do you like these? I can burn them away if you don’t,” Peter runs his hands through his hair nervously, not trying to make you uncomfortable if the bit had gone too far. 

You only shake your head with a laugh bubbling in your throat at his consideration and hug his much taller frame from behind. It felt good to rest your head on his back, while his arms engulf yours from the front. 

“I love them, I love you,” You speak low but loudly enough so he can hear, and feel, your words. 

“Which ones do you want to keep?” He asks. 

You know it’s out of courtesy, just one of those things you two got used to asking each other after taking pictures on this camera. You kept the silly anniversary photo while he kept the very nice one he took of you. 

“It’s all for you,” You answer. Peter sputters quickly, turning back around to see your face when you say it, you only nod in full seriousness. 

He leans down to kiss your cheek as a thank you and you only smile back. 

“I think you’d get more use out of it than me,” You add with a tinge of humor. Peter only plays it off with another suggestion while hugging you from the front. His arms wrap around your shoulders while you rest your head in the crook of his neck. 

“You know what though?” He asks, trailing his hands down to your naked hips, stopping to cup the round of your ass. 

“What?” You mutter in his hold, already feeling your body heat up at the thought of round 2. 

Peter smirks before snaking one of his hands to your pussy. Knowing that you’re about to start throbbing, at the thought of him. You gasp before he speaks and he chuckles while he proposes his new idea. 

“I think it’s only fair if we make a movie now.”

[withahappyrefrain]

I wish you would write a fic where... College!Tasm!Peter gets reaallyyy jealous at Reader talking to her ex bf and fucks her on his bed until she’s a bumbling mess 🫣

I think it's time for blonde!Peter to come back

It was stupid. Absolutely ridiculous.

You were barely engaged in the conversation, more focused on the condensation forming on your red solo cup than what your ex had to say.

The interaction shouldn't have bothered him. You were his. Hell, you were even wearing his snapback.

And yet, his blood still boiled at the sight. His hands still balled up into fists. Wade joked that he could steam coming out of Peter's ears.

The dickbag was trying to flirt. Key word was try.

It was awkward as hell, clearly trying to evoke the 'oh remember how much fun we had, minus the part where I ghosted you and refused to eat you out because I'm a little bitch?' card. Every step he took towards you, you'd take a step away. With your arms crossed and the way your eyes focused on anything other than him, it should have been obvious you weren't interested.

And yet, the fucker still had the audacity to put his hand on your shoulder and squeeze it.

Peter didn't have to wait for you to send him the look. He was over there immediately, arm wrapped around your waist.

"She's busy," was all Peter curtly said, before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

Despite your shrieks, you didn't mind it.

Nor did you mind when he brought you to his bedroom.

You especially didn't mind when he had you on your back, knees pressed to your chest as he thrust into you.

"You look so good underneath me babe," He grunted, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he watched your body wither from his touch.

"Y-yeah," his touch was overwhelming, your body reeling from your previous orgasms.

Peter simply smirked, his fingers trailing down to right above where your bodies connected.

Jolts of pleasure sparked throughout your body as his long fingers drew circles on your clit. The band in your stomach kept getting tighter and tighter with each thrust. His teeth sink into your exposed collarbone, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

Only he got to see you like this, back arched with your head thrown back in pleasure. Only he got to make you feel like this, causing your cunt to clench and spasm in pleasure around his cock.

No one else.

"You gonna come again baby? Let me hear it. Let them all hear how much you love my cock."

Normally his dirty words would fluster you. Your cheeks still burn, but this time they're intensifying the ache between your legs, fueling your need to be consumed by him and only him.

What could best be described as a broken wail fell from your lips. In reality, it was doubtful that those in the hallway could hear you over the blaring music. But the idea that maybe they could hear you, could hear the bed frame slam against the wall, could hear the grunts Peter was letting out as you fell apart around his cock, fueled a deeper desire in you two.

Your hands weakly grabbed his bleached hair, making a feeble attempt to tug on the thick locks.

"Don't worry baby, not done with ya. Fuck no," Peter's chuckle was dry, his body trying to hold on, trying to stall off his own release, "You're gonna come again. Whatcha think about that? Ya wanna fall apart on my cock again?"

A whine fell from your lips. Sensitivity surged through your body, mixing with the euphoric pleasure.

"I......I, Peter I-" what were you even asking for?

"Aw, is my baby already fucked dumb from my cock? You're so smart, until my cock is inside ya. Can't focus on anything else can ya?"

"Peter....want...." Normally you were so good at multitasking. But with the way his cock was thrusting in and out of your soaked entrance, the idea of being able to focus on anything other than the sensation between your legs seemed next to impossible.

"C'mon baby," His breath is hot against your ear, "Use ya words."

A feeble moan fell from your lips as you shook your head. It was too much, but somehow also not enough.

What did you want? The words were on the tip of your tongue, tricking you into thinking you could express them, only to run away as soon as Peter's cock brushed against that one spot that made you see stars behind your eyelids.

"C'mon, use your words," His speed increases, his hands now grabbing the flesh of your hips as he drives into you, "What. Do. You. Want?"

Each word is emphasized with a pointed thrust. His honeyed eyes are overtaken with lust, irises overblown by a pure black. The scent of cinnamon is overwhelming your nostrils as his stubbled jawline brushes against yours.

It's only when you feel his cock twitch inside of you that you find the words, now driven by a red hot burning need.

"Want your cum! Want your cum inside me, please, want it so bad, wanna be filled with you, want you to fill me up, please Peter!"

His thrusts slow down, which you think is done to tease. In reality, Peter knows if he doesn't, he'll come immediately. And he wants to draw this out as long as possible. Wants people to notice that you and him have been gone for quite some time.

Peter's imagining your stupid ex still lingering around. Dumbass was probably wondering how you two weren't done yet, given the man's notorious record for the quickest, saddest sex ever.

"Peter-"

"I got ya baby," he leaned down, hovering over your body as he pulled your thighs to his hips. He was now (somehow) deeper inside of you, hips rutting into yours.

"Gonna fill you up real good. Make you mine." You can only whine at his words, your body overstimulated from the immense pleasure.

His lips swallowed your moans. You didn't even need to look, you could feel that smirk radiating off of him. A deep groan fell from his lips when he felt your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer.

Between the bass from the outside music vibrating the floor to the smell of cinnamon that always engulfed Peter, you felt completely at bliss, content for him to continue to use you until his own release.

With one final tug on his hair, Peter's hips stuttered before coming inside of you. What were once moans and wood slamming filling the room were now heavy pants as you both tried to catch your breath.

"That was...wow."

Peter lifted his head up, a boyish grin overtaking gus face, "Was? Who said we were done?"

"Peter....you already..." You froze upon realizing he was still hard. Still inside of you.

"Perks of a radioactive spider bite. I'm far from done with you babygirl."

You were in for a long night.

[rebelelegance]

hiii<3 can u write angst abt tasm!peter parker x sick!reader where he’s basically so obsessed with gwen and tries to hang out with reader as often as he can but when he loses gwen in the fight he runs to your house for comfort but your mum opens the door to let him know that you passed away a week ago or something. i rlly need something to cry to🫶🏽

A Little Too Late

A/N: OKAY SO IM HELLA LATE TO THIS. And I made a few changes, but I hope you like it!

Pairing: TASM!Spiderman x bsf!reader, TASM!Spiderman x Gwen Stacy

w/c: 978 (it's a short one)

Warnings: ANGST, tw!death

Masterlist

Peter couldn’t feel his legs.

He’d had the worst week of his life and right now he just needed you to hug him.

He ran past your neighbor’s house, racing up the stairs to yours, not noticing the look that she was giving him.

He rang the doorbell, waiting to see your smile, and feel your arms around him. To finally have someone by his side who knew everything.

But you didn’t open the door.

“Peter?” It was your brother. And unlike his usual grinning, goofy self, he was red eyed and seemingly angry. His girlfriend walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

You’d hated almost everyone that James had dated, except Evie. But it’d been so long since he’d spoken to you, he wasn’t sure if that was still the case. “Where’s Y/N? I need to see her,” Peter huffed, peering inside the house over James’s shoulder.

“Oh,” James scoffed, “What? Your girl’s dead so now you worry about my baby sister?” 

“James,” Evie warned.

Peter felt his heart drop at the mention of Gwen, before it was replaced by rage. “How dare you!” he yelled, moving to step towards James, but was instead pushed back by the older boy.

“If you really wanna see her, go to the same place you see your girl nowadays,” and with that Peter was staring at the shut door.

To say Peter was confused was an understatement. Your brother had never been that rude to him. 

But what confused him more was that last sentence. He didn’t see Gwen anywhere nowadays. How could he? She was dead.

He turned around slowly, walking away as what James had just said swirled around his mind. It didn’t make sense. Were you at the graveyard to see Gwen too? But you weren’t that close to her. And anyways, the rest of what your brother had said didn’t add up.

Lost in his thoughts, he crossed the places that had defined both of your childhoods. The park where you’d met in 6th grade, Mrs. Parkinson’s house that you’d both toilet-papered in 8th grade, and last but not least, the local library.

You and Peter had spent so many days there after school puring over all sorts of books.

God, he missed those days.

He missed you.

He knew he hadn’t been the best, best friend lately but with everything going with Gwen, and the additional casualties of everything that was happening, he’d just been too busy.

It felt like you’d been absent from his life for ages. 

In fact it was almost like you were gone. Wiped off of the face of the earth.

And then it hit him.

And he ran.

It couldn’t be.

There multiple casualties after the whole thing with Electro, but not for a second had he thought-

He stood outside the graveyard, chest heaving, and anxiety building up inside of him.

He ran around, checking each and every gravestone in a frenzy, repeating the same word over and over again in a desperate attempt to pray for his intuition to be wrong.

Please.

And then he saw it.

In loving memory of Y/N Y/L/N.

Marked with the same day as Gwen’s stone.

“No no no no no, please.”

Peter’s legs gave out from beneath him and he crashed down, kneeling in front of your gravestone.

A sudden gust of wind made him aware of the cold tears on his face, streaming down faster than the pace at which he’d ran here.

He ran a shaky hand over your name engraved in stone, as if somehow that would make it easier to process.

It couldn’t be.

He’d seen you just before the fight. That was just a few days ago. You couldn’t have died. Not after he explicitly told you to go home. That couldn’t have been the last time he saw you for good.

He felt like his heart was actually breaking. He clutched your gravestone harder, tears soaking the rock. He prayed that this was a prank. That you would jump out from behind it. But the longer he stayed there, the more it sank. You were gone and you weren’t coming back.He’d lost you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Among the chaos of everything around him Peter heard your voice from an alleyway, and immediately ran to you, worried that you were here. “Pete!” you yelled, flinging your hands around him. “Someone might hear you,” he yelled, wrapping his arms around you nonetheless. “I don’t think anyone is paying attention right now,” you laughed, pulling away. 

He could see the worry in your eyes, as usual, in spite of the smile on your face. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, changing the topic to the most important one right then. “I wanted to tell you to be careful. Do you need help with something?” you asked. 

He admired your bravery, and how you always wanted to help, despite not having any powers. 

“I’m good. You need to get home,” he ushered, glancing behind him as we watched the chaos increase. 

“Okay.” You replied, nodding. You never put up a fight when Peter told you to go home though. You trusted that he knew these things better, and could tell if a situation was bad.

“Hey,” you whispered, pulling him down so your foreheads touched, “you still owe me a pizza, so get back to me okay?” Peter always felt safe when he was like this with you. No matter what happened, as long as he was with you, he would be okay.

He laughed softly, “ ‘Course I will. Don’t worry too much,” he replied. You nodded once more before pulling away.

“Now go save the day Spidey,” you grinned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter found himself leaning his forehead against your gravestone now, hoping that he’d feel that familiar safety again. Even if just for a moment.

[readerthatreadsss]

Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[lovelettersforthedamned]

Idkidk mean or depressed peter trying to push you away bc he’s afraid of falling for reader (he already is) but one night reader catches him after a nasty fight and cleans him up and sexy times happens but he’s finally opening up to her?

It’s Not Your Fault, It’s Mine!

--genre + trope: hurt/comfort, college!au, angst, flufffff.

--pairing: college!tasm!peter parker x college!gn!reader

--word count: 1.5k

--summary: something has been off about your friend, peter. he's been giving you the cold shoulder, and one bad night leads to the reason why he's been so distant.

--warnings: mentions of blood (bleeding nose), peter gets kinda mean, mention of alcohol, bruises, hurt/comfort, FLUFF.

There’s been a weird tension between you and Peter lately. Although you two are strictly friends, Peter has always been quite touchy. Both of your friends have seen you snuggled up next to him at parties, and holding hands while walking through campus. It was never weird for you and you never noticed how comfortable you were doing it until Peter stopped initiating it entirely. 

The beginning of the week seemed fine, October brings midterms, which means more work, for the both of you. It began to get harder to find time to see Peter, either you were in class, or he was busy. 

That’s how it was the entire week, until Thursday. You finally scheduled a time to hang out at his apartment to watch a movie and get takeout. As you head up the flights of stairs to Peter’s place, a weird pit in your stomach continues to drop, making you anxious. After finally reaching his apartment and knocking, he opens the door. You could’ve blinked and missed it, but right under his jaw was a sickening black and blue bruise, along with some dried blood right under his nose. His hood from his jacket is up, who knows what else he could be hiding underneath it. 

Once he opens the door, he immediately turns away, trying hard not to let you look at his face further. Walking in quickly, you shut the door behind you, “What the fuck happened?”

Still facing away from you, he walks towards the fridge, opens it, and takes a long look inside. “Nothing happened,” a monotone voice meets your ears.

He reaches deep into the fridge and pulls out a beer, opening it and taking a swig as he leans against the kitchen counter. You take a few steps toward him until you’re in his direct line of sight. Reaching up to inspect his face more, his hand comes up to swat you away.

You open your mouth to speak, but you are quickly interrupted by the boy in front of you, “(Y/N), can we talk?”

This catches your attention fully, crossing your arms as you peer up at him, frustration lighting your body on fire, “Sure.”

“Whatever we are, or whatever this is,” his eyes are avoiding contact with yours at all costs, he’s nervous, “I don’t want to be involved with you anymore, and I don’t want to see you around anymore.” 

Your once worried demeanor turns into one of shock. You suddenly feel like a deer in headlights, the warm air of Peter’s apartment now becoming too hot. Taking a step back, you speak before your mind can think of a real sentence, “What?”

“I’m telling you to leave, (Y/N),” his tone coming out harsher. His gaze finally meets yours, and he regrets he ever dared to look. Your lower lash line is filled with tears that are threatening to spill at any second. In reality, Peter would never in a million years tell you this, but fuck, does the thought of you scare him terribly. 

He was comfortable in this safe middle ground of romance with you, there were no titles, strings, or commitments. It was nice having you, you brought a familiar sense of safety wherever you went. Maybe that’s why Peter gravitated towards you. 

He thought he was going crazy one night, his mind had seemed to collapse at the mere thought of you. There was no escaping the thought of your smile, the warmth you brought to him, and the way your touch lit up his skin. All he could think of was you, and it was killing him. He wanted whatever you had to stay where it was, but it seemed impossible the more he thought of you. In all honesty, he’s afraid to love you. 

Stepping back from him, your voice starts to shake, “You don’t mean that.” 

“Please…please, just leave (Y/N),” his head dips, a tear falling from his eye, “just go.”

Looking at his slouched form, you bite your lip to prevent it from wobbling anymore. You remain there for a second, hoping that this is some sick dream, you’re waiting to wake up from it at any second. 

Peter still sees your feet planted in front of him, he finally looks back up at you, but now his nose is bleeding again. Wiping the sleeve of his jacket against his nose, the fabric is now stained with the deep liquid. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself before he turns around to face the sink, turning on the water and running his sleeve under it. 

You walk silently behind him, reaching your hand up to rest on his back and leaning into his arm. This time, he doesn’t push you away. You stay there for a few minutes before he turns to face you completely, “I’m sorry.” That’s all he says before he falls into your frame, wrapping you in a hug so tight that you almost can’t breathe. Pushing your second wave of shock and confusion aside, you hug him back. You’re not sure what was going on, but what you did know was that he needs you right now. And although the words he spewed at you were harsh, you pushed them aside, because Peter is hurting. 

That was another reason why Peter loved you, you care for people selflessly, even after being hurt by those same people. “Let’s go sit on the couch,” you suggest, grabbing a few tissues before following Peter. Sitting down, you’re able to look at his face closely, noticing his nose first, you grab a tissue to clean him up. There was a gentleness to your touch, he wouldn’t blame you for hurting him more, especially after what he said to you. But no, your touch is feather-like. 

Throwing the dirty tissues on the coffee table, you ask, “Can I take off your hood?” A nod is seen in response. Lifting both hands to pull down his hood, you see another bruise forming on his temple. Your fingers dance over it, scrutinizing it. Even though you barely touched his face, he craves your touch more. Quickly standing up, you make your way back to the fridge and grab a pack of frozen peas from the freezer, along with a kitchen towel to wrap around it. 

As he watches you walk back, all he can think about is how he hurt you. He hurt you and you're helping him. Placing the cold bag on his face, you grab his hand to hold it there. Right as you start to pull away, he traps your hand inside of his, grasping your attention, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

You sigh as you realize what’s about to come up, pulling your hand away from him and putting both your hands in your lap. “Why did you say that? There has to be a reason, right? What did I do?”

His heart cracks at your last question, his outburst caused you to think that you did something wrong. He swallows before responding, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I have no excuse for what I did, and I’m sorry. I just–the thought of us scares me.”

“That’s why we said we would keep this platonic,” you say, “we’re just friends.” That’s what you told everyone, that’s what you told yourself, but you couldn’t keep ignoring that inkling feeling whenever you were with him. There was always a pull towards the feeling of being something more, but the second it popped into your mind, you shut it down immediately. You couldn’t lose Peter. 

He was panicking at your response, was he making a fool out of himself for making this such a big deal? “I know we are,” he starts, dropping the cold bag of peas to the side, “and that’s great, don’t get me wrong, but god (Y/N) you make it so hard to be just that. And it’s so annoying because it’s not your fault! It’s mine! I’m in love with you, and it’s driving me crazy because the thought of you not existing in my life hurts me. There’s not a moment in the day when I am not grateful for you. You have changed my life and you don’t even realize it! Fuck! I am in love with you.”

You look at him with wide eyes, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was not that. He’s breathless, panting at his hurried confession. On the inside, he was freaking out, you weren't responding. 

“Can you please say something–”

Your response contains no words, your kiss says enough. 

You softly cradle his head, keeping his bruises in mind. The kiss was soft, a pour of emotions flowing through your lips. Pulling away, you finally give him a verbal response, “I love you too, does that answer it?”

“I don’t know,” he teases, “I think you need to kiss me more to fully confirm your answer.”

“You’re such an idiot, Parker,” you laugh, leaning in to kiss him again. 

--author's note: HELLO!!! thank you so much for the request anon! im sorry, there's not a lot of spiciness in this one:(( my allergies are literally killing me right now, so apologies for posting so late and the lack of posts recently! BUTTTTT, be aware of a fic tomorrow featuring someone else on my masterlist...don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging! my asks/inbox is open, so send me anything!! ok, bye ily<3

[bitchyycapricorn]

Warm Shower and Soft Kisses

Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 1.3k

Synopsis: Peter takes care of you after you after you disappear for a week.

Warnings: Fluff!!, hurt/comfort, Peter taking care of his girl, Shower with Peter, technical nudity but no smut or descriptions.

AN: Can be imagined as any Peter, gif is just tasm. Lightly edited. Also I’m currently working on two requests so stay tuned <3

A chilly breeze rushes through your room, waking you from your slumber. Your eyes flutter open and lock on your open window that’s letting in the cold November breeze. “Fuck,” you mumble as you bury yourself deeper into your duvet, far too lazy to get up and actually shut the window. You’ve been like this for almost a week now, a lethargic shell of your former self hiding in your room away from the problems of the word.

You haven’t been up more than 10 times since it all started. You refuse to move unless you have to go to the bathroom, and even then you do that begrudgingly. On top of your refusal to move unless absolutely necessary, you find yourself calling out of work most days, unable to handle the thought of dealing with people. You’re also skipping classes and ignoring everyone’s attempts to contact you.

Your biggest issue at the current moment is Peter Parker, your boyfriend. He stops by your place at least twice a day since you disappearance. Your parents always sending him away per your request. You felt horrible for pushing Peter away, but you felt so sick and the thought of being with another person exhausts you. Your whole body was aching just from you laying silently below your covers after all.

Your quiet day comes to an end just as quickly as it starts when you hear Peter slipping through your window. “Y/N?” He whispers, approaching your shaking body that’s huddled under a pile of blankets. “Baby, what’s going on? Are you sick?” You feel him peeling the blankets off you, revealing just how horrible you look. Your eyes have heavy eye bag’s despite you sleeping most of your days, and it’s clear you haven’t showered since your disappearance.

When you look up you’re met with a face of concern. “Hi,” you say meekly. Your voice feels scratchy in your throat as you speak for the first time in a few days.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Peter presses the back of his hand to your forehead. “Sweetheart…”

You give Peter a small smile before feeling suddenly embarrassed, you can’t even remember at this point the last time you brushed your teeth. A frown settles on your face as you look up at Peter once more. “I haven’t been feeling like myself lately.” You whisper.

Peter frowns, stroking your cheek. “I can help you get a shower if you’d like baby?” You nod slowly, grateful for your boyfriends offer. You place your hand in his and allow him to lift you up and out of bed. You latch onto Peters arm the moment you stand up. It’s abundantly clear just how shaky your legs feel due to the lack of use.

Peter guides your wobbling body into your bathroom, turning on the lights and fan in the process. The bright lights are overwhelming as you sit on the bathroom sink, watching as Peter starts the shower for you. “Come on pretty girl, let’s get you cleaned up.” Peter smiles as he gently kisses your cheek.

You watch as Peter strips out of his clothes before helping you out of your own. The cool air sends a shiver down your spine. You take a moment to enjoy being out of your dirty cloths as Peter leads you under the warm water.

“Better?” He asks as he gently massages your scalp while placing kisses all over your face.

“Much,” you sigh, allowing your body to relax under his touch. You wait patiently as Peter lathers up his hands with Shampoo, just wanting to feel his hands in your hair again.

“Shall we get your hair washed m’lady?” Peters asks, not really waiting for a response since his fingers are already tangling in your hair before he finishes his sentence. You let out a small moan at the sensation of his fingers giving your scalp a deep massage. Every muscle in your body seems to let go in that moment, putting you into a state of calm.

Peter pulls away from your hair momentarily, lathering conditioner onto his hands before returning to your hair. “Thank you Peter,” you whisper softly, getting on your tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Anything for my girl,” he smiles.

You allow yourself to soak up the sensation of being clean along with Peters gentle hands slowly rubbing the soap bar all over your body.

“You look so pretty right now, I hope you know that.” Peter coos, also enjoying the feeling of his hands gently lathering soap into your plush skin. He’s been worrying sick about you for essentially the last week. Since you didn’t return a single phone call and when he knocks on the door your mom always tells him you aren’t feeling well.

You’ve been on Peters mind since the day of your mini disappearance, making him feel sick and lonely without you at night. He was missing the sound of your voice, the way you giggle and laugh, your bright smile and witty jokes. He was missing every inch of you, and now that you’re finally back in his arms he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle having to go home again.

You were both so caught up in one another’s presence you only notice how long it’s been when the water starts to get cold. You both let out a small laugh, rinsing off before hopping out of the shower.

Peter helps to dry your shivering body, hoping to warm you up as quick as possible. You aid Peter in drying off as well, wanting to help him like he’s been helping you.

Peter ruffles your hair in the towel before wrapping it around you once again and making his way to your sink to grab a toothbrush. He quickly gets some toothpaste and wets the brush, helping to ease it in your mouth.

He didn’t question why you haven’t showered it brushed your teeth, rather he just silently helps you do so, sprinkling words of encouragement along the way. “You’re doing great sweetheart, you have such a pretty smile you know.” Peter says as he continues to help you brush your teeth.

Despite your exhaustion you find the energy to throw your arms around Peter, toothbrush still sticking out of your mouth. He lets out a small laugh, hugging you back and kissing all over your face.

“Come on, let’s finish brushing your teeth so I can kiss your pretty lips,” Peter urges, as he helps you finish up. Once your teeth are clean Peter makes sure to press five kisses to your lips immediately, savoring the feeling of your lips on his.

“I should probably get dressed before we keep kissing,” you tease, starting to feel like yourself again.

“Mhm, how about some warm fuzzy pajamas?” Peter offers as he leads you over to the closet. He shuffle through some options before setting on your red t-shirt and short pajama set. “This one’s my favorite on you, and I know you’ve said it’s the most comfortable.” Peter smiles as he helps you into your cloths. He shuffles through some of the cloths he left at your place, throwing on a pair of boxers before leading you over to your bed.

“Peter?” You whisper, looking up at your boyfriend as you sit on your bed.

“Yes baby?” He hums, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Can you cuddle me? Please?” You beg, craving Peters soft touch once again.

“Anything for you love, come on, crawl under the covers.” He replies as he helps you situate. He slowly pulls the covers up and around you both, holding you in his arms tightly.

“I love you Peter,” you say softly, feeling your eyes grow heavy once more.

“I love you too Y/N,” Peter hums, kissing your forehead one last time before you fall into a deep slumber.

+++

TAGLIST

[spidernerdsblog]

It's always you

A/N : This lovely concept was @starlight-starks idea ❤️ Hope you guys like this. Let me know what you think.

Summary : Peter has skipped your fourth weekly movie night and you aren't very happy about it.

Pairing : tasm! Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings : angst, fluff, mutual pining

Your phone pings with a text message, thinking it must be Peter you eagerly reach for it to let out a disappointed sigh when you read the text.

Gwen wants me to help her with the robotics project. Raincheck?

Sure. You type back.

Sorry, I know it was our weekly movie night.

Yeah the fourth movie night in a row to be exact as you look at the large popcorn bowl sitting on the coffee table you had prepared and he chose to ditch you again.

Don’t worry I’ll be fine. Goodluck with the project 👍 you reply.

I’ll make it up to you. I promise :)

You read his text and lock your phone before tossing it to the side on the couch. Grabbing the tv remote you scroll through the wide selection of movies, choosing one in random you press play. You then pick up the popcorn bowl and start munching on them all alone in your apartment. The sound of the movie playing drones in the background as you get lost in your own thoughts.  

You and Peter were slowly growing apart, the niggling worry has been eating you up from the inside lately.  And you knew if you had voiced your worries to Peter he would have clearly dismissed you saying you’re being silly. 

But you needed that reassurance from him even more now because you were aware of the little crush he had on Gwen. You didn’t want to appear as a jealous friend but the more they got closer the more insecure you felt. 

It is childish, you know, to cling to the pact you made when you were in middle school that whatever happens you will make time for each other. And these weekly movie nights were a sacred part of your friendship which you weren’t ready to give up for anyone. Hell you didn’t want to share him with anyone.

You stopped eating surprised at your own thoughts. Where did that come from? You wondered.

****

Saturday night there was a party at the Greek row. One of Harry’s frat brothers was celebrating his birthday so you and Peter were invited as well. After a few rounds of drinking and dancing you were all gathered around the couch playing truth or dare. Harry spins the bottle and it stops at you.

“Y/N it’s your turn. Truth or dare?” He waggles his eyebrows.

“Truth.” You declare.

“Boo boring!”

“I’m too drunk and I don’t trust you so much with your dares Mr. Osborn.” 

“You wound me Y/N.” Harry clutches his chest dramatically, appearing to be in pain. He then thinks for a second and asks. “Ok, the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”

“Hmmm well…” You think of an answer before replying. “Don’t worry about me, I'm fine.”

“Don’t we all say that?” Carin agrees sitting beside you.

“You know when we say I’m fine we're denying our true feelings and experiences; we're hoping to convince ourselves and others that everything really is okay.” Brody the tall and muscled quarterback of the football team adds in.

“Oh here we go.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“No, no it’s true we pretend to be fine to avoid conflicts.” Brody goes on. “Sharing our true feelings or opinions might cause someone to get angry with us and that's scary or at least uncomfortable.”

“Y/N this is your fault.” Harry scowls at you.

“What did I do?” You giggle.

“You know Brody turns into a psychology nerd when he is drunk.” 

“Well I think you need it even more given the fact you’re always running away from your problems.” You snicker and Harry gives you the finger.

Amidst all of your banter Peter’s mind was stuck on what you said as he tried to recall the number of times you’ve said those exact words to him. He was so lost in his thoughts that he startled when you snapped your fingers in front of him.

“Yo earth to Peter. You okay?”

“Yea..yeah.” Guilt washed over him anew as he looked at your smiling face. He had let you down but you never once complained or stayed mad at him. He had to make it up to you as soon as possible.

***

Next day after your classes ended for the day you are walking out of the university campus when you hear Peter call out your name.

“Y/N wait!” you turn around to see him running towards you. He stops in front of you panting, handing you a white envelope.

“What is this?” you frown pulling out a paper from inside it. 

VALID FOR ONE

One Full Day of Fun with your BFF.

Redeem by : Anytime   Expires : Never

You looked up at him cluelessly.

“This is a free coupon to a fun day with your best friend,” He explains, pointing a finger at himself.

“What?” You giggle with your brows raised in amusement.

“I know I’ve been a very bad friend lately.” Peter goes serious. “and I want to make it up to you.”

“That isn’t necessary Peter.” Your expression turns soft.

“Ah ah nothing of that. Tomorrow we do whatever you want.” He states.

“Well I’ve been meaning to visit this vintage bookstore I found online. We could go there I suppose.” You shrug.

“Ok done! Gotta go now, Psych class. See you tomorrow.” He drops a kiss on your cheek and runs back to the science building as you stand in your place trying to piece together everything that happened.

****

The doorbell chimes and you rush to open the door excitedly. Peter stands at the threshold with his hands in his pockets. His face lights up as soon as he sees you.

“Hey.” 

“Hi..” You smile.

“You look pretty.” He observes. 

“Thanks.” You blush, tucking your hair behind your ear. You had taken a considerable amount of time to decide what to wear today as if it was a date because honestly it felt like one. Finally you had chosen a pale pink knit sweater, blue jeans and ankle boots.

Together you walk towards the subway station and board a train. There are no empty seats so you stand at an empty corner. And like always Peter stands in front of you like a protective wall caging you with his body from the crowd of passengers. Your bodies pressed together as Peter peers down at you smiling and you smile back feeling a giddiness inside your stomach.

Twenty minutes later you get off the train and begin walking along the sidewalk. The map showed the shop was just around the corner of the street. So it was as you stood in front of a small antique bookstore.

The bell chimes overhead as you push the door open. The scent of old books hits you as your eyes take in the cozy interior of the shop. Tall wooden shelves lined with stacks of books illuminated by the soft glow of the yellow lights overhead and you thought you’ve gone to heaven.

You run your fingers through the spines of the books; some are leatherbound with their beautiful gold detailings still intact.

“OH MY GOD!! Look at this!” You hear Peter squeal excitedly from the other side. “This is the original Lord of the rings book set from the time it was first published and it has the author’s signature too!” 

You laugh seeing Peter’s face light up like a child on a christmas morning.

“This place is so cool!” He announces.

“I know right?” you say smugly.

“You kids find anything you like?” An old man emerges from the back of the shop.

“Yes, how much for this book set?” Peter asks.

“That will be $130.” He answers. Peter’s face falls hearing the price.

“Oh I don’t have that much at the moment.” 

You would have lent him a few bucks if you could but after paying rent and your monthly supplies you were as broke as him.

“It’s ok we can come back for it later.” You rub up and down his arm soothingly.

“I say what boy you give me $20 for now I’ll hold that book for you until you pay the full amount.” he proposes.

“You would do that?” Peter’s expression turns hopeful.

“Yeah why not? You seem to really want that.” He chuckles.

“Thank you.” Peter says bashfully.

After paying the old man you took a stroll through the central park eating your favorite ice creams before catching a subway back to your home.

As soon as you got into your apartment Peter had quickly changed into his spare clothes he kept at your place due to the amount of time he stays overnight. 

You walk out of your room changing into your comfy pajamas and stop at the doorway to watch Peter in the kitchen heating some popcorn to eat while watching the movie you had chosen.

Peter feels your eyes on you and looks up. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing, it's just been awhile seeing you in my apartment.” You say plopping down on the couch as you lean forward to grab the remote from the coffee table to switch on the tv.

Peter carries the bowl of popcorn and places it on the table and sits down beside you. “Hey” He reaches to take your hands in his. “I’m sorry for bailing on you all those times. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“It’s ok, Peter.” You lovingly cup the side of his face. “Besides being spiderman you’ve your own life too. I can't monopolize all your time.”

“Don’t you even think of that.” His expression turns serious as he holds your hand a little tighter. “You will always come first to me no matter what.”

“Aww I’m honored Parker.” You joke trying to lighten the mood.

“I mean it Y/N.” He says unamused.

“Ok, ok tiger calm down. You’re important to me too Peter now can we start watching the movie?” He nods and leans back, getting comfortable on the couch as you press play.

The movie starts and you sidle closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder putting a throw blanket around yourselves.

By the time the movie ends you were fast asleep all cuddled up against him. Peter looks down at your face so calm and beautiful. You let out a small sigh and snuggle closer to him. 

Peter smiles and reaches to brush off a strand of your hair falling over your face. On many occasions during a movie night you both have ended up cuddling together but somehow today it feels a lot more intimate. You in his arms feel so right as if you belong to him and he belongs to you.

It feels like home.

He has been keeping a secret from you and that was one of the reasons he bailed out those few nights. He was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. And he was scared that if he were alone with you he would act out on those feelings. And what if you didn’t feel the same for him? 

..................................................................................

[heliads]

Andrew!Peter x male reader, Peter and reader being childhood friends and when Peter gets bit by the spider he grows distant with reader and reader starts to see him hanging around gwen more and gets jealous and mad, maybe a fight in the hallway of the school and reader just walking away, maybe fluff or angst whatever your really feeling tbh

ooh i love a chance for angst

masterlist

Peter Parker tells you about the spider bite, and that is the last thing of note that he says to you. The silence that follows that one grave pronouncement is deep, lasting, unfathomably painful; it refuses to let you be, even for a second, but the worst thing about it by far was that it came from him, from Peter. Your Peter. Peter, formerly yours, but yours no longer.

Before that, though, there was the friendship, and in between, the one final conversation. You didn’t expect the spider story to be the last thing you shared with Peter, and no doubt he felt the same way, but life has a habit of tearing people apart. It’s always easier to drift than keep in touch, to leave than make the effort of continually seeking each other out. One moment, you had him all to yourself, and then there was nothing at all.

He had come in with the rain that night, crouched and shivering on the threshold of your window after he crawled up your fire escape for the billionth time in your life. You’ve been friends with Peter Parker since the two of you were kids, and had long since reached the point where it was stranger for Peter not to be at your window than it ever was to see him creeping inside your room late at night.

He memorized the pattern of creaking floorboards in your room a long time ago, where to step and which piles of stuff to avoid so as to not alert your parents to his presence. All this you’ve done many times before, both to hear out his troubles and to share your own, but you have never seen him this afraid before. It doesn’t suit him, the panic, the dread. It makes you uneasy, which in turn makes him worse.

You were still awake at that point, only just beginning to ponder the possibility of sleep, so he didn’t have to disturb you. Peter always said he felt bad whenever he woke you up by accident, but not enough to stop coming. Never enough to stop coming, until now.

He sat in the corner of your room for a while, legs pulled up to his chest, sweating and shaking but not saying much. You’d try to ask him what the matter was, but you got the idea that Peter would speak when he was ready, and he certainly wasn’t ready then.

The story came out in bits and pieces. Peter had managed to con his way into an internship at Oscorp in an attempt to find out more about his father. Instead, he’d run into Gwen Stacy, and subsequently Dr. Curt Connors and his experiments. During a secret reconnaissance venture into the Oscorp labs, he’d managed to find one truly terrible experiment:  spiders, dozens of them, all collected for one mysterious purpose. 

It sounds gross to you, but Peter had apparently been fascinated by the setup. So much so, in fact, that he didn’t notice when one of them bit him. He shows you the bite mark on the back of his neck, which is about as unsettling as one would expect, then tells you more. He’s stronger than he used to be, and by such a massive margin that it’s genuinely alarming. He sticks to things better than glue. He can jump high and withstand force and do a lot of incredible things that no human being should ever be able to do.

All of this he tells you in one great rush, like if he was interrupted once in the process of saying it Peter would never be able to get everything out again. Once he’s done with his story, he leans back and sits there, panting, waiting for your judgment.

You don’t know what reaction he wanted, but you must not have given it to him. It’s the only thing that explains why Peter picked himself up off the floor not much longer after that, leaving your room just as quickly as he entered it. That would be why his presence slackened and dropped off, why you saw him less and less and then not at all. Somehow, you must have disappointed him, and done it enough that he would want no more of you.

It’s not like Peter totally dropped out of society. You were the only one he avoided. You watched from the sidelines as Peter picked fights with Flash, how he started approaching Gwen Stacy with increasing frequency.

He’d told you about Gwen before you know, his little crush. You get it, she’s pretty and smart and very capable, but you were always protected by the fact that she was totally out of his league. Now that Peter is suddenly in top physical shape and doused by a fabulous dose of confidence, though? You’ve seen them on dates, talking by each other’s locker, everything Peter used to dream about.

That leaves you where you are now, cut off from the friend you used to value above all else, unable to do anything but watch him steadily improve in every way without you. After all, this is it. This is Peter’s comeuppance moment, his chance to finally get the life he’s always dreamed of, the girl, the popularity from defeating Flash. This is everything he’s ever wanted, and for once, it does not include you.

So; we have started at the end, we have worked our way back, and now it is time to peer, frightened, at the future. You had Peter and subsequently lost him, the only thing left to do is to learn how to live without him by your side. It is something you thought you wouldn’t have to experience in your entire life. It is the only thing you can count on now.

It makes you angry, even furious. He was your best friend, and he drops you in a flash the second a spider bites him? You could expose him, you think, totally destroy him by just mentioning the fact that he’d been exploring the laboratories at Oscorp when he shouldn’t have. The thought of betraying him like that makes your stomach turn with shame, but also deepens your rage. Peter knows that you could turn him in, and it still wasn’t a good enough reason to stay with you. What a friend indeed.

It comes to a head soon enough. You and Peter are walking down a hallway, starting from opposite sides. You should have just passed by without a single word, but he stumbles and brushes shoulders with you. It was probably an accident, but to you, it was the icing on the cake for Peter’s terrible behavior.

You might not have handled it as you should. You might have muttered a few choice swears under your breath just loud enough that he would hear you, and Peter did. He stopped walking abruptly, face twisting in indignation.

“Well, excuse me,” he says, syllables dripping with irritation.

You stop too, turning around to face him. The anger swooping through your veins makes your entire body hum with satisfaction; this is the fight you’ve wanted for a very long time, a chance to rehash all your grievances now that he’s forced to acknowledge you again.

“Oh, my bad,” you say, “I didn’t think you were aware of what I was saying or doing anymore. My mistake.”

Surprise flashes across Peter’s face, and is replaced with annoyance just as quickly. “Jeez, Y/N, it’s not a big deal. We barely knocked into each other, it’s not like you died or something.”

You scoff. “That’s probably for your own good. I doubt you’d even show up to the funeral.”

Hurt replaces anger in Peter’s eyes. “What are you talking about?”

God, he’s so full of it. Doesn’t know what you’re talking about. He probably doesn’t even think he’s done anything wrong. “I’m talking about the fact that you’ve been avoiding me for weeks now. What, figured you’d dump me the second you could upgrade? Tell Gwen she can keep you, I don’t want to be associated with someone like you anymore.”

Peter starts asking you what you mean by ‘someone like him,’ but you’ve already turned back around and have continued on your path down the hall, footsteps loud and indignant. Peter is soon swallowed up by the crowd of students still trying to get to class, and you’re able to storm away like you’ve won that little argument.

Have you, though? You were hoping for a fight ever since he started dropping you. You were certain that a chance to yell at him and tell him he was wrong would be just what you’ve been wanting all along, but instead of victorious, all you feel is sick and weak. Every verbal blow hurt you just as much as it hurt Peter.

It doesn’t feel good, to be honest. You feel restless the rest of the day, shifting in your seat and unable to concentrate. You hurry home the second the bell rings, and the next day, and the next. You are unhappy, missing every day that you’d had Peter’s friendship, that you hadn’t even thought that you could lose it.

Maybe that’s why you stop being as careful as you usually are. Maybe that’s why you end up walking through the city late at night when you always know better, why you don’t notice the men following you until it’s too late, until two of them are holding up guns to your head and telling you to give them everything.

You freeze, which is stupid, of course, but it doesn’t even occur to you that something like this could possibly happen. They shout at you to get moving, which breaks you from your trance and you start rifling through your pockets for your phone and wallet.

The increase in volume also attracts attention, as it turns out. Before you can hand over a single dollar, someone swoops in from above, knocking out the robbers in a matter of seconds. He turns to you, and when the moon shines on his mask from above you realize you recognize the suit after all. This is Spider-Man, New York’s favorite vigilante.

You’re not so distracted by meeting a superhero in the flesh that you don’t miss his sharp intake of breath. He should have no idea who you are, but– he stops in his tracks anyway, stumbles over his words, asks you frankly what you’re doing out here in a way utterly uncommon to the usually smooth Spider-guy.

Instead of making you pleased that someone’s finally looking out for you, though, you just feel a rush of annoyance. Everyone seems fit to decide what you should and shouldn’t do, don’t they?

You fold your arms over your chest. “Yeah, I know I shouldn’t have been out here. My bad for almost getting robbed.”

Spider-Man raises his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, hey. I’m not trying to victim-blame. Just trying to watch out for you, alright?” A pause, then, “Are you alright, though? Outside of the robbery?”

You should shake your head, plaster on a smile, tell him otherwise. It’s what he expects, what he wants so he can swing away, job well done, and go save someone else.

You crack. God, it feels like it’s been so long since someone actually cared, that even though this guy has no idea who you are and he doesn’t care, not really, even the illusion of it is enough for you to answer him honestly.

“No,” you force out, “I’m miserable. My best friend abandoned me without a care. Nothing makes sense.”

You swear you can sense Spider-Man’s eyes widening behind his suit. “What? No, he wouldn’t have abandoned you. You’re a good person, he wouldn’t do that, Y/N, I wouldn’t– he wouldn’t–”

Your blood runs cold the second you catch his mistake, and you cut off his rambles mid sentence. “How do you know who I am? I never told you my name.”

Spider-Man stumbles backwards slightly, even though you never pushed him. “I– you told me. You did.”

“No,” you insist, “I didn’t. You knew it. You know who I am.”

You narrow your eyes, trying to think about why something about Spider-Man’s voice sounds familiar, and then– “Shit, Peter?”

If Peter had been fidgeting before, moving around slightly to alternate his weight from foot to foot, he goes absolutely stock still now. That’s how you know you’re right. You press a hand to your mouth as if you can force the words back into your throat. “What the hell are you doing, Peter?”

Silence. Then:  “I was saving you.”

You laugh, low in your throat. “What, so you can ignore me in school tomorrow? Great job, I feel very saved indeed.”

You try to push past him, but Peter blocks your path, pulling off his mask in one jerky movement so you’re forced to stare at him. Him, his blown pupils, his mouth forming your name in helpless loops of syllables until it doesn’t sound your name at all but meaningless noise.

“I didn’t want to,” he says quietly, “I didn’t want to leave you, but the things I do– you would have gotten hurt, Y/N, and it would have been my fault, and–”

You’re not willing to let go of your anger quite yet. “You should have told me, then. I would have watched out for both of us.”

“I tried to tell you,” Peter says desperately, “I came to your room the night after I was bit, remember? I told you everything.”

It isn’t enough. Probably never will be. “You could have trusted me enough to keep me around,” you breathe, “You didn’t have to use the bite as an excuse to leave me.”

“It wasn’t an excuse,” he pleads, but you’re not listening anymore.

It may not have been at the start, but it’s how he used it anyway. To leave you. To get Gwen. To get everything he wanted at the cost of your friendship. “I deserve more than this,” you say.

“I know,” he says, “I know.”

He doesn’t. If he did, he never would have left. Peter might still be whispering those same nothings and empty promises even now, hours later. You wouldn’t know; you left him standing there, the wind tearing at his hair. He didn’t try to stop you, and you didn’t try to stay. Maybe he’s lying awake now just like you are, running your brain on endless courses of what could have been and what might still be.

Instead, you’ll be the one avoiding eye contact in the halls, and he’ll be the one driving himself insane to figure out why. You know the truth at last, and the whole affair is finally out of your hands. It does not make you happy to remember all the times you’d been closer than brothers, how you have nothing left anymore, how Gwen has replaced you in every sense than a person can be replaced. It’s okay, though. The unhappy ones stay alive. You’ll be alright. You have to be.

marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie-moved, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy

[babyflorencee]

P.s I love you

Peter Parker x fem!Reader

It was around midnight and I was sitting down at my desk, trying to complete my English paper that's due in the morning. I was finishing up the 3rd paragraph when I heard the sound of light tapping noises on my window. Knowing it was most likely my boyfriend Peter, I got up and walked over to the window, opening it for him.

When I pulled back the drapes, a light gasp escaped my mouth at the sight that was in-front of me. Peter was in his spiderman suit, which was littered with rips and stains. He had a black eye, a busted lip, and his entire body was stained with what I believe, and in the back of my mind, what I hoped, was his own blood.

I quickly unlocked the window, helping him in. "What the hell happened to you?" I whisper shouted.

He lifted his right leg over, stumbling into my room. I quickly grabbed onto his arm, trying to help him stabilize. I dragged him over to my bed, kneeling down in front of his legs, to examine his current state.

He had his head down, trying to not make eye contact with me. I let out a huff of annoyance as I got up from my kneeling position, "Wait here," I said, leaving my room so I could get some supplies.

Once I came back, he was sitting down on my bed, with the top of his suit off, revealing his toned abs. I walked over towards him, crouching down, giving him my best disappointed look. "Look—" He started, but I cut him off.

"I don't want to hear it."

Was that a little harsh? Yes, yes, it was.

But in my defense, he promised me that he'd take a break from fighting today, since he was already badly injured from a fight he had lost a few days ago. It hasn't even been 4 hours and he has already broken his promise.

Once I finished cleaning the blood off his face and chest, I left the room once again to dump out the blood-soaked water and to wash my hands. "Y/n, please don't be mad at me," Peter said, giving me his puppy dog eyes.

I ignored him, walking over to my dresser, pulling out a pair of basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt, which originally belong to Peter. I tossed it at him, sitting down at my desk so I could finish my essay.

A couple minutes go by and I hear him shuffling around. I assume, so he could change out of his suit. "Y/n—" He whined, hugging me from behind, and sticking his head into my neck.

"What?" I replied, harshly.

He spun my chair around so I was facing him. "I'm sorry," he said, taking my face into his hands and pressing a light kiss to my lips.

"Please forgive me?"

"Fine, but you better not show up at my window tomorrow all bloody," I said, pointing my index finger at him and giving him a jokingly stern look.

"yes ma'am," he laughed, pressing another kiss to my lips.

"Can we cuddle now?" He opened his arms wide, giving me a goofy smile.

I laughed at his expression. "I got to finish this." I said, showing him my computer.

"I'll do it for you if we can cuddle right now." He offered, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine," I gave in, knowing that if he did my assignment, I would most likely get a higher grade on the paper than I would if I did it.

I stood up from my chair to be immediately thrown over his shoulder. He walked over towards my bed, throwing me harshly on it before he got in as well, laying down on top of me and burying his head into the crook of my neck, his hair tickling me a little. "Good night Petey," I said.

He took his head out of my neck, giving me a disgusted look, making me laugh once again at his face expression. "Night," He mumbled, falling asleep on me.

*** The next morning, I woke up to be greeted by an empty bed. I groaned, sitting up as I looked at the clock. A small gasp escaped my lips when I realized that I was about to be late for school. I got up, sloppily putting on my outfit, before walking over towards my desk, praying that Peter hadn't forgotten to do the assignment. I scrolled down, feeling my heart flutter at what he had written. Not only did he finish my paper, but he also wrote a brief note at the bottom.

'Sorry, I had to leave. I didn't want to deal with Aunt May. Meet me under the bleacher at lunch. PS. I love you.'

[spiderfunkz]

─── 𐙚 moon, rain, & our hearts intertwined

pairings. peter parker x fem!reader

word count. 0,3k

cw. fluff, everything u expect from a nerdy + awkward guy, established relationship, some spider-man swining action, and a kiss (in the rain).

a/n : been so busy lately so i haven't written a fic in a while. this is kinda rusty, dunno if i'll be posting more after this but lets just see..

"oh, it's raining." peter looked up, he should've known. should've picked a different day where the skies are free of tears. he frowns as he turns around, "shoot, i forgot my umbrella. sorry."

"nonsense. it's just rain." you smile, "we can wait it out." you added, you both are standing underneath the awning anyways.

he stood beside you, hands down, pinky reaching out to yours. a small gesture you always thought was cute. "it's raining hard, it'll be up for a while," — "that's okay. i have all the time in the world." you lean your head on his shoulder.

"the moon's coming up," peter pointed. the stars were starting to shine under the surprisingly empty street you're on. peter knew this street well, he knew it was quiet, humble. the perfect spot to have a third date with.

the restaurant was quaint, old-fashioned, and definitely underrated. fairly cozy too.

you hum, harmonizing with the buzz-y streetlights. "do you trust me?" peter asks, "why shouldn't i?" you raise a brow.

peter knew it was risky, but boy—would it be a memory.

"okay. i'll swing you to your place. don't worry, your curls won't get damaged. i promise. my jacket will be on your head and i'll hold you tight." he says, it sounded more like a statement rather than a suggestion. his voice was low, though, he knew the old couple sitting by couldn't hear him either way.

"you promise you won't drop me?"

he giggles, "i would never drop you, promise."

you nod your head, agreeing as he lent his jacket to you. it smelled like him, or rather the cologne you bought for him. he never used another one since.

the minute after that felt like a rush. at least your curls were fine though. the rest of you, whatever, you knew peter will fix you up after.

the land to your place snapped you out of the rush. "you okay?" peter fixed up the jacket covering your head, "yeah, are you?" you laugh, peter's hair was drenched.

"i think so." he smiled.

"the rain smudged your lipstick." he wiped. he's always so gentle with you, his touch is soft.

"still pretty." he smiles.

"do i get a goodbye kiss now, bugboy?"

he leans in, never mind, he thought. today was the perfect day, the rain is no one against the two of you.

[irndad]

* Gardenia - the love of a friend who doesn’t want to just be friends

This screams both tasm!peter to me. Also Remus. Both. Both is good.

a/n: he's my husband officer i love him / prompts are open bb!!! tasm!peter parker x reader

The realization sweeps over him like the invention of technicolor- slow, warm bursts of an entirely new perspective. Her company has been present more often, and he’s slowly becoming addicted to the sight of her. 

Harry introduced the both of them. Peter’s been in kind of an odd space since graduating college, and so sometimes when he meets Harry’s grad student friends he can be a little intimidating. She was no exception. 

Except she was, wasn’t she?

Peter recalls the first time he ever met her, warm twinkling fairy lights of Harry’s apartment illuminating her features. She’d smiled at him, a gentle thing, all warm disposition and kind eyes, and Peter had almost felt his knees buckle under her gaze. 

He’s somehow managed to be charming enough to get her to enjoy his company for almost two months. They’re friends, or whatever you call being the first person the other hears from in the morning. Peter keeps a picture of her in his wallet for luck. He’s not very good at hiding the things he wants, but she’s not the kind of woman who dates guys like him, at least in his perception. 

Still, tonight, this is easy to forget. She’s in his apartment, soda poured into wine glasses, his head on her shoulder, drunk on the way she laughs and the fact she chose to spend her night with him. She’s got a finite amount of time, and she’s chosen to spend it with her legs on top of his. She’s so, so warm. The show he’s put on is the least of his worries, the least captivating thing he can imagine. 

He’s made them dinner, called Harry in a panic about three times even though if you’d have asked Peter before tonight if this was a date, he’d be sure you were insane. There’s a somatic sense of urgency, now, heightened senses attuned to her every movement. There’s a lot of curses to the spider-bite but this- the way that she feels in his arms, how her perfume lingers in his senses, how her so-soft skin feels on his own, her fingers carding through his hair lazily- 

“What’s on your mind?” She says, a giggle in her voice. 

“This is nice,” he replies, turning to look up at her. She’s just so nice to look at.

“Stop looking at me that way,” she says, warmth creeping up her cheeks, delicate hands covering her face in embarrassment. He turns to face her, and she smells like vanilla perfume and everything he wants.

“What way?” There’s an uncontrollable flirt in his tone, and it’s hard to admit how much he’s proud of the fact it’s him that made her feel that way. It’s a lot of restraint he’s used to not call her baby. 

“Like that,” she murmurs. He thinks he might see her eyes flicker to his lips, and his chest roars with want. He’s drunk on all of it, the feeling of her so close, the kindest person he’s had the good fortune to meet. 

“I can’t help it,” he says back, unashamedly staring back at her adorable pout, “I just wanna…”

It’s months of pining, of waiting and watching and listening to the sound of her heart when he leans over and kisses her. He’s not sure if he’s fucked it, but then- then she leans into him, kisses him back, warm and soft and isn’t this the point of being a person? Getting to be held like this? 

She actually ends up staying the night, in an incredibly mundane way. Harry finds them just that way in the morning, wrapped around each other like knots on a cherry stem. Peter doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed. 

[marie-swriting]

Back To Life - TASM!Peter Parker

Marvel Masterlist

Speak Now TV Masterlist

Summary : Your mom and May set you and Peter up on a date, thinking you'll be a good match but both of you think it won't work.

Warnings : mention of Gwen's and Uncle Ben's deaths, mention of toxic relation (no details), anxiety, a bit of angst, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3.1k

French version

Song inspiration : Electric Touch by Taylor Swift Feat. Fall Out Boys (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

Your clothes are scattered everywhere in your room; it looks like there has been a tornado though it doesn’t stop you from looking for the perfect outfit in your closet. Wrapped in a bathroom towel, despair takes over your body, you should have never listened to your mom. At least, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You grunt when someone knocks on your bedroom door, you tell the person to come in and your mom enters.

“You’re still not ready? He’s coming in thirty minutes!”

“Yes, mom, I know!” you drily retort before taking a softer voice, “Sorry. I just don’t know what to wear, I’m getting fed up.”

“Just put on something you feel good in.”

“Easier said than done! I only find flaws in my clothes. I don’t even know why I listened to you in the first place. I don’t even know him and we already have a date. This guy might be awful.” you start to ramble, pacing around your room. “I mean, you don’t even really know him either. You only know what your colleague May told you. Maybe she made him better than he actually is!”

“I might not know him personally, though I’ve seen him several times and do I need to remind you you saw him once, too. You even found him cute.”

“I saw him for five minutes, two years ago, it doesn’t count.”

“I’m sure Peter is a nice guy.” your mom affirms, stroking your cheek to calm you down. “Just to prove it to you, whenever May forgets her lunch, he always brings it to her with a big smile on his face and a kiss on the cheek. He always comes with her at work when it’s dark. And every time I talked with him, he was really polite. Do you seriously think I would have set you up on a date with the first guy I found? I have some instincts, sweetheart.”

“I’m still not convinced. We only exchanged, like, three messages and it was just to make sure it was still okay for today. Besides, maybe he won’t like me. And even if it works out tonight, who knows if it’ll last? I got a history of stories ending badly. That’s it, I’m not going, it’ll be for the better.” you state, taking your phone but your mom takes it from your hands.

“You’re not gonna cancel. Just breathe, just relax, it’ll be okay.” she tells you softly. “Look, I know your last relationship with George went bad and you suffered a lot because of it but you can’t keep closing your heart to new people because you’re scared you’ll find another version of him. Furthermore, even if things didn’t match between you and Peter, which I know won't be the case, you would have at least taken a step forward, you don’t have to be worried. Come on, put this on and you’ll see, you’ll be beautiful and at ease in your clothes.” your mom adds as she gives you a mid-length dress. “I have to go to work. Text me when you’re home, okay? Be careful. It’s going to be okay, sweetheart, I’m sure.”

Your mom kisses you one last time on the forehead before leaving your room. You let go of a sigh then finish getting ready. While doing your makeup, you can’t help but keep checking your phone, waiting for a potential message from Peter telling you the date is cancelled. Your mom managed to calm your anxiety down, yet your fear quickly came back once you’re alone again. For you, this date can only end in two ways: either it ends badly and it’ll break your heart, which is most likely to happen, or everything will be good and your heart will finally heal, which you doubt. You wonder if Peter is in the same state of mind as you.

The answer is easy: his state of panic is worse than yours. He only agreed to this date to make Aunt May happy. Since Gwen’s death, he has closed himself off but now, he wants to make an effort. However, among those efforts, ‘going out with other people’ wasn’t part of it, especially if it ends up putting another person he loves in danger; he can’t reproduce what happened with Gwen. At first, he tried to get out of it, though May insisted so much that he gave in. He sees this date as his last chance to check if he can have a romantic life whilst being Spider-man. He’d love for it to work just one time yet he can’t help but be pessimistic about it. 

Knowing you’re only meeting at the end of the day, Peter decided to go on his daily patrol earlier. Nothing much stands out of the ordinary, therefore, he comes home just on time to get ready. At least, no matter if this date is catastrophic, he’s sure he’ll be on time.

Entering his room, he takes off his Spider-man suit and takes a shower. In his closet, he takes the first outfit he finds then he starts panicking. 

“It’s a first date, I can’t wear whatever clothes I find,” he tells himself. 

He’s about to change when he wonders why he’s overthinking this much when he knows it’s not gonna work out. You’re probably not going to like him or vice-versa. So, he puts back on his black t-shirt and takes a glance at himself in the mirror. His outfit is casual, maybe too casual for a first date. He should add a jacket. He can’t tell the difference it makes. He has no idea if his outfit is okay. After all, he doesn’t want to try too much but on the other hand, he wants to try a bit, you deserve to have a date with a guy who is presentable. He ends up changing his black t-shirt for a dark blue one. It’s less sad, isn’t it? As soon as he checks the time, he realises he can’t think any longer and goes to do his hair. May interrupts him to tell him she’s leaving for work.

“You look cute like this, I’m sure Y/N will agree with me.”

“Don’t know.” Peter mutters, turning around to be in front of May.

“Believe me, it’s already the case. Her mom told me you caught her eyes.” She affirms with a big smile.

“It doesn’t mean this date will go well. I’m not even sure I want to go out with someone else, Aunt May.”

“Peter, I know Gwen’s death has been hard on you but you can’t stay stuck in a world where Gwen is with you,” May starts as she puts her hands on her nephew. “You have to move on. That doesn’t mean you’re going to forget her. Gwen will always be in your heart and that’s normal, but it doesn’t mean you can’t let another person in. Besides, this date doesn’t have to end with a relationship. I’m already proud to see you allow yourself to move on despite the pain.”

“I miss her.” Peter whispers.

“I know, honey.”

“Do you think pain ever stops?”

“I think it becomes easier to live with it,” May softly answers. “You know, now I can think about your Uncle Ben without feeling my heart breaking completely. I can think about the good memories first before remembering he’s not here anymore. It’ll be okay for you, too, Peter. I’m sure of it.”

Peter smiles one last time at his aunt while she leaves the room. When Peter is ready, he checks his phone and sees you haven’t cancelled last minute, so he has no other choice than leaving to take the subway. Technically, he should be at your place at 7:00 P.M. sharp so you can go to a dinner which is fifteen minutes away from your home. 

In the subway, Peter’s stress gets higher and higher as he thinks about what he could say to you, after all, he doesn’t know you. Your conversations might be empty and if it’s the case, it’s going to be a very very long date. As he thinks about a question he could ask you as an icebreaker, the subway abruptly stops. Peter looks through the windows and he sees they haven’t arrived at the next station yet. Suddenly, a voice interrupts Peter’s interrogations as it informs them:

“Dear passengers, we are currently having some technical difficulties. We are doing everything we can to fix the situation as quickly as possible. We apologise for this inconvenience.”

Peter sighs once he hears this information. He is going to be late. Great. He takes his phone out of his pocket to text you but, of course, he doesn’t have a signal.

For him, this breakdown is like a sign, he shouldn’t have accepted to go out with someone. Even if all of this doesn’t end like Gwen, the fact is, it won’t work, it’s for certain. He’d like not to suffer again, yet Peter feels like he’s allergic to happiness. 

Peter tries to calm down his anxiety as he thinks back to Aunt May’s words and puts his phone away before waiting until the situation is fixed. 

As for you, you’re waiting for Peter, sitting on your living room couch. It’s almost seven, he should be here any minute now. From time to time, you glance at the window but you don’t see him. The more the time goes by, the more you’re fidgeting. 

“Just breathe, just relax, it’ll be okay”, your mother’s words resonate in your head in vain.

Your eyes go from the window to your phone, both of them bring you no news about Peter’s whereabouts. You start biting your lips, imagining the worst case scenarios. Maybe he stood you up? No, your mom assured you he was a nice guy, he wouldn’t do it. Maybe you gave him the wrong address? You check your messages and discover you made no mistake. Maybe you were wrong on the day and time of the date? Once again, your messages prove you wrong. Maybe something bad happened to him, then? No, you can’t start imagining awful things. He’s just late, nothing else. Right?

You wait a little bit more and when it’s half past seven, you text him to know where he is. You don’t get an answer. You start biting your nails whilst your heart begins to race in your chest, the stress getting out of hand, you don’t understand what’s happening and you start second-guessing this date. It was clearly a mistake, you should have never agreed to it. You would have loved for it to work for once however it seems like you’re doomed. You were right, you are going to have your heart broken and this date will end badly - if Peter ever shows up.

After being stuck for forty minutes in the subway, Peter finally arrives at your station. He weaves in between people as he runs so he isn’t any later than he already is. Five minutes later, he sees your house from afar. As soon as he passes by your living room window,  you see him running like he’s being chased by something. Checking your phone, you see it’s 8:05. He’s more than an hour late, at that realisation, you roll your eyes. He better have a good excuse. You have already had guys who weren’t punctual, you don’t need another one! 

Once he’s at your door, he quickly runs a hand in his hair, takes a deep breath before knocking. He waits for a moment before you open the door. As soon as he sees you, Peter is mesmerised by your beauty so he just stands there, saying nothing. When you give him a look, he snaps back before speaking. 

“I’m so sorry for being late. I was stuck in the subway and-”

“I would have appreciated a text.” you interrupt him, drily.

“I didn’t have a signal. I got one once I arrived at the station. Normally, I’m always on time, I swear. I’m sorry I made you wait. You probably thought I stood you up which is totally normal but I didn’t. I tried to come here as soon as I could when the subway worked again.” Peter explains and you can tell he’s being sincere. “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I? I didn’t mean it. I totally get it if you don't want us to go out.”

“I still want to. The subway broke down, it’s not your fault,” you reassure him with a smile.

Upon hearing your sentence, Peter smiles back at you. Even if he wasn’t excited to go out with you, he made a commitment to you and he always makes sure to fulfil his promises.

You take your bag and close your front door. Peter lets you walk first and you go to the diner. On the way there, you ask Peter a few more questions about the subway breakdown, not really knowing what topic is best to bring first.

Once you’re at your table, you keep doing small talk. Just by looking at you two, people could tell you’re not at ease, you don’t know how to act toward the other. None of you is ready to have a deep conversation. It's as if you have forgotten how to act on a first date. You even think about making up an excuse to leave. The conversation is awkward until you order your food. After talking about yet another random topic, Peter sighs before talking: 

“I’m sure this situation is as awkward for you as it is for me. Your mom and my aunt set us up but it doesn’t mean it has to feel like this. I don’t know for you, but it’s my first date in a long time and I’m a bit rusty. My last relationship ended…, let’s just say, tragically, and so maybe we don’t really need to put big expectations for tonight. We should just get to know each other without expecting anything in particular and just see where it leads us, if that’s okay with you?”

“That’s okay with me.” you agree, letting go of a sigh of relief. “My last relationship ended badly, too. It was pretty toxic and I have to admit I need to warm up to new people first.”

“Let’s take it slowly then. No need to have a big romantic date, let’s just have a nice moment with someone new. What do you say?”

“I say I agree with you.”

From that moment on, the tension leaves your table, letting you get to know each other in peace. Peter asks some questions about the last book you read and quickly, you start talking about your interests, no matter if you have them in common or not. 

In the end, you spend a good moment together. You hadn’t laughed that much in a long time. Peter is instantly enamoured by your laugh, loving the way your face brightens. Peter talks a bit about him and you have to admit you like his personality more and more. You mom was right, Peter is genuinely nice. At some points, you both mention your last relationship, without going into too much detail. You still have a long way to go, though you’re not against the idea of walking side by side.

After eating, you stay a bit longer at the restaurant, not noticing the time going by. When you leave, it’s past 10:00 P.M. As soon as you’re outside, you shiver because of the cold night. Peter notices it and offers you his jacket. At first, you refuse, but he insists so you accept it. As he puts his jacket on your shoulder, his right hand brushes past your shoulder and you shiver again, yet  this time, it’s not because of the cold, your heart also beats faster yet, not because of your anxiety. His touch is like electricity and upon raising your head, you see how close Peter is to you and you think about how even more beautiful he is at this distance. You try not to show anything as you start walking to your place.

On the way home, you keep talking and you wish this moment would never end. You never thought you’d feel this connected to a man this quickly. As for Peter, he never thought he would let himself look tenderly at another woman who isn’t Gwen. Aunt May was right, Gwen will always be in his heart however he’s not as against the idea of letting someone new in as he used to be. Maybe not right away, but if you were to find your way to his heart, he would be happy about it.

Once you’re in front of your door, you give Peter his jacket back and you secretly hope to touch his hand but the clothes prevent you from doing it. You smile at Peter as he finishes talking about his theory about the multiverse. 

“It was really nice tonight. I didn’t think I would have such a great time.” he smiles.

“Me neither. I had some apprehension.”

“I get it.”

“You know, I wouldn’t mind doing something like this again,” you start, avoiding his gaze, “I’d be happy to see where this leads us, even if we’re taking our time.”

“I’d be happy about it, too. Do you think it’s too soon to tell you you’re stunning? I’ve been thinking about it all evening and I just thought I should tell you before leaving and regret not telling you.”

At his compliment, your cheeks heat up while a smile makes its way on your face which Peter finds more than cute. Knowing he made you smile warms his heart.

“It’s not too soon, I appreciate the compliment. You’re cute, too. And do you think it’ll be too soon if I kissed your cheek?” you ask and Peter freezes. Instantly, you regret your question and you don’t know what to do with yourself. “Sorry, I went too far, I shouldn’t have.”

“I just didn’t expect this but I wouldn’t mind.”

A bit embarrassed, you get closer to Peter and put your hand on his cheek before kissing his right one. Feeling your touch on his skin, Peter can’t breathe for a second. He didn’t think your touch would be this electric on his skin. The kiss was short yet it’s already engraved in his memory. He knows he’s going to think about it every second of the day. When you back up, you wish him a good night before entering your house. Peter stands there until your door is closed, then he leaves your porch, a big smile on his lips. 

You both lovingly think back to the evening you’ve just had. You know it’s only the beginning, though you already know one just like the other will know how to bring your heart back to life. You already want to see each other again and maybe it’ll take some time to allow yourself to fully fall in love again, but you don’t mind. For once, you know it’s going to end well.

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