#parker is going a little crazy!!

[4pp13-ju1c3]

this ONEs a real doozy!! (i am ill and will not recover. this series has left me irreparably damaged)

[petergender]

did any other teenage lesbians try everything in their power to become as peter parker esque as possible or was that just me

[waitimcomingtoo]

I’ll Cry If I Want To

Pairing: enemies to lovers!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: you get stood up on your birthday and Peter attempts to cheer you up despite your feud

Masterlist

Peter walked into the kitchen in the tower and was immediately greeted by a confetti popper exploding in his face followed by a tender kiss on the forehead from Tony.

“Oh, my. Good morning to me.” Peter smiled at the greeting.

“Damn it, Parker.” Tony groaned. “I thought you were my little girl.”

“Don’t feel bad, daddy. A lot of people confuse Peter for a little girl.” You said as you walked into the kitchen behind Peter. The two of you made eye contact and you gave him an innocent smile while he rolled his eyes at you.

“Ha ha.“ He said sarcastically and then hissed at you like a cat. You gave him a look as you walked over to your dad.

“Happy birthday, baby girl.” Tony said and pulled you into a long hug.

“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled and hugged him back.

“Thank you, daddy.” Peter said in a high pitched voice to mock you. You and Tony looked at him and he quickly cleared his throat.

“Sorry. What I meant to say was, happy birthday. I didn’t know that was today. I mean, I’d been wondering why you looked so old but I assumed it was from your lack of sunscreen use.”

“Nice try. I wear sunscreen everyday.” You replied.

“Really?” He gasped. “Might want to up that SPF a few. You look like a crumbled piece of paper and not in a fun Taylor Swift way.”

“Don’t talk to me about skincare, Rudolf.” You snapped and tapped your nose twice to point out the zit on the tip of Peter nose. He covered it with his hand and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Children, please. No fighting. It stops my moisturizer from sinking in.” Tony sighed and rubbed circles into his skin.

“Sorry, daddy. I just wanted to make sure Peter knew about the giant pimple on his nose in case he was going to see anyone today.” You said as you smiled sweetly at Peter. He discreetly flipped you off by scratching his cheek with his middle finger.

“Any plans for the night, jelly bean?” Tony asked you.

“Nothing crazy. My friends are coming over later for a sleepover.”

“Oh God. Is this gonna be one of those crazy parties where you all get drunk and things get out of hand and you accidentally kill someone and have to dispose of the body together while hijixs ensues?” Peter. whined.

“No, because this isn’t one of the pornos you watch.” You scoffed.

“Pfft. That is not what I watch.” He insisted. “Where would I even find something like that? What would I even type? I’m open to suggestions.”

“Shut up.” You laughed. “You’re such a weirdo. And don’t be hanging around when my friends are here. I already told them you’re a pervert and on the FBI watch list so you don’t have a chance with any of them.”

“I don’t want to date your freakbob friends anyway.” He scoffed. “And to keep it down tonight, will you? I already wake up the birds chirping every morning. I don’t want to hear you birds all night too.”

“I actually came up with a solution for that. What if you killed yourself?” You asked through a smile.

“That’s a great idea. I might give that a whirl today if I’m not busy.” He replied and matched your smile.

“You? Busy?” You laughed. “Please. Busy doing what?”

“Peter and I are gonna be in the lab doing boring stuff with the suits. Adjustments, additions, and what have you.” Tony answered you.

“Oh. Okay. Do you need any help?” You asked.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that on your birthday, baby girl. Peters got it.” Tony replied, making your smile falter a little.

“Yeah. I’ve got it.” Peter boasted and gave you a smug look. You glared at him for a moment before looking back at your dad.

“I’ll catch you later for some cake, okay honey bun?” Tony told you before kissing your forehead.

“Okay. Bye. Have fun.” You smiled sadly as he left the room.

“You look greasy, by the way.” Peter said once you were alone.

“Like I care what you think. Even your hairline won’t stay with you.” You scoffed and nodded towards his forehead.

“It’s not actually receding, is it?” He asked and touched his hair.

“Maybe your forehead is just getting bigger.” You shrugged and popped a grape in your mouth from the bowl on the table.

“Bite me.” He replied and stopped touching his hair.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You chuckled. “Isn’t that how you got your powers, spider boy?”

“Yup. What do you think would happen if you bite me? Would I be able to a do anything a total bitch can?” He wondered, making you pelt a grape at him. He caught it with ease and popped it into his mouth.

“Watch your mouth before I bring out the peppermint essential oils again.” You warned him.

“You wouldn’t.” He said quietly.

“Try me.” You shrugged. You stared at each other across the kitchen for a moment before Peter gave up.

“You win. Here’s your card. Happy birthday, gaylord.” He said as he handed you a homemade birthday card from his jeans pocket before quickly running out of the room. You rolled your eyes at him but smiled once he was gone and read the card. As annoying as you normally found him, you appreciated that he remembered your birthday. Inside the card was a crude drawing of the two of you fighting next to a drawing of a gift card to Planet Fitness.

Peter strolled into your bedroom around 10 pm when he had grown curious as to why your friends weren’t there yet. It was getting kind of late and you had listed many activities that you had planned to do while Peter begrudgingly listened to you talk earlier in the day. You were still in your room by yourself so he went in and knocked on your door to see what was happening.

“Hey dingus. When are your dumb friends getting here? I need to know when I should jam my ears with scissors.” Peter said as he leaned against your doorway. You were sitting on your bed with your knees draw to your chest and your chin resting on top of them as you stared out the window.

“Do that anyway.” You mumbled and didn’t move from your position.

“I’m going to. I can’t listen to you all yap about when Reputation TV is coming all night. And your friend Stacy’s theories are always way off.” He continued. You still didn’t turn to look at him and his smirk dropped when he heard a sniffle. He frowned and took a step into your room.

“Hello? I knew you were dumb but did you forget how to turn your neck or something?” He said to try to make you laugh. You stayed still and he craned his neck to try to see your face.

“Seriously though, when are they coming?”

“They’re not coming.” You said finally in a horse voice.

“Why? What happened? Did they finally realize you’re an annoying brat whose only redeeming quality is access to daddy’s credit card?” Peter teased in another attempt to make you laugh.

“Something like that.” You mumbled. Peter frowned and finally realized that something was actually wrong. He sat down on your bed and reached his hand out.

“Whats going on? Are you okay?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Just go away.” You said sadly and wiped tears from your face. Peter shot a web at a tissue box on your dresser and pulled it over.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened.” He said and handed you a tissue. You gave him a skeptical look and he held up one hand in defense while waving the tissue in the other like a white flag. You sighed and took the tissue before wiping your eyes.

“They found out it wasn’t a yacht party or at some fancy restaurant or some elitist club in Tribeca so they all cancelled.“ You said as you nervously ripped the tissue up in your hands.

“They cancelled? Why?”

“Because no one wants to come to my party. They want to come to a Stark Industries party with puppies in the gift bags and acrobats suspended from the ceiling and Avengers walking around like party clowns. Just hanging out with me wasn’t cool enough so they all bailed.” You sniffled and turned back to look out the window. Peter raised his hand to place it on your shoulder but then drew it back. He didn’t know if he was who you’d want to comfort you and he didn’t want to push it.

“I’m sorry.” He said instead.

“Like you care.” You laughed sadly and held your knees tighter to your chest.

“I do care.” He insisted. “And I’m very sorry this happened to you tonight.”

“No you’re not.” You scoffed. “You’re probably thrilled to see me like this. This is probably the greatest moment of your dumb life.”

“It’s not.” He said quietly. You finally whipped around to look at Peter and he saw the pain in your red eyes.

“It’s not? Look at me, Peter. I’m pathetic. I’m alone on my birthday because I wasn’t good enough for anyone to hang out with.” You exclaimed. Peter went quiet as you slowly caught your breath. You teased each other all the time but you’d never actually yelled at him before. You wiped your eyes with the tissue before staring at your hands.

“You were right.” You said quietly. “I am just a spoiled brat who people only like because of my connections. And I’m sure you’re anxiously waiting for me to shut up so you can say “I told you so” and prove to me once again that I’m always wrong.”

You and Peter sat in silence for a minute without looking at each other. Peter felt guilty that you were expecting him to kick you while you were down. You were feeling your own guilt for snapping at him when he was trying to be nice.

“I’m not gonna say that.” He said after a beat.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just go away.” You said miserably and turned back to the window. Peter opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he couldn’t find the words. He patted your shoulder twice before getting up and leaving your room. You turned to look at the door once he was gone and felt yourself missing his presence. You turned back to the window and stared out at the night sky through your teary eyes and let time pass.

After a while, you started to smell something. You sniffed the air until you recognized it as the scent of a something burning. Out of sheer curiosity, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and padded into the kitchen. You found Peter in the kitchen with a lace trimmed pink apron tied around his waist and flour smeared on his cheek. You smiled in surprise and leaned against the wall to watch him for a minute. He was humming to himself a song you didn’t recognize while scrapping a burnt black lump of something into the trash can. When he finally turned around, he jumped when he saw you.

“Jesus. You scared me. But I guess I should’ve known the smell of something baking would have your big back running to the kitchen like I hit the bat signal.”

“Shut up.” You chuckled. “What are you doing in here?”

“Well, your parents went to a movie since they thought your friends would be here. That means no ones home.” Peter began.

“And?” You asked.

“And so I thought we could fulfill a lifelong fantasy of mine and making sweet love to you on the kitchen counter.” He smiled suavely and raised his eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?” Your jaw dropped as he drummed his fingertips on the counter.

“I’m joking. I’m clearly baking a bake. Or, I tried. I guess 500 degrees was too hot.” He said and looked at the burnt cake in the trash.

“Yeah, that’s a few hundred above what it should be. But why are you baking? We have a chef for that.”

“Because it’s your birthday you miserable bitch. And everyone deserves a cake baked with love. Now do you prefer chocolate or vanilla frosting on your burnt cake?” He asked and held up two cans of frosting. You looked between the two before your eyes settled on him. You hugged your blanket tighter around yourself and shook your head.

“I don’t want your pity.” You said quietly.

“You don’t have it so shut up and grab a spatula before I rescind your choice in the matter and funfetti the fuck out of this cake.” He replied and held out a spatula. You stared at it and felt compelled to take it and join him, but you were still throwing yourself a pity party.

“No.”

“No? Look, I’m trying to cheer your dumb ass up so can you please work with me here?” Peter sighed and looked at you. You stared at him for a while before cracking the slightest smile. He noticed the smile and knew he had succeeded in his plan to cheer you up.

“Fine. But I’m not eating that. That’s what Santa puts in the bad kids stockings. We’ll make a new one. But I’m not touching raw eggs.” You told him and grabbed your dad’s matching pink apron from the drawer.

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Princess.” Peter mumbled under his breath. You glared at him through your lashes as you threw some flour and sugar into a bowl. Peter went to put the butter in but you pushed his hand away.

“It can’t be cold butter or it won’t mix properly. It has to be room temperature.” You explained as you filled a measuring cup with water.

“Oh. Let’s pop it in the microwave then.”

“We can’t do that either. Then the hot butter will scramble the eggs. Do you want little egg bits in your cake?” You asked him as you microwaved the cup of water for a minute.

“Maybe just a little.” Peter replied as he watched you put the butter into a small bowl and then place the bowl on top of the microwaved water.

“There. This will soften the butter without making it hot enough to scramble the eggs.” You explained. He looked between your little invention and you for a minute before smiling.

“Wow. That was really smart.” He said genuinely. “Women really do belong in the kitchen.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes as you set the temperature to the correct heat on the oven. Peter couldn’t help but watch you over his shoulder as you combined the rest of the dry ingredients and expertly cracked an egg in one hand. He rarely got to see you like this, no makeup and in lounge clothes. And he definitely never saw you upset before. He was used to the perfectly groomed and standoffish version of yourself so this change of pace brought him unexpected joy.

“Move over. That’s not how you mix batter. You need to fold it.” You told him and reminded him of the you he knew. You bumped him with your hip and put your hands over his to help him fold the batter.

“Like laundry?” He asked as his cheeks heated up.

“Like you know what laundry is, Pigpen. And no. A different folding. Like this.” You said and helped him mix the batter until it was the desired consistency.

“Oh wow. That worked really well. I usually just go sicko mode until it turns into goop.” He confessed.

“And how does that work out for you?” You asked him.

“Look in the trash and you’ll find out.” Peter replied and eyed the burnt cake in the garbage can. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and kept helping him fold the batter. Everytime he tried to stir the batter, you gently corrected his hands to fold it instead.

“Why don’t you just do it?” He asked when he started getting frustrated with himself.

“Because you won’t learn if I do it.” You replied in a softer tone. Peter went quiet since you were being unexpectedly nice to him. You let the batter sit for minute once you were satisfied and then poured in into a cake pan.

“There. Thats gonna take about 30 minutes to bake and then it needs to cool before we frost it.” You told him as you shut the oven door.

“Oh, so we have 30 minutes? Then circling back to that making love on the counter idea-“

“Shut it.” You warned him. Peter pretended to zipper his lips and throw away the key. You cracked a smile before starting to clean up the kitchen. Peter wordlessly helped you tidy up and you exchanged a soft smile with each other in the silence of the kitchen.

“What was your worst birthday?” You asked after a long beat of silence.

“Are you talking to me?” Peter asked after looking around.

“Peter, we’re the only ones in the room.”

“Sorry. It’s not like you’ve ever asked me a personal question before. It’s usually “are you stupid?” or “can you go away?” or “do you need a tampon cry baby?” He recalled, making you feel bad for always being so mean to him.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” You said quietly. “I sound a lot meaner than I thought I was.”

“I’m mean too.” Peter shrugged.

“You tease me.” You shook your head. “I’m just cruel.”

“I think we are an equal amount of mean to each other. Don’t let it keep you up at night. I’m sure your chronic yeast infections do that enough.” Peter tried to lighten the mood, but you didn’t crack a smile. You seemed faraway in thought and he was curious as to why.

“Do you think I’m hard to be around?” You asked after a minute. Peter was about to crack another joke until he saw the look on your face. He could tell you needed a friend right now and was filled with determination to be one.

“No. I think those girls you called your “friends” are hard to be around.” He said seriously. “I’ve seen you with them. They’re the mean ones. Them bailing tonight has nothing to do with you. They’re a bunch of shallow jerks who only care about the material things in life. They don’t care about having deep connections with people. They only care about deep pockets on people. I know this isn’t the first time they’ve ditched you. And I know you feel alone even when they are here because you’re never fully included. You think no one notices because you tell stories about your charming adventures together but I see it in your eyes. They make you feel like an afterthought. You act tough and pretend it doesn’t bother you but I know that it does. You shouldn’t hang out with them anymore.”

“Then who am I going to hang out with?” You shrugged sadly. “Without them, I don’t have any friends.”

“Sitting alone is better than sitting at a table where you’re the topic of conversation when you get up.” Peter said simply. You stared at him for a moment before your eyes fell to the floor.

“I just don’t want to be alone.” You said quietly. Peter nodded his head in understanding and let a silence fall between the two of for a while. He was going to say that you wouldn’t be alone because you’d have him, but he didn’t know if you wanted to hear that.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked.

“No.” You said immediately. You made eye contact and you let out a sigh.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Why don’t you like me?” He asked without looking into our eyes. You saw that coming and stared at him to try and get a sense of what was going on in his head. He slowly looked back up at you and gave you a weak smile.

“Do you remember that time the power went out in the city due to that Max guy or whatever and we all lit candles and hung out in the tower?”

“Uh oh.” Peter gulped. “You answered my question with another question. That can’t be good.”

“Shut up. Do you remember or not?” You asked and gently kicked his foot with your foot.

“I remember that.” He told you and held your gaze.

“You were new around here. You had just gotten your powers that year so I didn’t really know you yet. I had gone to look for more candles and found you crying on the floor of the linen closet.

“I remember that.” He nodded. “It was all so overwhelming to be here with the whole team. I had never felt so small.”

“I know. I told you I felt like that too sometimes. And then we stayed up for hours talking about every stupid thing we ever worried about and gave each other advice. I think at one point I gave you advice on how much conditioner to use.” You said as you replayed the night in your memory. You had a look on your face that Peter had never seen on you before. It was natural and relaxed and playful, all things he knew to be the opposite of you. It was so rare that the two of you were getting along and he didn’t want to do anything to ruin in.

“A dime sized amount and not on the roots. I still use that advice.” He chuckled. “You were so nice to me that night. You came in and pretended I wasn’t crying so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed. You just sat down with me and started talking ad if we’d always been friends. You quieted all my fears that night. I was initially so embarrassed about it but then I felt a lot better knowing someone had my back no matter how bad I messed up.”

“I always had your back.” You insisted. “Even when I was mean to you. If you were in trouble with my dad, I was always here talking him down and trying to get him to see your side. He sees you through the lense of his child that he doesn’t want hurt but I’ve always seen you as a hero who wants to help. I even got him to give you the suit back when you were 15. And it was my idea to put the warmers in because you told me you’re always cold.”

“Really? You were rooting for me this whole time?” He cracked a smile in surprise.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Always.”

“Then how come you act like…” Peter trailed off in fear of insulting you.

“Like what?” You asked, sounding like you already knew what was coming.

“Like you hate me.” He admitted. You felt your face burn in embarrassment and shook your head.

“I don’t hate you.” You said sheepishly.

“You don’t?” He asked in genuine surprise. You looked at him and he could see the guilt in your eyes even in the dim light of the kitchen.

“No. I don’t. I never did.”

“Then how come we don’t get along anymore?” He asked. He had only gone along with all the teasing since you began it, but he had always wondered why it started.

“One of the things we had talked about that night was how my one regret about being homeschooled was never getting to experience a prom. I told you had dreamed of it since I was a little girl and it broke my heart to know I’d never have one. So then you said…” You trailed off, thinking he’d remember what he told you. His face showed no sign of remembering it but he racked his brain anyway.

“I said what?” He asked, breaking your heart just a little more.

“You promised to take me. To yours.” You told him. You and Peter stood in silence for a moment before he burst out laughing. Your sadness immediately hardened into anger at the sound of him laughing at you.

“Wait, you’ve been pissy towards me for the last few years because I broke a promise I made at 15 years old and didn’t take you to a stupid school dance?” Peter asked through a laugh. You glared at him for his reaction and he immediately stopped when he noticed you weren’t laughing too.

“Oh. We’re not laughing?” He asked.

“Why is that funny to you?” You snapped. Peter saw the moment slipping away from him and started to panic.

“Well I was- I was a kid.” He said simply. “I had a huge crush on this girl Liz and we were finally becoming friends so I asked her and she said yes. That was years after I promised you that. I’m sorry but I didn’t remember.”

Peter thought you were going to yell at him and hurl a parade of insults his way, but you just nodded your head and looked down at the ground.

“You’re right. We were just kids. Forget I said anything.” You mumbled and started walking towards the door to leave. Peter knew he had messed up big time and possibly just killed any and all chances of the two of you becoming friends.

“Wait.” He said desperately just as the kitchen timer went off. You stopped walking and watched him haphazardly take the cake out of the oven and throw it in the stove top as he blew on it.

“You should stay. We have to frost it.” He said with a weak smile and an even weaker attempt for you for stay.

“You can’t frost it while it’s hot. It’ll slip right off.” You said without looking at him.

“Oh. I didn’t know that. Well then do you want to talk some more or-“

“I have to go.” You cut him off and swiftly left the kitchen.

You went back to your room to resume the pouting you had started earlier. You felt guilty about walking out on Peter but it had hurt you to know that a promise that had meant a lot to you didn’t even stay in his memory. You stared out the window and sulked as you thought yourself into a deep rut. It didn’t take long for Peter to start making noise in the kitchen, interrupting your thought spiral. You heard things falling out of cabinets followed by Peter swearing. He bumbled around for a while and slowly drove you crazy with all the noise he was making until you couldn’t take it anymore. Just when you were about to text him and tell him the knock it off, you heard the dulcet sounds of “The Dancing Queen” coming from downstairs. You groaned in frustration and got out of bed to go downstairs and see what was happening.

When you got to the living room, Peter was standing there in one of your dad’s suits that hugged him a little too tightly around his muscles. The room looked like it had been decorated by a child with poorly hung streamers, ripped up construction paper to act as confetti, and bunches of webs that Peter had tried to shape into stars and moons. He had dimmed the lights and put a single bowl of chips on the counter, which he proudly stood beside.

“What the hell is this?” You asked him.

“Will you go to prom with me?” He asked with a huge smile.

“No.” You said immediately. “Please kill yourself.”

“I will.” He promised. “After one dance.”

“I’m not dancing with you. I’m not doing any of this.” You told him and turned to leave. You heard a “pst” right before feeling a web hit your back. Before you knew it, Peter tugged on the web and sent you stumbling back into Peter’s arms. He caught you with ease and winked when you landed in his arms. You rolled your eyes at him but felt a smile tugged at your lips.

“Please? Just one dance? Then I’ll let you go and hate me for the rest of your life.” He pleaded as he stared into your eyes. He looked so desperate that you found yourself nodding before you knew what you were agreeing to. He smiled in excitement and twirled you around before slowly swaying to the beat. You begrudgingly sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck while his stayed in a respectable place on your hips. You could feel his eyes on you but you kept yours on the ceiling.

“You can look at me, you know.” He teased, making you begrudgingly look him in the eyes.

“Oh. I almost forgot.” He smiled and pulled something out of his pocket. You looked down and saw a few poorly drawn flowers webbed to a rubber band.

“Your corsage, my lady.” He said as he slipped it onto your wrist.

“This is so stupid.” You laughed but secretly loved the thought he put into everything.

“It’s about to get even more stupid. Wait here.” He asked and quickly ran into the kitchen. He returned with one of Morgan’s plastic tiaras with a big fake gem in the center.

“Every prom needs its queen.” He said as he placed the crown on your head. You made eye contact as he stepped forward to adjust it and you felt your breath catch in your throat from how close he was.

“You didn’t have to do this.” You said quietly.

“Yes I did. I owed you a prom experience. I’m sorry I didn’t take you the first time. And I’m sorry for laughing at you. You just caught me off guard. I have spent many nights thinking of all the things I could have done to make you hate me. I genuinely forgot about that promise. I had no idea this entire time that you hated me because of prom.” He said as the two of you started swaying to the music again. You felt a feeling rise up in your chest, a feeling you hadn’t felt for Peter in many years.

“It wasn’t just the prom.” You admitted before you could think about it.

“It wasn’t? What else did I do? Did I hotbox the elevator with you in it or something?” He asked. “I did that to Wanda once and now she’ll show up in my dreams sometimes and make me pee the bed.”

“That’s disgusting.” You said flatly. “But no. It wasn’t that.”

“Then what?” He wondered.

“It’s stupid. You’ll just laugh again.”

“No I won’t.” He assured you. “Probably. I’ll definitely try really hard not to.

“Come on. Please tell me.” He pleaded and gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “You have to tell me now or I’ll become so annoying so quickly. I’ll be worse than those people who try to describe SNL skits to you and keep explaining even when it’s clearly only funny if you’re watching it.”

“I can’t tell you. It’s dumb anyway. Forget I said anything.” You said and hoped he’d drop it.

“It can’t be that dumb if it stood between us all these years. What, did you have a crush on me or something?” He laughed through his question. You went quiet and Peters eyes went wide.

“Oh shit. Did you have a crush on me?” He asked in a soft voice. You looked down at the ground to avoid having to look him in the eyes now that you were caught.

“I don’t know.” You sighed. “You were my age and had these cool powers and muscles and unexpected sense of humor. I was homeschooled and had swiped to the end of Tinder. You were my only option.”

“Oh. I see. So you only liked me because I was the only choice?” He said through a laugh but it hurt him. You could sense in his voice that you had just hurt his feelings and for once, that wasn’t what you wanted.

“I mean, not the only choice.” You added. “Cap used to hang around a lot more and he’s not the worst looking. But he’s like 500 so I never really had a chance.”

“Why me, then?” He wondered. You finally looked in to his eyes and shrugged a little.

“Because you were kind.” You admitted. “You didn’t need to take on as much as what you did at such a young age but you refused to do the easy stuff. You used to drive my dad crazy with how for you begged for assignments. You were so determined to get out there and save people, it was almost obnoxious. You were never content getting back stolen bikes. You always wanted to protect people from the big things. Even when you were just a kid. I liked that about you. I still do.”

“Still?” He gulped. “Even now?”

Before you could respond, the slow music that was playing ended and “Munch” started to blast from Peter phone. He scrambled to change the song but the moment had already been ruined.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know who put that on my playlist.” He quickly lied.

“It was you.”

“It was me, yeah.” He admitted and hung his head in shame. You stopped dancing and slowly withdrew your arms from him, making his heart sink.

“This was really sweet. Thank you, Peter.” You said genuinely. “I should probably get to bed now. I just want this day to end.”

“But we haven’t frosted the cake yet. It’s still your birthday. You can’t go to bed without any cake.” He said in a desperate attempt to get you to stay.

“I don’t know. It’s late.”

“Come on. It’ll be fast. That’s one of my powers. Spider can frost cake really fast and so can I.” He said and rushed over to the cake. He held it up and gave you a lopsided smile, convincing you to stay.

“Fine. Let’s make it fast.” You agreed and walked over to him. He smiled at you joining him and got out the frosting. He handed you a spatula and you started to frost the cake.

“You don’t have to keep wearing that if you don’t want.” Peter chuckled and went to take your crown off. You quickly swatted his hand and adjusted your crown.

“Back off. It’s mine.” You said and stepped away from him. He chuckled again and you laughed too.

“I really do appreciate everything you did for me tonight. I hope I can make it up to you one day.” You told him.

“You can make it up to me right now if we clear off this counter top and-“

“No.” You cut him off.

“Worth a try.” He mumbled.

“Really, though. You cheered me up tonight and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“In a way, I’m glad your stupid friends cancelled on you. It gave us an opportunity to spend time together. And this was the least I could do for not taking you to my real prom. Which was total buns, by the way. I missed most of it because I was putting my dates dad in jail.”

“Well I’m glad that didn’t happen tonight.” You laughed softly.

“Me either. I wish I took you to the first one. We could have been friends this whole time if I had just remembered my promise.” He sighed.

“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. I’m done moping about it. I’m ready to eat this cake and be friends from now on.”

“I’m ready for that too.” He smiled at you. “Especially the part about us being friends. But also for this cake because it’s kinda giving me a boner from how good it smells.”

“It does smell really good. I can’t even blame your boner. But if that thing even looks at me you’re getting impromptu gender reassignment surgery with this spatula.”

“Ouch.” He chuckled and looked over at you. He didn’t stop looking at you until you felt his eyes on you.

“What?” You laughed shyly.

“I can’t believe you ever liked me. And that this whole time, I had no idea. I am so not cool enough for a girl like you to like.”

“Yeah, well. It wasn’t like I dropped any hints.”

“Maybe not. It just doesn’t feel real. I wouldn’t believe it even if you weren’t always mean to me. You reciprocating my feelings was not something I ever thought would happen.”

“Reciprocating? You liked me too?” You asked as your mouth went dry.

“Are you kidding? You’re my mentors insanely hot and totally off limits daughter. Of course I liked you. Not to mention you’re funny, smart, good with a screwdriver and the apparently my biggest supporter. Though you did it in secret. Make no mistake, birthday girl. I had the biggest crush on you for years. Even when you were being mean to me.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.” You said quietly. You had your back to him as you washed your hands but you could feel his eyes on you. You peaked over your shoulder and sure enough, Peter’s eyes were locked on you. You gulped and turned back around when you heard him walking over to you.

“You know, as mean as your insults were, they were always clever. And you always looked good saying them. How could I not fall for you?” He said as he came up behind you. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne, along with a scent that was just distinctly Peter, making your heart pound in your ears. You turned around and leaned against the counter as you looked into his eyes.

“Well how do you feel now?” You asked with unwavering eye contact.

“I feel like those feelings never left.” He admitted. You had never heard such confidence in his voice and it was just the thing to tip the scales back in his favor.

“Hm. Interesting.” You shrugged and turned back around. It was almost like you could hear the disappointment in the air once you had your back to him again. You decided not to torture him forever and give in to what you both wanted.

“Peter?” You asked and looked over your shoulder at him.

“Yeah?”

“Clear the countertop.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @itsemohours

@tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[invincibledc]

IMAGINE

Reader who shifts through realities, dimensions, universes, accidentally going into comic universes such as marvel and DC. Poor reader accidentally gets the affection of superheroes. Spiderman aka Peter Parker is he made a new friend, possibly a soulmate due to how reader and him are hitting it off well. Peter wants to show the avengers just how amazing and talented reader is. But sadly when things started to get a little crazy with Peter, reader dipped and fell into dc. Falling into dc is a death wish, apparently landing in Gotham as Batman literally saw reader fall from the sky but somehow lived and landed on their feet. Now it’s batman’s turn for the fun of it.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

Hey sorry if I'm bothering you but how was your first reaction to bumblebee in TFO like? (just a bit curious also I love the dynamic you give Soundwave and bumblebee together it's so cute!!)

i thought he was like... super funny the entire time, in a corny stupid way... he immediatly became my favorite because he was litterally so annoying and weird and lied so much for no reason i kept pointing to the screen and going "thats literally me"

its all thanks to my friend piers for telling me about optimus and bees dynamic... if it werent for that id probably have a really shallow understanding of transformers and then would have gotten boerd of it LOOL

im like... OBSESSED with family dynamics... im a totally sucker for them 😭 theres 100% a pattern with the kinda characters i like...

heres a small list of the past dynamics/relationships i was absolutely obssesed with... hank and connor (dbh) tony stark and peter parker (marvel) lynn angel and lily angel (all saints street) metal bat and his little sister (opm) ethan winters (re8) (like the BIGGEST family guy ever its kinda crazy)

i just really love family oriented characters... what this says about me.. idk... LOOL

u can all thank my friend piers for telling me more bumblebee facts and making me more and more invested...

where it all began...

and im glad people like the dynamic i gave to soundwave and bee hehehe... in a interview, keegan micheal key said that soundwave his his fav transformer and that he actually improved the weird voice bee does based off of him and i thought it would be really cute to make bee a soundwave superfan and even cuter for soundwave to actually enjoy it 😭

[skywalkerslvt]

puhleasee write more sub peter parker stuff 🙏🙏 its so good

pairing: college!peter parker x reader

CW: dry riding, cumming in pants, sub peter, 1.3k words

summary: dry riding peter while he tutors you

a/n: submissive loser nerds who have never felt the touch of a woman drive me crazy i swear it's the whole reason ive never been able to pay attention in math/science courses. anyways hope u enjoy!! (btw requests r open guys keep sending stuff i need the inspiration)

Peter had been trying desperately to stay focused on tutoring, but every second that passed made it harder. Each time you leaned over the table to look at his notes, your perfume wrapped around him, making him dizzy. His gaze flickered down to the dip of your shirt without thinking, lingering at the curve of your chest before he forced himself to snap his eyes back to the paper. But the soft glow of the desk lamp seemed to conspire against him, highlighting your skin in a way that made every detail stand out.

He cleared his throat for what felt like the tenth time, a flush creeping up from his neck to the tips of his ears. You pretended not to notice, but each nervous shift of his chair, each pause when you moved, told you that you had his full, undivided attention-and not on the calculus problems in front of him.

Peter's voice faltered as he tried to explain a formula, his fingers tapping erratically against the book's edge. "So if we take... um... this equation and..." He trailed off when you reached across him to grab a pen, your arm brushing against his in a way that sent a visible shiver down his spine.

You pulled back and raised an eyebrow.

"Pete? You okay? You seem... distracted," you said, feigning innocence as your fingers traced the rim of your water bottle. The way his eyes flickered down to the movement made your smile widen.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine!" he said, the pitch of his voice betraying him. He pushed up his glasses, trying to look anywhere but at you, but the heat in the room was palpable, and the tension strung tight between you two.

You leaned forward, closer than before, letting your hair fall in a way that brushed his arm. "Are you sure? You seem nervous," you teased, drawing out the words just enough to make his eyes dart up to yours, wide and startled. The flush on his cheeks deepened, and his fingers curled into a fist on his thigh.

"I'm... I'm not," he mumbled, eyes flicking away, but his body betrayed him. He shifted uncomfortably, and you didn't miss the way his breath quickened when you subtly ran your foot up his leg beneath the table.

"Hmm," you hummed, biting your lip as if in thought. Your gaze dropped, just for a moment, to where the fabric of his jeans was noticeably tighter. You hid a grin, leaning back in your chair as if you hadn't just clocked the way his jaw clenched. "You should keep explaining, Peter. I'm really trying to follow."

He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, and nodded hastily. "R-right. So, the derivative here..." His voice shook, and you reached across, placing your hand over his to stop the tapping. The contact made him jump, eyes going wide like a deer caught in headlights. You tilted your head, fingers sliding up his wrist just a little as if absently.

"You're shaking," you whispered, watching the way his eyes fluttered closed for a second. The tension was unbearable now, and you could feel his pulse hammering beneath your touch. Peter opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, only a shallow breath as you leaned in even closer, your chest pressing lightly against his arm.

Finally, the anticipation was too much for either of you. Without warning, you stood up, only to swing a leg over his lap and settle down, facing him. His gasp was immediate, eyes flying open as he looked at you, bewildered and overwhelmed.

"W-what are you...?" he whispered, but his hands hovered at your waist, unsure whether he should touch or stay still.

"Keep talking," you ordered softly, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear. You felt the tremble that ran through him, the way he squirmed beneath you, already hard and aching.

"I... uh... I c-can't," he stuttered, eyes squeezed shut as your hips rolled against him, sending a jolt through his body. The way his chest rose and fell, the hitch in his breath, and the small whimper he tried to suppress were everything you needed to hear.

"Try," you teased, nails tracing down the front of his shirt.

Peter's breathing came in ragged gasps as he tried to pull himself together. His fingers twitched at your waist, aching to hold on but hesitating as if he couldn't quite believe this was real. The way you were looking at him, so close, so purposeful-it was a lot for his overworked mind to handle. You watched him struggle, enjoying the flush that travelled from his cheeks to the hollow of his throat.

"Come on, Peter," you murmured, your voice dropping to a low purr. "You were doing so well before. What's next in the problem set?" Your tone was playful, but there was a challenge in it that made his pupils dilate.

"I-I..." He started, but a soft moan slipped out as you shifted your hips again, pressing down just enough to make him choke on his breath. His eyes opened, wide and pleading, and for a moment, he looked like he was ready to say something coherent. But you leaned forward, brushing your lips against his jaw, and whatever resolve he'd gathered shattered instantly.

"If you stop talking, I stop moving," you reminded him, running your fingers up his chest until you felt the rapid thudding of his heart beneath your palm.

He bit down on his lip, trying desperately to remember where his train of thought had been before your touch turned him into a trembling mess.

"T-the derivative. We need to... evaluate.." His words broke off into a whine when you pressed down again, rolling your hips slowly against him, making sure to drag out every second of friction.

"Good boy," you praised, and his reaction was immediate-his eyes fluttered closed, mouth falling open as a shudder wracked his frame. He had never felt anything like this before, every nerve in his body alight with a mixture of desire and helplessness. Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp.

"I don't think you're focusing, though," you said, almost mockingly.

"I-I'm trying," he whimpered, eyes glassy as he tried to meet yours. The way he looked up at you, so wrecked and needy, made your stomach tighten with satisfaction.

"Try harder," you said, slowing your movements to an agonizing halt. He bucked his hips involuntarily, a high-pitched sound escaping him as he chased the friction you'd just taken away.

"Please," he begged, and the word came out so raw and broken that it sent a thrill down your spine. You couldn't help but grin as you took in the way his chest rose and fell, how his fingers had finally dug into your waist, desperate to keep you there.

"Oh, now you're begging?" you teased, leaning down so that your lips were almost brushing his. His eyes stayed locked on yours, wide and glassy with need.

"I-I'll do anything," he confessed, voice cracking. "Just... please, don't stop."

The sight of him beneath you–cheeks flushed, glasses slightly askew, and eyes filled with desperate submission— was more than enough to spur you on.You leaned back, shifting your hips in a way that made him moan so loudly that his own hand flew up to cover his mouth in shock.

"Don't hold back now, Peter," you whispered, moving with more intent as his body tensed beneath you. You could feel how close he was, the way his muscles tightened and his breath turned erratic. The anticipation built until finally, the last remnants of his control slipped, and with a shuddering gasp, he fell apart under you, eyes wide as he reached his peak.

You watched the realization dawn in his expression, a mix of awe and disbelief as he came down from the high, breaths coming in short, ragged bursts.

His gaze met yours, still hazy and dazed, before you tilted his chin up and whispered against his lips, "Tutor me again tomorrow? "

[alwaysmoncheri]

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

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

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

<3

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

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

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

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

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

“But–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh whatev—hmph!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<3

masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist

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

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

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[psychoticfemmm]

movies and missed kisses

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

summary: A playful tease turns into an argument, forcing Peter to confront how much he truly cares about you. The chaos of Avengers Tower ensures nothing stays private for long.

It wasn’t supposed to turn into an argument.

One minute, you were teasing Peter about bailing on yet another movie night, and the next, you were snapping at him from your spot on the couch in the lounge of Avengers Tower.

“Are you kidding me right now, Peter?” You crossed your arms, glaring at him as he stood awkwardly in front of you. “You’ve bailed, like, six times this month. Six! What—do you just not care about seeing me anymore?”

Peter groaned, dragging a hand through his messy brown hair. “It’s not like that! I told you—stuff just comes up sometimes!”

You rolled your eyes. “Stuff, huh? Like what?”

Peter froze, clearly realizing his mistake. You already knew he was Spider-Man—being Tony Stark’s daughter meant there wasn’t much that got past you. But that didn’t mean you were going to make this easy on him.

“Let me guess,” you said sarcastically, tilting your head. “You tripped and fell into saving a bunch of people, right?”

Peter’s cheeks flushed, his eyes darting around like he was searching for an escape. “Well… I mean… Technically, yeah?”

You scoffed, standing up and brushing past him. “You’re impossible.”

Peter caught your wrist gently, spinning you back toward him. “(Y/N), come on,” he said softly. “You know it’s not like that. You know I care about you. A lot.”

Your glare softened slightly, but you weren’t letting him off the hook yet. “Then stop bailing on me. I don’t care if you’re Spider-Man. If you want to keep seeing me, you have to show up, Peter.”

Peter swallowed hard, his brown eyes locking onto yours. “I do want to keep seeing you. I’m crazy about you. And if I could explain it all without sounding like an idiot, I would.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You are an idiot.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, stepping closer, his voice dropping a little. “But I’m your idiot.”

You wanted to stay mad. You really did. But when Peter Parker gave you that soft, boyish smile, all your frustration melted just a little.

“Don’t think you can just charm your way out of this,” you muttered, though you made no move to pull away when he stepped even closer.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Peter murmured, his hands settling lightly on your waist as his forehead touched yours.

“Peter…” you whispered, your voice losing its edge.

“Hmm?”

“I’m still mad at you.”

“Yeah?” His breath brushed your lips as he smiled. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but Peter cut you off by kissing you. It was soft at first—gentle and hesitant, as if he was afraid you might shove him away. But when you kissed him back, threading your fingers into his hair, he deepened the kiss, pulling you flush against him.

His hands slid to your lower back as he pressed you against the nearby wall, his lips moving with yours like he’d been waiting for this moment forever.

You sighed into the kiss, your earlier anger completely forgotten as your heart raced in your chest. Peter’s lips trailed to your jaw, brushing over your skin as you tilted your head to give him better access.

“Still mad?” he mumbled between kisses, his voice low and teasing.

“Maybe,” you breathed, though the way your hands clung to his shoulders said otherwise.

Peter grinned, leaning back to look at you. “Liar.”

You were about to pull him in for another kiss when—

“Hey!”

Both of you froze. Peter practically jumped back from you like he’d been electrocuted, and you turned your head to see none other than your dad—Tony Stark—standing in the doorway with a look of pure exasperation on his face.

“Oh, come on!” Tony groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “In my tower? Against my wall? Have you two ever heard of personal space?”

“Mr. Stark—uh—I can explain!” Peter stammered, his face a shade of red you didn’t think was humanly possible.

“Explain what?” Tony deadpanned. “That you’ve got your sticky Spider-fingers all over my daughter?”

“DAD!” you snapped, your own face burning as you shoved Peter toward the other side of the room.

Tony raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Relax, kid. Just don’t let me catch you swapping spit in mylounge again. And definitely not when the rest of the team is—”

“Oh my God.”

You groaned as Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff appeared behind Tony, both looking far too amused by the situation.

Natasha smirked, leaning casually against the wall. “Don’t let us interrupt. Looks like you two were having a moment.”

Peter groaned softly, covering his face with his hands. “Please kill me now.”

Steve chuckled, clapping Tony on the shoulder. “Come on, Stark. Give the kids a break.”

“Fine, fine,” Tony muttered, but not before shooting Peter a warning look. “Spider-Boy, you keep your hands where I can see them from now on. Got it?”

“Y-Yes, sir!” Peter stammered, practically vibrating with embarrassment.

Tony turned and left the room, muttering something about “unbelievable teenagers” as Steve and Natasha followed, both still grinning.

As soon as they were gone, Peter turned to you, wide-eyed and mortified. “I’m never coming back here again.”

You laughed, stepping closer and brushing your fingers along his jaw. “Oh, come on. That wasn’t that bad.”

Peter gaped at you. “Not that bad?! Your dad just caught us—”

You cut him off with a kiss, soft and slow, until you felt him relax against you. When you pulled back, you smirked. “Still want to bail on our movie nights?”

Peter smiled sheepishly, resting his forehead against yours. “Never again. I swear.”

“Good,” you whispered, tugging him down for another kiss.

And this time, you made sure to lock the door.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

bring back Peter Parker fics we all say In unison.

I take requests𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

[ptergwen]

hiii

so this might me dirty but hear me out

It has gotten to me that mans come can meddle w the woman’s dna

so with this as an inspiration, and I know it’s kinda cliche but

stark!reader suddenly having spider senses or smh (not pregnancy)

oh and it’s for Tom Holland spider man

have an amazing dayy

a parker thing

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: 2,364

warnings: smut (p in v unprotected, lowkey dom!peter and reader), swearing

a/n: jump scare if you didn't see my post lmao i'm back y'all! i missed u guys and missed writing lots so i’ll be here from time to time again :) i had so much fun with this req thank you for the idea! much love to u all <3

you catch yourself dozing off and jerk your head up instinctively. one short, loud snore passes your lips as you do so, eyes opening wide. you blink your tired eyes a few times as you readjust to the harsh lighting.

ugh, you fell asleep in the lab, something you always chastise peter and your dad for doing. they're notorious for their long hours spent messing around with stark tech. you've lost count of how many times you've woken up to an empty spot in bed where your boyfriend should be, instead finding him fast asleep surrounded by cups of coffee and a delirious tony still on the grind.

tonight, you're the stark who's in the lab past their bedtime. you had the day to yourself and decided to use your free time to upgrade your suit. it had had a few hiccups during the team's last mission, so you wanted to work on it before the next one. what was supposed to be a few minor tweaks turned into a whole day of tweaking.

you scoff at yourself and wipe some drool that crusted onto your chin. oddly enough, you almost instantly refocus on the screen in front of you. it's been like this for most of the day. you're way more concentrated than usual for some reason, more aware. you figure it's because peter has been out on patrol and couldn't distract you.

"are you finished for the night, boss? you aren't usually here this late."

"i know, but i’m gonna stay a little longer. i’ll be done soon...i think."

friday dims the lights directly overhead so they aren't as harsh. you smile.

"thanks, fri."

you sit up in your seat, scooting in closer to the screen displaying your suit. you carefully look over the prototype and pick up a pen to write yourself some notes. when you go to put down the pen, it sticks to your palm. you shake your hand to try to get it off. it stays stuck.

"huh."

you use your other hand to pry the pen off of you.

"weird."

first you have heightened senses, now you're sticky. if you didn't have ordinary stark dna, you'd think you were part arachnid like peter.

you're not sure why, but you suddenly stand up and turn towards the main doors to the lab. they slide open a few seconds later. peter walks inside, spider suit on and mask off. he pads over to you with a soft smile.

"there you are. friday said i could find you down here."

peter pecks your lips and envelopes you in a hug. you sign contentedly, face nuzzled into his neck and arms winding around him.

"yeah, she's probably sick of me. i've been down here all day."

"you're really locked in, huh? how's the suit coming along?"

peter's fingers rub up and down your back ever so lightly. just the small touch practically sends shivers down your spine.

"good. fixed everything and double checked, then triple checked. started adding some new stuff, too."

"new features? like what?"

"you know the one i was telling you about..."

you trail off as peter's hands slide down to your ass. he pulls you in closer to himself, letting his hands rest there. you peek up at him, heart speeding up.

"go on, i’m listening."

peter gives your ass a gentle squeeze. it's an innocent gesture, really, but your senses are going crazy right now and you can't help but to get turned on. you always tease peter about how easily he's turned on. if this is what it feels like for him, now you understand.

"hm, i'm bored of talking about the suit. tell me about patrol."

"it was good! got a lot of action today. i mean, i guess that's not good 'cause that means there's more crime and stuff, but y'know. anyway..."

you stare at peter's lips, but don't listen to a word he's saying. it's the first time today you can't focus. he's pressed right up against you in his damned tight spider suit, and his hands are still on your ass, and you're so hypersensitive and hyper aware. all you can think about is how bad you need him.

"y/n? you okay?"

peter must have noticed you spacing out.

your gaze flicks between his eyes and lips before your own lips wordlessly capture his in a searing kiss. peter lets out a breathy chuckle, caught a bit off guard by your abruptness. he deepens the kiss for a moment, then pulls back with a look of amusement. you bite back a cheeky smile.

"horny."

peter's features form a smirk.

"i got you, baby."

he kisses you again. his tongue tangles with yours, a sigh passing your lips. peter lifts you up, grip becoming firmer on your ass. you wrap your legs around his waist. he kisses down your neck until he finds a spot he wants to mark. you tilt your head to the side so he has more access. peter's lips suck roughly on your skin, teeth nipping at it playfully. you let out a shaky breath.

peter presses one last kiss to what's sure to become a hickey to soothe it. you tilt his chin up towards you again, lips smashing into his, holding him in place by the back of his head. he carries you to the nearest table while your intertwined lips move desperately against each other's. you sneak a hand down to the bulge in his suit, earning a groan.

"one sec, lemme get this off."

peter sets you down on the table and quickly strips off his spider suit. you take your own clothes off and toss them aside, left only in your bra and panties. peter comes to stand between your legs. he slips your panties to the side, middle finger collecting your wetness as he kisses you again. his finger slides into you with ease and begins to pump. you moan into the kiss, tugging at his hair.

"already so wet, baby. don't even have to get you warmed up."

peter's finger curls inside you, cockiness evident in his tone and on his features. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck.

"stop teasing, parker."

"can't take it when the roles are reversed, stark?"

something takes over you in that moment, the same something that's been coursing through your veins all day. you grab both of peter's hands and hold them in place above his head. your grip is tight around his wrists, too tight for him to break free of it. a noise almost like a growl escapes you.

"shut up and fuck me, or i’ll fuck you."

peter meets your wild eyes, his pupils equally as dilated.

"do it."

you promptly pull peter up to the table with you. you push him back so he lies down, pinning his arms down at his sides. his chest rises and falls, breathless.

"woah, what's gotten into you today? not that i’m complaining, but, woah."

"i know, right? i thought you were supposed to have super strength."

peter grabs you by your hips and sits up, seating you in his lap. you wiggle your hips in his grasp, but he digs his fingers into your sides so you can't move. peter's voice drops low.

"what was that?"

you breathe out a low laugh.

"nothing."

you dip your head down to press your forehead to peter's. he smiles, satisfied with your answer. you wrap your hand around his hard cock and stroke him. peter's lips ghost over yours, his breathing heavy.

"wanna feel you, y/n/n."

peter slides his hands up to your waist so you can move again. you smile knowingly. you slip off your panties before you reposition yourself, your legs on either side of him. you line up peter's cock with your entrance.

"wanna feel you too, pete."

you lower yourself down onto peter. you both let out little sighs and moans as he fills you up.

he always feels so good inside you, but this time is even better, even more intense.

you arch your back to find the right angle, shifting backwards a bit. once you're both comfortable, you begin to roll your hips. peter exhales a breath he was holding, lifting his hips up to help you out. your movements are slow, fluid. peter supports you by the small of your back, eyes hooded and lips parted for air.

"fuck, i'm not gonna last long."

"me neither."

he kisses you, softly but with so much passion. you let your eyes flutter closed and kiss back. you place your feet flat on the table for more stability and straighten your back, starting to bounce on his cock.

"y/n..."

peter's voice comes out almost like a whine. you chuckle at that.

"i know."

you grab onto peter's shoulders for more support as you move, up and down, back and forth. peter leaves sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. the once quiet lab is now filled with both of your moans and the sounds of your wetness every time his cock thrusts into you. you're both so close, and you can hardly hold out any longer.

peter grabs your hips to stop your movements. he takes over, thrusting up into you at the same delicious pace, only he's the one in control. you let out a series of short, high pitched moans, head thrown back as peter's cock hits the right spot in you over and over again.

"that's it, y/n/n. sound so pretty, baby."

peter half speaks and half groans. you reply with your own noise of content, squeezing yourself around his cock as you reach your high. peter is close to his.

"god, fuck."

he's panting. his thrusts speed up a bit until his hips stop moving altogether. he pushes deeper into you with one final moan, his cum filling you up, making you feel warm inside. you both recently agreed he could finish in you; it's a new level of intimacy.

"fuck, baby. woah."

you bury your face in peter's neck in response. you try to catch your breath, falling forward into his arms.

"oh my god, pete. that was..."

"yeah."

peter hugs your waist. he slowly pulls out of you, making you wince at the new emptiness.

"sorry."

he peppers tender kisses to the side of your head. you remove your face from his neck.

"it's okay."

you ruffle peter's hair with a tired smile. he kisses your cheek, smiling back. you give him another peck on his lips. you yawn, today's and tonight's activities catching up with you once again.

"aw, you tired?"

"mhm. you must be, too, spidey."

"exhausted. let's get cleaned up, then we'll go to bed?"

"sounds perfect."

peter helps you down from the table. you quickly step into your panties in case any cum leaks out of you. he picks his suit up off the floor.

"okay, that was insanely good. i mean, it always is, but something was different. i wonder what it was."

peter shimmies into his suit so his lower half is covered. you're putting on the rest of your clothes.

"i don't know, i’ve just been super on my shit today. really focused and stuff."

"explains why you were so locked in on your suit."

"that might just be a stark thing. actually, it's a parker thing too."

you poke peter's chest playfully. you collect some of your things from your work area, some miscellaneous supplies sticking to your palms as you do.

"why does this keep happening?"

peter watches curiously as you huff and shake paper clips off your palms.

"funny, that reminds me of when i first got my powers. took me a while to figure out how to control it, being sticky."

"uh huh. did you spill web fluid last time you were down here or something?"

"i don't think so, but it would have dissolved by now if i did. i haven't been in the lab for a couple days."

"oh. maybe it was someone else."

peter quirks a brow.

"i don't see any web fluid over there, y/n/n."

you turn to face peter.

"so why am i sticky?"

between this, your strength, and your heightened senses, peter puts it together. you have powers.

his spider powers.

"that might also be a parker thing. more specifically, a spider-man thing."

"you don't mean... no."

if peter is saying what you think he's saying, that confirms what you had thought earlier.

"uh, yeah."

peter crosses over to you. your eyebrows knit together.

"we must share some dna."

"but how? that wouldn't be possible unless we were, like, related... ew! please don't tell me we're fucking related!"

"baby, baby." peter laughs softly, taking one of your hands in his. "stop freaking out."

"you should be freaking out too! you were just inside me, peter, fucking me raw! you came in me!"

"exactly."

peter's voice is way too calm for your liking.

"exactly? what do you mean 'exactly'?"

"think about it. sperm is made up of dna."

"so what?"

"well, i wasn't born with this dna. it got mutated by the spider bite. so no, we're definitely not related."

you tentatively soften your gaze, allowing peter to lace his fingers through yours.

"since i got my powers from the mutation, i guess you got them too when i started finishing in you."

you gasp, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

"you mean you mutated my dna? you have radioactive cum?"

"something like that. you're not mad?"

you toy with peter's fingers, looping an arm around his neck.

"nah, it's kind of cool now that i know what it is. you're gonna have to teach me how to use the powers, though."

"of course." peter returns your smile. "now that you've got new powers, you gotta rebrand. maybe you could call yourself spider-woman."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you? come up with something more original."

peter's arms wrap around your middle, smile growing into a toothy grin.

"you could also use mrs. parker. it's gonna be your name someday, anyways."

you put your other arm around peter's neck with a laugh.

"mrs. parker, i like that."

(too lazy to use tags lmao)

[scotchiegirl]

What's in a name:

The team leveraging Hardison's first name to get him to take them seriously.

It started with the Grave Danger Job. With Parker's panicked "I need you. Do you hear me, Alec? I need you!" It isn't something that's conscious or anything, but all of them lean into it occasionally.

"Alec, just drop it," Nate stares at Hardison, watching the young man realize maybe he'd been pushing Nate too hard on a topic that was a sore subject. Alec nods grimly and backs down.

"Hardison, how long have you been up?" Sophie asks gently, watching the genius wipe the grit from his eyes, his latest forging project laid out around him. When he mumbles something about not remembering, needing to finish, Sophie catches his chin in a manicured hand and holds his attention. "Alec, go to bed." He goes.

"Come on, man, get off the screen for a little while, let's go get some sun," Eliot pokes him after a long job on top of a new World of Warcraft update. Hardison can't even remember what he said back, something glib he's sure, but he remembers the hesitation in Eliot's voice. "Alec, please. You're gonna fuck up your eyesight before you're thirty, staring at blue light a foot away from your face. Please?" Hardison goes with him. They go to an outdoor gun range. Hardison rags Eliot about them both not liking guns, but listens as his best friend talks him through focusing on targets of different distances. He'll never have Eliot's skill, but it's a quick way to help his eyesight and he turns out to be half decent with practice.

"Alec, I'm serious!" Parker pleads with him, a picture of some conspiracy theory held up in her hands. "I need to know if this is real or not, please. Because it doesn't seem real and then it does seem real and Eliot won't give me a straight answer and Nate won't give me any answer at all, and I need to know if-" if I'm going crazy, she doesn't say, but he hears it now. He lays a hand over hers and explains that it's not real, explains the joke patiently until she understands and can laugh at it and "yes, and" Eliot when that particular theory comes up again.

"Hey y'all, it's Alec," he says, a gun to his head and a phone in his hand, one chance to get it right, to make them understand that this is serious. He can practically hear them all sitting up in the tones of their voices, in the grimness of the rapid fire questions, and he breathes a sigh of relief. They'll come get him. They know it's serious.

[thealtoduck]

THINK LATER

Peter Parker x Male Black Cat!Reader

Warnings: Smut, bottom!Reader, top!Peter, rooftop sex, masks stay ON, enemies with benefits (kinda), unprotected sex, spit as lube, riding, doggy style, fingering…

Male Black Cat!Reader: Masterlist

Summary: Peter feels conflicted about your friends with benefits relationship and vents his frustration to the Black Cat…

——

Peter’s pov

——

Peter knew that you two weren’t exclusive.

But hearing Y/n had hooked up with his neighbour still stung his heart. He considered if he had started to catch feelings for him… but decided he didn’t want to get into all that and feel even worse.

He needed a distraction.

He layed sprawled out on his bed thinking when it hit him. Duh, he was Spider-Man, what better distraction was there?… He got of his bed, changed into the red and blue suit, opened the window and climbed out.

Luck seemed to be on everybody’s side but his that night… for once Queens was just a boring place where nothing happened, no one needing his help in the slightest. So as he swung around Y/n still lingered in his mind.

Eventually he gave up, swinging to the top of a building he sat down on the edge looking out over the city. Maybe he had caught feelings for Y/n, he thought to himself as he watched the city streets below.

Suddenly his Spider-sense tingled making him swiftly turn. Only to be met with a familiar face… or rather mask.

”Hey Spider” the Black Cat said in his usual purring voice.

——

Your pov

——

Spider-Man just seemed to examine you, noticing you didn’t have any stolen goods on you. So he just remained seated on the building edge and said tiredly ”Not now, Cat, I’m not in the mood”.

This was the first time he ever seemed indifferent to you. You HATED the feeling.

”What’s got you all moody?” you questioned. Spider-Man turned to you confused. ”Why would I talk about my feelings with you?” he questioned suspiciously. ”Crazy concept, right?” you teased and balanced playfully on the edge of the building.

Spider-Man let out a deep breath and thought, what’s the worst that could happen.

”So there’s this guy, that I’m kinda… messing around with-” Spider-Man started.

”What?” you cut in. He just looked at you for a couple seconds before you said ”Sorry, go on”.

”…And he slept with this other guy and it made me realise that I kind of want us to be exclusive but I don’t know if he wants that too” He finshed explaining. You stood and looked at the spandex clad hero and what he had told you bothered you…

Some little boytoy was bothering him to the point of keeping YOU from being chased by your favourite Spider, keeping him from doing his job of chasing YOU a WANTED thief. You didn’t know why but the idea that someone else had their claws dug in to him like this bothered you.

The thought that he had a life outside of the mask that didn’t involve you at all…

Jealousy flared up inside you like a flash fire.

”Oh, come ON” you said loudly. ”You are Spider-Man, you’re really gonna let him walk all over your feelings like that? You know what you need? You need to show him that you that you’re not just gonna wait for him” you told him.

Spider-Man just looked at you and then questioned ”How do I do that?”.

”Jesus, Spider take of the damn purity ring! Do I need to spell it out for you?” you said and he understood what you were getting at.

You got off the edge of the building and made your way behind where he sat. You pulled the zipper to your suit all the way down. You pulled of the form fitting black suit of your body down to your hips showing off your upper body.

”I still don’t kno-…” he said turning but stopping mid-sentence as he saw your bare upper body. ”Liking the view?” you teased. Spider-Man got up and walked over to you ”Cat, come on”

You poked a finger on his upper chest ”You need to show him that you’re good without him”

”He can’t see us”

”Then show yourself that you don’t need him”

——

Peter’s pov

——

The sight was mouth watering to Peter, usually criminals weren’t his type but Black Cat just had a hold of him. Maybe there was a reason he hadn’t managed to catch him yet, maybe he wouldn’t let himself. He had started liking the chase.

Peter tried to think of Y/n but was like hypnotized seeing Black Cat’s upper body. Peter slowly reached for him, touching the soft skin of his stomach with his gloved hands. He let his hans wander Black Cat’s body.

”Liking it?” Cat asked.

”Yeah” Peter mumbled completely transfixed.

Black Cat leaned in and placed a kiss on Peter’s mask covered lips. ”Wanna lift this for me?” he asked and Peter let go of Cat’s body and lifted his mask slightly revealing his lips. Soon Black Cat’s lips crashed against his as their arms wrapped around each other in a passionate embrace.

——

Your pov

——

You ended up laying on your back against the cold rooftop, Spider-Man who was on top of you pressed a button on his suit making it turn loose around his body. He pushed it of his body revealing his own muscular chest to you.

”Not bad Spider” you complimented.

The two of you continued to make out and Spider-Man pulled your suit further down revealing your tight white underwear. He threw your Black Cat suit aside and looked at your stripped down self. It almost felt familiar to him.

You slowly pulled your underwear down while looking Spider-Man in the eyes. ”So, how do you want to do this?” you purred curiously. ”Why don’t you start preparing yourself and give me a show?” he recommended.

You did as told, spreading your legs and started playing with your hole, fingering yourself as Spider-Man watched. He had let his own suit fall down to his ankles sat down on his kness infront of you. He palmed his erection through his boxers as he watched you stretch yourself open.

Spider-Man then pulled down his boxers slightly, letting his erect cock feel the night air. He jerked himself off as he saw you add another finger inside yourself. He then crawled closer to you, soon you were making out again with him on top of you, your naked bodies grinding together.

You then suprised him by rolling the two of you over so that you were on top of him, you pinned his hands over his head and whispered ”You ready?”. ”Yeah” Spider-Man answerd eagerly. You spit in your hand and rubbed it on his length.

You then lined up his cock with your enterance and sunk down on it. You supported yourself with your hands on Spider-Man’s pecs as you felt him fill you up with his cock. You let out a soft moan and said ”You’re cock is quite impressive, Spider”.

Once all of him was inside you, you rested for a moment, letting him fully stretch you out. Spider-Man let out soft gasps, from feeling his cock clenched in your tight heat.

Soon you started moving slowly up and down on his cock, Spider-Man let out a satisfied groan which made you smirk knowing you could give him that pleasure. You took Spider-Man’s hands and moved them to the globes of your ass letting him touch them.

He grabbed your ass tightly helping you roll your hips on his thick length. ”Fuck Cat- so fucking good” Spider-Man said through groans, his mouth hanging open.

You sped up the pace as you bounced up and down on his cock, feeling it deep inside you. You both let out heavy moans, the people down on the street might even hear what’s going on up on that rooftop.

”Can I- Can I-” Spider-Man tried but was unable to get out, so you slowed down the pace. ”Can you, what? Handsome” you said putting a hand under his chin. ”Can I fuck you from behind?” He asked in a polite yet needy tone.

”It’d be my pleasure” you said repositioning yourself so you were on all fours. Spider-Man positioned himself behind you. He re-insterted himself into your ass and put his hands on your hips, he then started thrusting himself into you, the sound of skin slapping together filling the rooftop.

”Fuck Spider- Y-you don’t go easy” you said feeling his cock plowing you.

——

Peter pov

——

Peter enjoyed the view, Black Cat had the most perfect ass and the thought of stuffing it full of cum made it even better. Peter’s cock was kneaded perfectly inside your heat.

He sped up his thrusts, wanting to fuck the orgasms out of the both of you. The whines Black Cat made beneath him implied to Peter he was getting close.

Through heavy panting Black Cat managed to get out a ”I’m gonna- c-cum”, Peter made sure to fuck deep into him as he let out a big groan. Peter assumed Black Cat had just shot his load on the rooftop floor.

Peter then felt his own orgasm approaching and asked ”Can I cum inside you?”. Black Cat said softly ”As much as you want”. Peter then animalistically thrusted into him, losing a proper rhythm.

And with a powerful last thrust with his cock stuffed deep inside Black Cat, Peter felt his seed spurt inside the the man beneath him. Peter panted heavily feeling completely drained.

Peter pulled out seeing his cum leak out of the other man’s ass and down his legs. The two then layed down on their backs next to each other, both exhausted and looking up at the stars.

”Feeling better?” Black Cat asked.

”Yeah” Peter said, his stress about Y/n having vanished for now.

After a while Peter stood up and offered Black Cat a hand but he remained laying on his back.

”You know, I’ll think I’ll rest here for a bit longer… Jesus, Spider, I didn’t know you were THAT big” Black Cat stated, touching his streched out cum stained ass. Peter let out a small laugh, he went and got himself dressed up in his costume and also brought Black Cat his suit and underwear.

”You know I should really use this opportunity to arrest you, I’ve never seen you so tired” Peter joked.

”Wow and after all I’ve done for you tonight Spider, that’s rude” he said back. Peter then bid Black Cat farewell and jumped from the building, swinging himself home.

——

As Peter layed down in bed again, his mind was fully focused on Black Cat, his body, his ass, his everything. Peter felt himself growing hard again just thinking about him, he slipped a hand in his boxers and down to his cock and started rubbing it, and he spent the rest of the night fantasizing about the Black Cat.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae! I hope your day has been as lovely as you are—which is to say, the loveliest! Could you please write a drabble with tasm!Peter and a reader who is generally not shy but flusters easily when Peter is affectionate and soft? The curse of not being used to it! No worries if not! 💞

Hope your day was as lovely as you are, sweetheart--which is to say, even lovelier <33

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 412 words

“Baby,” Peter laughs, “I know how to dress for the cold.” 

“Right, but this isn’t the subway.” You’re wrapping a scarf around his neck, mouth pulled into a frown. “It’s a long walk to your work, and it’s freezing out. They say it could even snow tonight. This early in the year! Isn’t that crazy?” 

“You’re crazy,” he says warmly. “And cute.” Your eyes dip from his face, lips pressing together to keep a smile at bay. Peter watches it happen amusedly. “If I’m late because you’re putting a dozen layers on me, I’ll just have to web to work.” 

You snap out of your bashfulness. “Peter, that’s even worse. That suit is like wearing nothing!” 

“That’s my point, sweetheart.” Peter takes your face in his hands to press a kiss to your lips, stopping you from reaching for a pair of gloves. You’re outfitted in a coat, scarf, and a hat, appropriate garb for what really is a frigid day. But no matter how many times Peter has told you he runs hot because of his mutation, he doesn’t think you really believe him. 

“I’m gonna go,” he says, “but I’ll come by your work during lunch so you can see none of my fingers have frozen off. I’ll bring you a hot chocolate, okay?” 

You wet your lips, expression softened by the kiss. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“And what if I want to?” He lets his voice drop into a lower register, syrupy sweet. Kisses you again between your brows. “Maybe I wanna thank you for taking such good care of me, did you think of that?” 

He can practically feel the warmth emanating from your skin now. Your face pinches as if in agony. “Stop,” you chide him, but there’s little bite when you can hardly speak above a murmur. “You’re doing this to me on purpose.” 

Peter smiles. “What is it that I’m doing to you, pretty girl?” 

“Peter.” 

“Now I bet you want me gone, huh?” 

He thinks you’re trying to glare at him, but you’re too shy at the moment to pull it off. “Just stay warm.”

“You too.” Peter pulls your hat down over your ears, dropping a kiss on your nose. It’s burning hot under his lips. He suppresses a laugh. 

“You’re so mean.” 

“One of us has to be; you’re too sweet.” He does laugh when you cover your face with your hands, stealing out the door. “See you at lunch!”

[gloomskulls]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚LIMERENCE PT 2 [tasm!peter parker x reader]

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

part 1

⇢ ˗ˏˋ SUMMARY ୨୧ after finding the courage and the balls to ask you out, Peter couldn't help but test the waters.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNING ୨୧ reader is drunk and drunk people cannot give consent), terribly written smut (i'm a virgin i'm sorry, I have no idea what goes on actually in the bed), oral (fem receiving), drinking, drunk reader, overstimulation, everyone is 18+ here lemme know if I missed any. MINORS DO NOT READ

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

A/n: I'm sorry this took a whole ass while, it's probs 90% story and 10% smut. Like it's probs shit, the smut's the reason why I couldn't finish this sooner because I had no idea where it was going. Also tried to write 2012 slang, idk if it even sounds right. don't steal any of the shit I've written or else I'm going to turn you into Victoria Heyes from terrifier ❤️🫶/srs

Peter shuffled in his sleep. Tossing and turning. Sleep never found him, how could it? He did something so unforgivable. Having an obsession with someone who barely acknowledges your existence is one thing, but sneaking into her house, completely crossing every single line, and then jerking off to the scent of your panties while imagining you on top of him, riding him as you creamed his cock with your cum.

The air felt heavy and there was an almost stifling silence in his small bedroom, while his mind worked in the manner of a broken machine, looping thoughts.

Every single thing about you — your laugh, the spark in your eyes when you spoke of something you loved, the way you uttered his name — his mind kept replaying like a broken record. Each one felt as fresh as if it had just taken place a moment ago, and each one pulled at something deep within his chest.

He had spent years arguing with himself about what he was doing. He told himself that viewing you from a distance was merely innocent fascination, a little crush. But that had been a lie. What he had done the night before, sneaking into your room was not a mistake; it was a deliberate decision.

Peter was filled with doubts, a regular person would call him lovesick, a creep even. Is she really worth it? Peter admits something he'd been avoiding for a while.

He wanted you.

Not as a classmate. Not as a partner for a stupid project. He wanted you in a way that was raw and desperate and consuming. Oh, he wanted you to look at him the way you look at the rest of the world with trust, with affection, with the same ease that made you laugh at his dumb jokes.

The realization hit him hard. The weight of it sank into his chest like a boulder, but there was a rush of something else too-something darker, more intoxicating.

Peter sat up abruptly, there's only one way or another, heart hammering as he snatched up his phone. Tapping out a quick message, he did so with trembling hands.

"Hey, u free 2nite? Was thinkin maybe we could finish the proj & grab dinner after. My treat. :)"

He stared at the screen, his thumb hovered over the send button. The fear crept back in, whispering in the back of his mind. What if she thought he was crazy? What if she rejected me outright? What if everything he'd built up in his head came crashing down?

Many thoughts crowded his mind, neither of them was good

As he stared at the text, his finger quivered. His stomach tightening in knots. The reply was already forming in his mind—would you say yes? Or perhaps he was weird for asking, for suggesting anything other than school?

But what if he didn't ask? What if he kept on pretending that this crush wasn't eating him up from the inside?

I've got to do this; he tried to steady his breath. This would never come again.

Deep breath and then Peter clicked "send."

Time seemed to stretch into eternity. His mind was racing, spinning out into the worst-case scenarios. You could just say no or even laugh it off and tell him it wasn't a good idea. It's a biology project, after all. That's what it was supposed to be—right?

That crumbled page of biology scraps lay on his desk as evidence of the project you both were working on. It was supposed to be a simple collaboration, probably will last for a few weeks if he was lucky, and then he'd just go back to being invisible to you.

But he didn't want to go back to being invisible.

He sat there at the edge of the bed, hunched over in an awkward position, his elbows rested on the stretched knees, and he stared his phone, convinced that at any moment it would leave his grip. He had typed the message, the own words glowing brighter as he waited.

He had redone it like at least a dozen times, but all versions felt way too casual to too formal. His current message was just right; friendly, innocent enough but still an invite.

What if you think it is strange? What if you don't even reply at all?

He shook his head to stabilize his breathing. It's alright, he told himself. His not asking for something crazy. It's only a dinner.

But it wasn't just a dinner. It was the convergence of years of quiet yearning, stolen glances, and missed opportunities. This was the first real step toward something more, if only he could find the courage to take it.

He shunned his phone flat on the bed thinking that might ease the tension in his chest, but it didn't. His heart raced as seconds ticked by on the clock, each second feeling like an eternally long wait.

What if you didn't reply?

What if you did?

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as his phone buzzed.

He grabbed it with trembling hands.

"Sure! I'm totally in. Where r we meeting? 7?"

He read the message over and over again: You're saying yes. Relief was an actual weight that was just lifted as disbelief flooded him as he blinked at the screen, rereading the message to make sure it hadn't been imagined.

For a moment, he allowed himself to smile, but it quickly disappeared. Now that he got the answer, a different kind of panic struck.

What happens next?

"Yea 7’s cool, I’ll pick u up @ ur place"

He looked up at the clock-6:30. In thirty minutes, he needed to get ready. Thirty minutes within which he needed to figure out how not to screw this one up completely.

Peter fell out of his chair and quickly rifled through his closet for something fresh and unique that didn't look like it had just been thrown on five minutes ago. His room was strung out in a mess of hoodies and T-shirts that didn't do any good as he tried on piece after piece-each feeling wrong.

"Relax," he murmured at himself while gazing at his reflection in the mirror. Hi hair looked like he just crawled out from under the bed, his face was red, and no matter how many adjustments he attempted on the clothes, he still looked like the awkward kid he'd always been.

Peter raced around his pod-sized room in search of a shirt that didn't scream "high school loser." The bed was a battlefield littered with crumpled hoodies, a checkered flannel, even his Midtown Science Academy T-shirt.

"Peter?" Aunt May's curious sounding voice called out from the hallway.

"Yeah?" he shouted back while looking through his closet and listening.

"Why does it sound like a tornado hit your room? Are you okay in there?"

Peter groaned and threw another hoodie onto the pile he was amassing on the bed. "I'm fine!"

The creaky door slammed open a moment later, and Aunt May peeked her head in. Her sharp eyes traveled the disaster area that was his room, from the piles of clothes, and even down to the one sneaker he was wearing.

"Uh-huh. Fine." She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "What's all this about? A wardrobe crisis?"

He sighed at her and rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing serious, okay? I just… I'm going out."

May raised an eyebrow as her lips twitched as if trying hard not to smile. "Going out? As in… on a date?"

"What? No!" Peter's voice shot up as he spun around, waving his hands. "It's not a date! It's just dinner. For a project. With a friend."

By now, she wasn't even trying to hide her grin. "A 'friend,' huh? Is this the same 'friend' you've been talking about nonstop since this biology project started?"

"I don't talk about her nonstop!" protested Peter, turning into a shade of tomato. "Oh, you definitely do," Uncle Ben countered from outside the hallway and into the room, sporting the knowing smirk of someone who has heard too much. "Half the time, it's, 'Oh, she's so smart,' and the other half is, 'She's so good at this lab thing.'" He said with a dreamy tone

"Okay, okay, so I get it!" he groaned while burying his face in his hands. "Can we not do this now?"

Ben laughed and slapped Peter on the shoulder. “Relax, kid. We are just teasing, and you've got this.”

May walked into the room and picked up one of the forgotten shirts from the bed. Holding it up, she said, "What is wrong with this? Nice but casual, not slobby."

Peter squinted at it. "It's too—I don't know; plain?"

"Plain is better than looking as if you are trying too hard," she said, tossing it to him.

Uncle Ben nodded sagely. "It's right." "You don't want to go full tuxedo on a first—uh, not a date," he added quickly, holding up his hands when Peter glared at him.

Peter huffed but pulled the shirt over his head anyway. "You two are the worst," he muttered, though his tone lacked any real bite.

May smiled and reached out, smoothing the collar of his shirt. "We are not the worst. We are just proud of you. It's good to see you putting yourself out there."

"I'm not—," Peter began, but Ben cut him off.

"You are," Ben said firmly. "That's a good thing. Just be yourself, Pete. If she's as great as you say she is, she'll see what we see, a smart, kind, slightly awkward but very lovable kid."

Peter's face burned. "Yea, you really know how to give a pep talk."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Ben fired back with a grin.

May handed Peter his second sneaker. "Here. Don't forget this, unless you're planning to really impress her with your one-shoe look."

Peter rolled his eyes but could not quite hide the grin that crept onto his lips. "Thanks, Aunt May."

So Ben called after him as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "And remember, kid—Italian places usually give you breadsticks first. Don't fill up before the main course!"

Peter groaned loudly. "I'm going now! Bye!"

He was there, at your door, heart pounding heavily, as if wanting to burst out from the body. He lingered for a while, staring at the doorbell.

What if this is a mistake?

But before you could think otherwise, the button pressed his finger.

And then echoed the sound of the bell from inside, and Peter felt that the earth would open up and swallow him whole in an instance. He heard footsteps, and then the door opened.

There you were.

"Hey, Peter!" you said, smiling that effortless way that made his breath catch in his throat, stepping aside and gesturing for him to come in. "You're right on time, I just need a minute to grab my bag."

Peter managed a small smile and stepped in, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. "Yeah, of course. Take all the time you need."

You disappeared into another room, leaving Peter hanging awkwardly at your door, his eyes darting about. It was a very warm and inviting house, in harmony with the kind of person you were. The faint hum of a television in another room was muffled, someone talking, and he could hear that easily.

Your presence returned with your bag slung around your shoulder and you ignited the nerves again in Peter.

“So,” you said, smiling at him, “where to?”

Peter hesitated just a beat too long, his mind scrambling to come up with an answer. "Uh, I was thinking Italian? That okay with you?"

"Italian sounds great," you said easily as your smile widened.

Peter's heart raced as you stepped out the door, walking beside him toward the small restaurant a few blocks away. The night air was crisp, and for the first few minutes, he was too caught up in his own head to say much. But then you started talking, asking him about his day, about the project, and the sound of your voice eased some of his tension.

You made him feel like he belonged, even without having a word to say.

When the restaurant came in sight, Peter turned to you. Nerves still there but mixed with something else: a quiet and hopeful excitement.

Maybe just maybe, tonight will be the beginning of something real.

The walk to the restaurant was such a nerve-racking experience. Each step Peter Parker took beside you felt like a step closer to something he wasn't ready (or was actually hoping for). His hands buried deep in his jacket pockets, fingers curling and uncurling, while trying to keep steady pacing alongside you.

But you appeared to be at full ease. You talked about the cool evening, how the trees' leaves were beginning to rustle with the cold wind blowing, and even the faint smell of roasting chestnuts from a street vendor a few blocks away. Peter heard everything, nodded, and punctuated things now and then with the occasional "Yeah" or "Totally," but as for his thoughts, they were running wild within him.

This is well. This is the standard. This is alright, He didn't over hypothesize for the hundredth time.

As much as there was relief in now having something solid to focus on, Peter was panicked that it all became real at that moment.

He opened the door for you, his hand trembling slightly as he held it.

"Thanks," you said, giving him a swift smile before stepping inside.

"Uh, yeah. Of course," Peter mumbled as he hung his head and followed you in.

The hostess took you to a corner besides the glass window, a cozy little spot with a flickering candle in the middle of the table. Peter's hands trembled as he took the chair and gestured you to sit on it.

The menu in front of him could be in another language as he stared dumbly at it, words bringing into a blur while the thoughts buzzing in his head were getting harder to put to rest.

Don't be weird. Just be normal. What does "normal" even mean? Stop overthinking! You've got this!

"This place is nice," you commented as you scanned the menu. "How did you discover it?"

"Oh, um, my aunt used to like it here," Peter said, grateful he could answer such a question. "She says the lasagna is the best."

You grinned. "Aunt May has good taste. I will try that."

He nodded, yes, but could not stop the rush of nervous thoughts flooding his mind. He glanced at the menu as if studying it although he already knew what he would order. But his mind was instead filled with every possible thing he could screw up tonight.

Don't talk too much; don't laugh strangely; don't look like an idiot.

Here came the waiter, and you ordered effortlessly, laced with a polite smile as you handed him the menu. Peter stammered out his order and felt his palms sweat as he gave it. When the waiter walked away, Peter could feel your eyes on him, and it took everything he had to meet your gaze.

"So," you said, leaning in with elbows planted on the table, chin cradled in palm, "what's your thing, Peter?"

"My thing?" he said, taken aback. "Like, my thing?"

"Yeah, like… what do you do for fun? What are you really into doing when absolutely no one else is watching and judging?"

Peter blinked, trying to think of something that wouldn't sound lame. "Uh, well, I like photography," he said. "And science, I guess. Experiments, stuff like that."

You perked up. "Photography? That is cool. What kind of pictures do you take?"

"Mostly city stuff," he said, his voice gaining a bit of confidence. "You know, like weird angles, shadows, reflections. It's probably not that interesting to most people."

"I think it sounds interesting," you said. "I would love to see your pictures sometime."

Peter's heart was pounding so hard. "Really? Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if you want."

That made the conversation flow more easily. You told him about your love-hate relationship with math, how sometimes you spent too long procrastinating by watching cooking shows instead of doing your homework, and how one time you tried to make crème brûlée and almost burned your stove.

“I had to open every window in the house,” you said, laughing. “My mom came home and thought I’d burned dinner. I didn’t tell her it was supposed to be dessert.”

Peter grinned, feeling just a little bit more at ease. “Maybe stick to cookies next time, huh?”

“Noted,” you said with a mock-serious nod.

Then it was time to eat. You both started digging into it while still keeping up your conversation. Peter quickly found himself becoming much more relaxed, finding it absolutely easy to talk to you when he didn't over-analyze every word. You burst into laughter each time his jokes finished, and whenever his eye fell into yours, everything around faded.

There was little doubt that he was doing this because he was desperate enough to strike a topic that wouldn't make him sound like an idiot; this was the reason why he asked, "You, uh, good with the whole project?"

You leaned back, fiddled with the napkin on the table, and said, "Yeah, it's actually been fun. Well, I mean, we work well together, and you're much smarter than I had thought."

Peter blinked. "Wait, you thought I wasn't smart?"

"No, I just-" You smirk, it's clear you're enjoying his reaction. "You always seem kinda… busy with stuff, you know? You're not exactly the loudest guy in the room."

"Well, I, uh…" Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm, uh, more of a behind-the-scenes guy. You know, less talk, more… action?"

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and Peter felt himself get a little more relaxed. Maybe you weren't judging him.

'This place have wine?' you ask all of a sudden, not looking up from the menu.

Peter blinked. "Uh… I think so?"

You smirked and put your feet up on the table after throwing the menu on it. "Perfect. I could use a glass."

Peter was at a loss on how he should respond. It just didn't seem like the kind of person who would order wine to go with dinner-at least, not in his limited and admittedly romanticized view of you. But when the waiter came by, you ordered an entire bottle without hesitating, barely glancing at Peter for confirmation.

"Um, yeah, sounds good," Peter said weakly, even though the thought of drinking anything stronger than soda made him nervous.

The waiter nodded and disappeared, leaving the two of you alone in an awkward silence.

But the waiter was back again, this time with a bottle and two glasses, which he laid down with a polite smile. And before you knew it, the deep red liquid was already swirling around in your glass because you had poured it in haste from the bottle.

Want some? You asked, already halfway through your first sip.

“Uh, maybe later,” Peter said.

You shrugged and took another long drink before putting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. “Suit yourself.”

The most casual kind of conversation developed between you: you asked Peter about what he was interested in, and he managed to stumble along throwing together great lengthy descriptions about why he loved photography and science, and the words came out too fast for him to think them. It almost seemed like you were listening to him, however, because he went on to nod before even asking follow-up questions, which made him for the first time in a long time feel that he wasn't entirely invisible.

By that time, he was becoming aware, as the hours slipped away, that you were filling up your glass more and more often. The bottle was now half empty when the food came, and you were already sporting rosy cheeks when the alcohol was pouring into your system.

“This is good,” you said, hardly bothering with your plate in order to gesture with your fork at it. "I mean, really good. Good call, Parker.”

The smile that appeared on Peter's face was that of nervousness. "Thanks. I'm glad you like it."

Now you leaned back in your seat, holding your glass up to the light. "You know, I don't really do stuff like this. I've kind of never had dinner with classmates. It's just a little… weird, you know?"

Peter sank a little. "Weird, how?"

"Not bad weird," you said immediately by waving your hand. "Just… different. Like, generally, I would just be at home watching some lousy reality show and trying to forget how much homework I have to do."

Peter chuckled, even though he had no idea what to say next.

After a sip of wine, the boy looked up at Peter who immediately landed his gaze upon the bottle. You seem well into your first glass with a heightening sense of ease that you appeared to be at his home. Maybe it was because of the wine or perhaps how you were looking at him right now-not with judging spectatorship but with a strange kind of understanding that made him feel as if he were not really out of place.

It was only a count of seconds before the food arrived while you already had a second glass in hand. Peter's stomach flipped at that moment. This wasn't the way he was used to seeing you, all loosened up and speaking without that slight guard he usually saw when you were around. You appeared different tonight, and Peter couldn't quite figure it out if it was a good thing or not.

However, the conversation was still going on, only that as soon as you took a few more drinks, conversations shifted to more profound, much more personal things. Laughter spilled from your lips more freely, although Peter saw that smiles were now somewhat uncontrollable. Maybe it was the wine; maybe it was just the ambience. In any case, he could feel something shifting, like you were letting him see this version of yourself you weren't sure he was supposed to see.

"Peter", you said, looking at him with wide eyes after a long sip. "What's your big dream? Like 20 years from now, what do you see yourself doing?"

He shifted around uneasily on his chair. And that question was sudden, a little more intense than he would have reckoned it to be. He was not used to being asked about his future like this.

"Honestly?" said Peter, leaning back a little and looking down at the half-finished plate in front of him. "I don't really know. I think- I think I want to do something with science, or photography. Maybe combine. Don't know really. Just like, I want to fix things, you know? Help make the world a little less broken.''

You were quiet for a moment, and Peter wasn't sure whether it was because he'd said something wrong or whether you were just thinking. But when you finally spoke, your voice was softer, almost quieter than before.

"I think that's really admirable, Peter."

That was it. That one simple sentence hit him harder than he expected. He wasn't used to compliments like that- not from you, not from anyone. The words were a strange dream, and for a second he just looked dumbfoundedly at you trying to really understand what you mean.

Peter had never imagined the night to go this way. Not even in a million years. But here he was, walking alongside you, swaying slightly on the sidewalk with less steadiness in your step than before. Surprisingly, the wine had hit you faster than he figured, and he wasn't so sure if he should be concerned or just chalk it up to the kind of night it had turned into.

"Hey, I'm-" You hiccupped, laughing lightly at your own clumsiness. "I'm fine, Peter. Really."

But Peter wasn't so sure. His instincts were whipping him into overdrive-the same ones that always made him want to leap into action when something was amiss. "Yeah, I don't think you are," he said, trying to keep it light. "Let me just walk you home, okay? Just to make sure you're good."

But you rolled your eyes, with an almost sheepish smile you gave in, "Fine, fine. I get it. You're worried about me."

"Yeah, I am," Peter said, his voice a little quieter than he intended. "But you're my responsibility right now, okay?"

You exhale a small laugh, and Peter can't help but take note of how completely giddy it sounded, a little like you weren't quite sure where you were or what you were doing. You leaned against him, and then Peter was surprised at how easily you let him help you with that.

The way home was otherwise silent except for the occasional trip and the muttered apologies from you. But Peter didn't mind it, sensing closeness, although strange. Everything was just weird tonight. The brushing of your hand against his as you reached for your keys. That laugh of yours that wouldn't leave his ears. The vulnerability you seemed to wear in your eyes at that moment.

So, then you reached your door, and you suddenly stopped and stood there, fumbling with the keys in your hand. Peter moved closer but silently offered to help. You shook your head.

"I've got this," you said, though your words were slurring just enough for Peter to catch the uncertainty behind them.

After much effort on your part, the door finally opened. You leaned in again, and Peter nearly lost his heart as he had to rush forward to steady you.

"Whoa, take it easy," Peter said catching you as you stumbled. "Let me help you."

You smiled up at him, glassy and unfocused. "I'm fine, Peter," you slurred. "Just a little…tipsy."

Peter chuckled and guided you up the walkway to your front door. "Tipsy, huh? Well, let's get you inside and safe, then."

As you both reached the front door, you fumbled with your keys and Peter had to gently take them from your hand and unlock the door himself. You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

After some time and a couple of tries, she got the door opened.

"Okay, inside," he said, his tone a little more powerful now. You did not resist him as he helped you through the door, but there was a strange sadness in your eyes that twisted Peter's stomach.

You moved slowly to the couch and finally sank down on it; the wine was exhausting. Peter stood near the door for a moment, wondering his next move. He wanted to shoot his shot, his thoughts wandered to somethings more inappropriate. Wasn't this all about getting you safe? Ensuring you did not end up passed out somewhere in a big, messy pile of sheets and regrets.

"Can you just… stay for a bit?" you asked quietly, with barely a whisper.

Peter hesitated. He didn't want to go too far, and he couldn't just leave you here, not looking so…fragile.

"Yes," he spoke softly, entering then into the living room. "I'll stay for a bit"

You nodded at him, gazing at him with tired eyes. "Thank you."

Peter perched on the edge of the couch; his hands awkwardly balanced on his knees. What a strange space there was between you two now, strange in that it was so very close, yet so far away. He wanted to be of some use and ensure you were okay, and yet the way the glance kept coming from you in that direction somehow felt… off. It was like walking on a fine line.

Peter looked at you longingly, you were so beautiful.

Too close and too perfect, he found himself sitting next to you, and Peter felt the pressure of so many things left uncommunicated fill his chest. He needed to do it. He needed to say it.

"Peter?" Your voice was a soft whisper, a little uncertain. Wine had aided this whole relaxing process, yet made almost everything feel slightly out of focus.

Peter swallowed, heart pounding in the chest. He wasn't entirely sure if it was the alcohol that has found narrate in your system, or if it was the raw honesty of the moment, but he knew very well it was now or never, the one chance to say all he had kept bottled up for months.

"Yeah?" he whispered, getting closer so that he was almost against you now.

"It's just that, I… I'm sorry if I've been too much tonight," you said, your words slightly slurring as you allowed your gaze to drift over his face. "I didn't mean to get that drunk."

Peter felt his breath hitch in his throat. "It's fine," he said, his voice softer now. He could feel his palms sweating, his heart racing faster than ever. "I just… I just want to make sure you're okay."

You smiled up at him, but it was a little foggy, and Peter could tell that the wine had dulled your clarity. Still, you were so beautiful, standing there, looking at him with those eyes—eyes that made him feel like he mattered.

Peter took a sharp breath and let a sudden breath of air come out. It was as if a magnet was pulling them together, and he was drawn to it. "So, uh– I was thinking…" He hesitated for a moment, then recovered his composure, trying to calm the trembling in his hands. "I've been thinking about you for a long time. Like, longer than I should have."

His brows knitted further in confusion as Peter quickly realized that the rest of the sentence was failing miserably in getting through your mind, as if the actual words were swimming around in it, suspended in fog. He stepped closer, unable to stop himself.

"If I—" He let out a shaky breath. "You know, I've been loving you for so long now. And tonight, I couldn't hold it anymore and just… broke the dam."

Your expression shifted slightly. Confusion clouded your gaze. You blinked, trying to piece together his words. "Wait, what?"

Peter took a step closer, completely incapable of holding himself back. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and he felt the heat between you intensify. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against your arm. "I love you," he whispered again, barely able to breathe. "I love you so much, and I've been too scared to say it. I've watched you for so long, and I—" Peter stopped mid-sentence as he looked at you, eyes looking like a lost puppy.

"You're so beautiful, so so beautiful" He leaned in, your face was so close to him, his lips brushed against yours. He held your face as he licked your lips.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin with just the proximity of Peter's face to yours, and the goosebumps it sent down your spine. Those eyes were filled deeply with a longing expression and captured yours as if drowning you in its depths. There was air that quite vibrated between the two of you, and the heat that seemed to take form could even be felt emanating from his body.

"I wanted to do that for so long," Peter whispered. His voice shuddered with desire. Gentle words falling like a caress to send shivers through you: "Wanted to touch you, hold you, kiss."

His lips brushed against yours when he spoke, making your body spark with electricity. You were pretty much melting into him, as if his very desire were consuming your human body. His lips, soft and gentle, just as firm and insistent. You tasted like wine.

"You're so beautiful" he said as his hands went underneath your dress, his hands inching close to your under garments. He touched your clothed core; he used his index finger to rub your clothed cover clit

You squirmed in his touch, "P-peter" You mewled in his mouth

This just seemed to fuel Peter even more, as he set aside your panties as his smooth fingers rubbed your now exposed core. Peter looked at you, he slowly kneeled as he spread your legs.

He looked at your wet core, as if it was a painting that he couldn't understand. Without warning he then sucked your glistening pearl; his tongue probed the inside of your gummy walls as his fingers rubbed your pearl. You cried out, your body arching up to meet him, and Peter felt a surge of excitement. He was in control now, and you were at his mercy.

He knew it was wrong, you were drunk after all, but he couldn't help it, this was his only chance.

He licked and sucked at your clit, his fingers plunging in and out of your dripping wet pussy, you cried out in ecstasy, your hands tugging at Peter's hair. But he didn't care, all he cared about was your dripping we cunt.

Anticipation dwells in the coiling mouth against your body, sending shivers along your spine. Every inch of you is lulled into stimulation by his gentle probing, drawing near to a soon-to-be-hidden insistent demand. You can feel that hot air glazing across your skin, soft scraping with teeth, and relentless pressure from his lips, all of which accompanies his tongue.

Your hands are clenched while he works, fingers digging into the sheets or perhaps his hair, holding him there. Your hips jerk primitively, as though to push him deeper and encourage more pressure, while your breathing makes raspy sounds mixed with soft mewls of pleasure.

One hand is busy at your hips, molding you solidly into place, while the other slips only up over the curve of your waist before settling over your breast.

You feel yourself immersing in the sensation as your focus is honed into one. The only critical thing is the feeling of his mouth on you. The whole room begins to fade away, and you're left with only the slushing wet sounds he makes and your breathless gasps, groans, and cries.

Peter on the other hand felt like he was in cloud nine, his mouth was now fully covered in your arousal, but he didn't care. He continued lapping at your cunt, accompanied with his middle finger thrusting in and out of you.

As the intensity rises, so do your frantic movements: the hips jerk and thrust as though reaching toward some ill-defined height. His mouth is a scythe-like blur of tongue lashing and probing until the pressure builds and you're all quivering trembling muscles, precariously balanced on a knife edge of release.

Your mouth is wide open, frozen in a silent scream on your lips, and your entire body starts quivering at the moment of release.

Then silence engulfs the outside world; its only inhabitants are trapped in a silent world of raw lust. His mouth is a furnace, raging, and threatening to engulf you completely, but you lean into the flames, thirsty for the intense heat that only he can provide. Your skin is slick with sweat, your heart thundering like a runaway train as your body builds toward the inevitable climax.

Your cries intensify as tension rises, a mournful cry into this frantic air, a scream savage, echoing off the walls as your body strains towards that release. Your muscles quivering.

Before you knew it, it almost hit you like rough wave of pleasure.

His cock twitched, his balls tightening with anticipation, as he felt the warmth of her your release in his mouth. That alone could make him cum his pants. He had never been this close to a woman before, and the thought of exploring your body was almost too much to bear. And here he was doing exactly just that.

You were beautiful to Peter, but you looked ungodly when you were in a state of release. The way your chest would heave up and down, how your mascara was running down your eyes, and your lipstick smudged on the side of your face.

"You're so beautiful" he said, barely even above a whisper.

"P-peter— OH MY GOD!"

He suddenly took a long slow stripe of your pussy, as if savoring everything, but then stopped when his tongue reached your clit. He sucked on your little pearl as if it was lollipop.

You moaned loudly as your back arched and your toes curled, "P-peter" You whimpered

The way he was sucking on your clit, along with his fingers that was thrusting deep inside you. It made it nearly unbearable. The last few moments or so almost sent you spiraling into one of those severe orgasms that made you see stars on your ceiling.

Loud moans slipped from your mouth, you wondered if your parents were at home, what if they see their sweet girl falling apart underneath the so-called weird kid of your school.

Your hips bucked against his mouth, trying to ease the bittersweet pleasure he was giving you. "P-peter, oh god, stop, I c-can't take it anymore" you begged in a voice very nearly a whisper. Body trembling, your hands reached instinctively for his hair, holding him.

He continued his performance on your clit. A familiar knot kept building inside you. Suddenly, the moans turned into loud gasps, and your body began to shake uncontrollably. P-peter, I…I think I'm going to come again" you finally whisper. To that, he only sucked harder, licked harder, his fingers falling on a rhythm with his tongue swirling relentlessly on your sensitive spot, bringing you to sweet agony. Your back arched up, you gasp while screaming, "P-PETER!"

Heaving and shaking with each pulsing moan, you lay there with your body's hypersensitivity after such intense pleasure receding. Finally, Peter raised his head. That satisfied smile on his face was testimony to your ability to elicit such feelings from him. And with his eyes, he stared at you, every flicker of lust speaking volumes about what was crossing his mind. Then he kissed near the center of time in your inner thigh, his lips dragging softly, and then moving to lie with you at the side of the couch

Peter's smile slowly faded as he noticed your catch of breath, replaced with a show of real concern. He stroked your hair as he gazed into your eyes. "That was intense," Peter said. "You're shaking." His voice was tender, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. "Time to get you to bed, all right?"

He managed a slowly rise from the couch while extending his hand forward towards you. You grasped onto it and found your balance shaky; nonetheless, Peter assisted you toward leaving the living room, down the hallway, and into your bedroom.

Peter opened your door slowly, revealing the bedroom from that night. Snap out of your thoughts Parker!

The bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room. Peter placed you carefully at the edge of the bed. He knelt down to remove your shoes and started undressing you slowly and carefully. He threw the covers over you as you laid back in bed, tucking you in like a young child.

"Rest," he whispered as he brushed his lips against your forehead. "Sleep, I'll be here when you wake." He sat beside you, stroking your hair with his hand. Your eyelids began to feel heavier, and weariness, along with all the forms of pleasure, finally overtook you. Peter was the last person you remember as you slipped into slumber, where upon you felt the warmth beside you that offered the source of a much-needed sense of safety.

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

[aardvaark]

leverage rewatch: s1e1 "the nigerian job"

i love that nate’s very first line is threatening to punch this guy in the throat, said while day drinking alone in a bar. really sets the stage for how broken up he is at this moment.

on the opposite end, hardisons first line is insulting the tech for this heist lol. immediately clear this team is gonna be a problem (affectionate) for nate.

eliot’s first line is said to somehow both commend and mock hardison ("you’re not as useless as you look") and that is a pretty good look into their dynamic for the whole series lol.

hardison and parker’s very first on-screen interaction is hardison being enamored with her (and eliot teasing him about it) <3

hardison telling eliot "i don’t even know what you do" is a fun little line because it starts to show how much the team actually know about each other before this heist. like, nate knows a decent amount about all of them, and they know a bit about nate. but hardison knows nothing about eliot, and eliot’s (previously mentioned) first line also implies that if he does know anything about hardison, it’s probably not much either. im gonna elaborate on this in a separate post before i get off track lol.

parker’s first *mention* comes before she’s actually on screen, when nate is looking through the files of the team he’s gonna work with and says that "parker is insane". people have pointed this out a bunch of times before but this is a really perfect first mention of her because we will spend most of her arc throughout the series showing that this isn’t really true! by season five, she’ll get to finally "respond" to that introduction of hers - "they said i was crazy, but i never was. i never was". and it’s really interesting to see nate go from being the person who calls her insane to fully trusting her with leading the team when he’s gone.

i still think about the giant sheet of glass that parker lets fall to the ground in the first heist lol. are the people on the street okay

also love the "why the f-" [cut off] line that parker gets. i think that's the closest we get to one of the main characters saying fuck?

nate calling them children in the first episode. ironic for a guy who did NOT set out to be a father figure to these weird criminals who are gonna follow him around for the next five years.

parker being the one to introduce the chess metaphor my beloved <3 shes very perceptive! and she also just knows that "crime is fun" and nate's bound to enjoy it lol.

hospital scene from the extended pilot <3 how come eliot's chained to a chair instead of a bed like the rest of them? anyway, i wish more people watched the extended pilot because in the season 1 finale when eliot shoves the hard hat on hardison's head, you should know that he's getting petty revenge for when hardison shoved eliot's head into the roof of the cop car in this scene.

nate saying there's "payback, and if it goes right, a lot of money" for eliot and "a lot of money, and if it goes right, payback" for parker, he's got their (current) motivations nailed already.

parker and hardison being like "yeah sure lets go get whatever a 'sophie' is" vs eliot asking lol. but he also evidently follows regardless. yeah thats pretty much how nate's gonna be, sorry eliot, you'll get used to this.

i find nate and sophie's first scenes so sweet. he watches her terrible acting but from his expression you'd think she was gonna win an oscar. and when she sees him in that alley, she's trying to continue being the cool and mysterious femme fatale but she's clearly so happy underneath - he came and found her! he sought her out! he's playing her side now, and that changes everything! (and one day soon she'll realise - oh shit, this changes everything. but tonight she's just over the moon). i know they're very much not the fan favourites, but u gotta admit that their interactions in the pilot... chefs kiss!!

in the next scene at hardison's apartment, (btw, rip hardison's awesome pilot apartment which we never see again), sophie is dressed down and intently listening and taking notes which is fairly unusual for her. but not out of character necessarily - when she mentors parker in grifting later, she encourages parker to take handwritten notes.

"that's an odd thing for you to know" "that's an odd place for you to be" (eliot and sophie's lines). he picks up on her suspicious knowledge and she challenges him right back. and he immediately knows to only trust sophie about as far as he can throw her.

i wish we got to see a little of sophie meeting the others! but there's no time and it would be an unnecessary scene. i like that their introduction to sophie was her awful acting though, because that will always be their first impression - not of an incredible grifter, but of a much sillier and more genuine version of sophie than we otherwise see for most of season one.

parker laughing at hardison's joke is also adorable.

no comments on the eliot + nate pool table scene, because @laser-tripwires has already written an incredible analysis of that interaction here. :) !!

actually the only thing i will mention is eliot saying that they all know about nate's kid dying - that's very important. nate wouldn't want them to know his vulnerabilities. even if they just pity him... well to him, that might be worse.

eliot saying "incoming" about sophie walking over is also really funny to me. referring to her like she's something dangerous, and he's joking but he's not wrong!

okay where did sophie get the "black king, white knight" line from? she was not there when parker said that. maybe everyone speaks in chess metaphors in the leverage Crime World.

[invincibledc]

ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐌𝚰𝐋𝐘 𝐗 𝐒𝐏𝚰𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙

Protege of Peter Parker, in their dimension/universe, Peter Parker use to babysit them. But due to the curious mind of a fourteen year old, they followed Peter when he left them. Thinking that they were asleep but really was following him. Looking over a cornered they didn’t notice a spider crawling its way to them in weird colors. It bites them, making them yelp. That currently caused the attention of a certain spider human who webs then up. Long story short, y/n whines to be his sidekick, I mean who wouldn’t want to help THE Spiderman! And especially when he use to watch them.

And you became Webster, you’re still working on the name. But still! You found out how the spider you got hit by gave you powers… but it’s kinda freaky to shoot out your own webs..

It all happened when you were patrolling with Parker, making small little web cobs in your neat spider suit that apparently was made by some stark guy. He’s kinda like an uncle to you perhaps? Like those rich uncles that let you go crazy and but whatever you want to just get you out of his hair.

Either way, your adhd is off the charts as you suddenly focus due to a very loving smack to the back of your head. The patrol goes wonderful, with just webbing up muggers, thugs, and robbers.

Dusting your hands off, smirking behind your expressive lenses of your mask, you couldn’t help but web a guy to a wall.

“Better think twice before mugging innocent civilians!” The mugger grunted with annoyance. “You little sh—” you web his mouth shut, cupping your ear. “What’s that? Yeah let’s not, we’re keeping this friendly.” You then looked at yourself that’s holding your device reading this as of now. Yes you. You pointed to yourself, but let’s stop breaking this wall. “Can’t believe this guy is actually wanting to ruin this. I mean can you believe it?!”

The mugger gave you a weird look as you were.. talking to yourself? He struggled against the webs, you finished your monologue and web swing off. “Bye bye mug man!” Childish giggling was echoed into the air.

“Man! Another night another— PORTAL?!” You looked to see a weird portal infront of you. You let go of your web, going to shoot it at another lamp post to avoid it. I mean literally, it wasn’t the usual portal Miguel would forced open for you. But the portal said “SIKE!” and grabbed you up.

Now here you are in some dark city that looks like New York… but more gloomy and stinks! Covering your nose through your mask, you gagged. “Ugh! Is this how it smells when changing babies diapers?” You walked around, before web shooting. As you were web swinging, you pulled out your less dominant arm and looked at the watch to contact anyone.

“Wonder if I can contact Peter from here..” you swung yourself into a street lamp, landing with a crouching formation. You dial around the thingy, “cmonnn.” Nothing. Groaning annoyed, you covered your face into your hands. You then looked at the readers reading this now.

“It’s not like I’m gonna be in some trouble in the top of five minutes.” You smiled as you gave the readers a peace sign before swinging off.

“WHY DID I JINX MYSELF!” You exclaimed, swinging through anything your webs can grab onto. You were being chased some 10 year old! You’re fourteen for crying out loud, no way you are being chased by some midget, but this kid got a katana! And the only person you know that has a katana is either Deadpool or your best friend who idolizes DP.

Each web was cut down with these bat shaped boomerangs or whatever you thought they were. You didn’t care, not at all. Only thing you cared for was just surviving this angry kid who got mad at you calling him a so called “midget”. You started to get tired, swinging yourself around a corner and hiding behind a dumpster. You listened closely to footsteps, for a few minutes you don’t hear anything.

Lettting out a breath of relief, you get up. “Hah, no one can catch the ultimate spider—” and you were captured in a net. The boy with a R on his costume glared behind his mask. “You’re infuriating.” “Hey that’s a big word for you.” Being cocky, the kid kicked your rib which made you groan. Okay, now you wish you had spider senses. You were then dragged to some cave?

So…. Why in the world where you tied up by some kid with a katana. And why were they’re like four other guys staring them down weirdly.

What’s going on?!

[plaidos]

Something mildly interesting happened today. I'm in the car with my mother and for some reason we end up getting onto the topic of transmisogyny and its pervasiveness in USA society and culture. I forget exactly how we got there, but I'm talking about the cultural attitudes of transmisogyny and my mother brings up terfs. I'm like actually yeah you're right, and bring up Bechdel and Michfest and my mother just immediately goes "Oh yeah, I know all about that."

You see, my mother was in her 20s in the late 90s and actually knew people who went and also knew all about the discussions going on around their exclusionary policies during that time. And she's just like "Oh yeah no I get it Bechdel is 100% a terf" and like. I love my mother but she's a little out of the loop on queer issues, being 50 and her disabilities keeping her from getting out much, leaving her with a somewhat spotty education on current queer topics.

These people being like "oh but Bechdel can't be a terf" have less transfeminist politics than my mother, who doesn't even know a whole lot about transfeminism.

it’s literally that easy. people have constructed white cis butch lesbians from the 90s as this totally morally untouchable group, and in reverse, have constructed their idea of terfs to exclusively be the rabid crazy open nazis like Posie Parker…

it might sound wild to a lot of people now, but folks like Alison Bechdel are the original people the word “terf” was meant to refer to — it was literally coined to describe the people who attended Michfest specifically, how more straightforward does it get than that? — but the overton window has shifted to be so much more violently & aggressively transphobic that she seems like a trans activist in comparison to say, JK Rowling, because she has had the decency to be polite about trans people once or twice.

People don’t seem to understand that the general public is actually much more transphobic than they were fifty years ago; it was generally accepted that reassignment surgery would fundamentally make somebody their “desired gender” even if it was looked down upon, and the radical feminists Bechdel looked up to & took her politics from (like notorious OG terfs Adrienne Rich & Mary Daly) redefined womanhood as specifically people assigned female at birth, and she kept totally in line with those beliefs for decades even whilst she paid lip service about how trans people deserve to be treated nicer. even her so-called pro trans bathroom comic has the undercurrent of the very present terf belief that trans women are reinforcing sexism by presenting traditionally feminine, and that we are treated nicer by straight women for it — like that is fundamentally the punchline of her trans bathroom comic!

but as long as she’s still bragging about how awesome Michfest is in her books, i’m going to call her a terf, because that’s what the word means, so she still is one. i’ll stop when she apologises for being a spineless bigot for decades.