#peter parker x plus sized reader

[t1red-twilight]

Hey! I was wondering if youre open to writing a chubby or plus size reader? If so would you be willing to do a peter parker or steve harrington one with the fluff prompt 'can i borrow your sweater' but its the readers sweater cause theyre a little bigger then them yk? Sorry if this makes you uncomfy, you can ignore it i was just curious :) ty!

can i borrow your sweater?

content/warnings: gn!reader, chubby/plus size!reader, fluff, clingy peter</3

notes: thank you for requesting! this is such a cute idea, and also writing for a chubbier reader was so fun. i myself am midsize and i loved writing this<3

word count: 1.3k

masterlist p. parker masterlist

winter in new york had come early this year. this had not been a problem for you, as you thrived in the cold. most of the clothes that you owned were sweaters.

also, as of late your rent had gone up and you couldn’t afford to pay it. so, your best friend peter offered to let you move in and you could split his rent. after some back and forth, and peter assuring you it’d be no big deal, you moved in.

there were two issues, and one that you had not been informed of. peter’s apartment complex had a habit of the heat going out, and the landlord seemed to not care when anyone would complain about it.

the other problem was that you possibly, maybe, perhaps, most likely, had a crush on peter. something about his soft voice and his gentle hands enthralled you. or perhaps it was his penchant for justice and standing up for what he believed in. either way, the butterflies that ravaged your stomach when he entered a room only grew in size when you moved in.

luckily, regarding problem number 1, you were set. a tee shirt plus a sweater or two and you were good to go. somewhere in your boxes was your heated blanket, but presently you couldn’t find it in you to loot around in your things just yet.

currently, you were wearing two sweaters and sitting underneath one of peter’s throw blankets on the couch, watching tv. out of the corner of your eye you saw peter exit his room and enter the living room.

the first thing that you noticed was how bare he was considering the current circumstances. the heat had gone out in the apartment again, and there was a storm coming in. just your luck, however, talking to or messaging the landlord was fruitless as he never responded over weekends.

seeing as all you had was a tiny space heater, peter not stocking up and drowning himself in a sweater or two was weird. when he sat down you gave him a weird look. “aren’t you cold?” you asked.

peter immediately shook his head, a little too enthusiastically. “do you want some blanket?” you followed up. this time he paused, and then nodded affirmatively. you held up the side of the blanket and he scooted closer to you. it seemed as if the hum of the television went silent as he curled into you.

peter’s chin rested on top of your shoulder and the rest of his body pressed up against and into your side. every now and then he would nestle in closer, almost like a dog or a cat settling in for the night.

then you felt it: shivering. despite staring your body heat and a blanket, peter began to shiver. “do you want to go get a sweater or a hoodie or something? you’re practically vibrating, pete,” you said. your voice was lowered as he was so close to you.

peter nodded before answering, “yeah,” he paused. “but all mine are dirty right now.” you turned your head to look at him, quirking an eyebrow.

“you don’t have any?”

at your question, he shook his head “no.” you had unpacked most of your wardrobe. he could definitely wear one of yours. “do you want to wear one of mine?”

his head turned to look at you. his soft brown eyes looked almost pleading. “yes,” he said curtly. following his answer, you stood to go and grab one from your room. just as you were placing the blanket back down to cover peter, he stopped you.

“no, i want that one,” he said, pointing at the outwardmost purple sweater that you were wearing. huh? your face scrunched up in confusion. why would he want this one? “it’ll be warm already cause you’ve been wearing it.” his voice dropped a couple decibels and his eyes darted away a few times.

you slid the sweater off and became aware that your layers had risen slightly to show the expanse of your belly. quickly, you jerked your shirt and the remaining sweater back down. you handed the purple knit sweater over to peter.

you were aware of your size, and that in some places you were bigger than peter. sometimes you were more aware of it than others. needless to say, your sweater should have no problem fitting him.

when he put it on, he looked so very snug. he pulled the sleeves of the sweater over his hands and the neckline up to his chin. oddly enough, peter’s cozy appearance made you feel almost territorial. there he was, your best friend, wearing your clothes. perhaps you’d have to find a way to get him to do this again; but maybe that was just being selfish.

it hit you that you were staring him down when his hand wrapped itself around your wrist and tugged you back towards him on the couch. this time he pulled the blanket up to allow you to crawl underneath it. as quickly as he could, he burrowed in close to you just as he had before.

sure, the lack of your second sweater made the chill a little more obvious, but frankly, you couldn’t really feel it. a flustered heat rose to your cheeks and encompassed your body.

you tried with all your might to go back to watching the show that was playing, but you couldn’t focus. after all, your best friend (who you weren’t really sure how you felt about) was huddled up close to you, while wearing your clothes. needless to say, you were beyond distracted.

peter’s breath brushed against your face, and you could smell the fresh scent of the cologne or aftershave he had on.

after an agonizing thirty-ish minutes, peter spoke. “i think it’s time for bed,” he mumbled.

you hummed in affirmation, trying to find the strength to speak without your voice breaking. “yeah,” was all you managed to get out. the two of you stayed sitting for a couple more moments before you stood up. your back was stiff and your cheeks were still hot. you briefly turned to wave at him, and gave a strangled, “good night, peter.”

“wait!” he called. you stopped mid-step to look back at him. he was standing, both hands held out. “it’s going to be a cold night,” he stated. you nodded. duh. “you’re going to get really cold,” he continued. you weren’t really sure if you were the one to be worried about, to be honest.

peter took two steps toward you. “i’m not sure you should really be worried about that,” you vocalized. “seeing as you needed my sweater just now.”

“yes!” his voice was slightly louder. “i’m going to get really cold.” your eyebrows scrunched, unsure of what he was getting at. “that’s why i think you should sleep in my room tonight. to, uh-” he swallowed and his adam’s apple bobbed. “to share body heat.”

at this moment you could hear your heart in your ears. your mouth was slightly agape, but you closed it quickly. all you could do was nod and let peter lead you to his room.

you were familiar with his room and all the trinkets that he had inside of it. peter pulled back the sheets and duvet on one side before walking around to the other side and getting in. as casually as possible you got in too. this was perfectly normal! best friends totally did stuff like this all the time. this was no big deal.

before you could even get a grip on what your racing mind was thinking, peter was right next to you, scooting in again. you took a deep breath and decided that if you were going to share a bed with him, you might as well do it on your own terms. nerves, or not.

you mimicked his action and inched in towards him, and curled an arm around his waist. he followed, and pulled your body in to his. you could hear his steady heartbeat from the angle you were at.

then, you saw from over his shoulder a drawer that sat opened just a little. what was in it made your smitten heart beat a little harder with infatuation. in the drawer sat peter’s own collection of sweaters. there they sat, and they were clean.

[bitchyycapricorn]

Bitten

Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist Word Count: 1.6K Synopsis: Peter’s body changes significantly after being bitten Warnings: Angst, Smut, very fluffy, oral (F and M receiving), P in V, language AN: Characters are aged up. Also, sorry this is one of my shorter ones, wanted to get a small blurb out before my long work. Not edited.

Peter before the spider bite:

You found yourself once again sitting in your boyfriends room watching as he messes with his new Star Wars lego set. “Babyyyyy, I’m boredddd.” You whine, hoping to get his attention after sitting on his bed for almost four hours just playing on your phone. Peter’s head shot up at your voice while a dorky smile spreads across his perfect lips.

“Well then, what would YOU like to do?” He asks while standing up to stretch.

You tap your chin and look up at the ceiling jokingly. “Probably you,” you tease. Peter’s eyes go wide, as shock paints his face.

“M-me?” He quivers with a terrified face before bursting into laughter with you.

“Oh my-just come over here you doof!” You giggle while holding your arms open. Peter quickly jumps into bed to join you, his lanky body slipping easily into your arms.

“Sooo…” Peter mumbles into your neck, “you really wanna do me?” He asks looking up at you and wiggling his eyebrows. You let out a laugh and nod, capturing Peters lips in your own.

“Take your cloths off lover boy,” you hum while sliding your own shirt off. Peter is quick to oblige, throwing his shirt to the side to reveal his small, and quite scrawny figure. You liked it though, after all, he was your Peter and your Peter was perfect. “I love your body you know that Pete?” You smile, leaning in to kiss his chest.

You watch as Peters cheeks flush a bright red, “R-really?” He laughs nervously.

You wrap your arms around him quickly mumbling a “I love it more than anything, you’re so sexy,” into his chest. Peter laughs again before crawling out of your lap to help you pull off your shorts.

“Well I, I love your body too,” He beams as he throws your underwear onto his desk.

“Peter!” You gasp as you feel him bury his head between your thighs. His tongue slowly licking between your folds and grazing your clit. Arching your back, you lightly grab ahold of Peters hair, admiring the way he looked between your thighs. You could already feel the pleasurable sensation of your orgasm creeping up on you, the feeling making your muscles tense and your insides feel warm and fuzzy.  “Fuck, babe I’m close,” your moan, grip tightening on Peter’s messy curls. His tongue swirled around your clit a few more times before you felt yourself release, grinding your hips as you finish. Peter smiles, popping up and giving you a sloppy kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue and lips.  “Your turn,” You hum, flipping you and Peter over so he was now propped up on the pillows.

Peter let out a small moan as you toy with the zipper of his jeans, truthfully struggling to get them off. Peter lifts his hips, allowing you enough room to discard both his pants and boxers. A smile plays on your lips as your hand slowly strokes his cock. He was around 6 inches and fit just about perfectly in your mouth. You found yourself admiring his aching cock as you lay down on your tummy, eagerly taking him in your mouth. Peter let out a gasp as you bob your head, enjoying the feeling oh him hitting the back of your throat. “N-not too m-much uuuhh longer, I’m-I’m already close,” Peter stutterers, feeling his cock begin to twitch in your mouth. You slowly remove your mouth from him, making a loud popping sound as he flew out of your mouth completely.

“Ready?” You hum, as you sat up and position yourself on top of him. Peter nodded quickly, squeezing your tits as you slowly sunk down onto his cock. “Oh-fuck Peter,” You moan, throwing your head back as you slowly slid up and down his hard cock. “Fuck you feel so good, you-fuck-you fill me so well,” You whine as you continue to bounce. You place your hands on his smooth chest to balance yourself, before slowly grasping onto his shoulders.

You continue to ride him, loving the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you. “I-I’m close Y/N,” Peter moans , bucking his hips up into yours. Within a few minutes Peter was pulling out of you and finishing on his stomach while you helped him clean up.

When you find out about the spider bite:

“Peter what the fuck,” You gasp, staring at your mostly naked boyfriend standing in the middle of his room.

Peter’s head snaps to the now open door, staring at you like he had just committed a crime. “Y/N…I don’t know what’s going on with me.” Peter’s voice cracks. Your eyes skim his now extremely muscular body, with his new set of abs, broad shoulders, and thick arms. “Y/N, I don’t know what to do,” Peter cries, feeling suddenly out of place in his new body.

“Hey, it’s okay, do you know what happened babe?” You ask softly, as you close the door and begin to approach Peters crying figure. Your arms wrap around him, embracing him in a tight hug. His arms squeeze you, and you became suddenly hyper aware of just how strong his grip was and how every one of his muscles felt against your bare arms.

Peter heaved a few more sobs before sitting down onto the bed with you. “Remember that spider exhibit I went to visit a few days ago? The one you refused to go to with me?” Peter asked, his red puffy eyes staring into yours.

You nod, touching his face and replying with a soft “Yes.”

“Well,” Peter sighs, “One of the spiders was missing from it’s compartment, and while I was there I felt a sharp bite on my neck, and the next thing I know I can see and hear things so much better. I can stick to the wall! I’ve gotten bigger…everywhere! And I’m hungry and sweaty and I feel amazing yet so sick at the same time.” He rambles.

“So wait…you’re telling me that you got bitten by a radioactive spider and are now some bulky ass man who has like super hearing?” You ask furrowing your eyebrows.

“Yes…?” Peter replies sucking in another breath.

“Okay…wait…did you say sticking to walls?”

Peter with the spider bite:

You and Peter had been adjusting to the new spider bite for about three weeks now, trying to figure out all the new things Peter could do along with helping him get used to experiencing his new and enhanced senses, oh, and the Peter tingle. You both had been so wrapped up in figuring stuff out it was only now as you were laying in Peters bed on a rather warm day that you realize neither of you have had sex for over a month. In fact, the last time you saw Peter even close to naked was the day you found out about the spider bite and he was just in a pair of boxers. Since then he seems so nervous to even take his shirt off around you.

“Hey Peter?” You ask turning to your boyfriend who is hiding in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants on an almost 90 degree day. “You can take off your sweatshirt you know? I don’t bite, unless you want me to.” You tease, tugging at the warm material of his sweatshirt.

“I’m cold,” Peter lies, still looking at his phone.

“Peter?” You ask again, finally getting Peter to turn to you. “Why won’t you let me see your body anymore?” You finish quietly.

Peter frowns, realizing that you’d finally noticed his hesitation to let you see him with nothing on. “I’m scared,” he answers honestly. “You’d always tell me how much you loved the way I looked, and how you liked my build before, all of that, and now I look different. I know that typically people favor a more muscular build but what if you don’t? What if you only like what I used to look like?”

You stare at Peter for a moment before a warm smile spread across your pink lips. “Oh, Peter,” you sigh, sitting up and fully turning toward him. You gently cup his face with your palm, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “Of course I loved your body before, but I love it now too. I really don’t care what your build is sweetheart, I just care that you’re my Peter. I fell in love with your goofy smile and your absurd jokes, not your body after some hookup. Besides, bodies change, mines changed since we’ve met, and you still love mine.” You smile kissing his lips softly.

“You’re right” Peter sighs pulling away from the kiss. “I was just so worried you’d view me differently,” he mumbles.

“I know, but hey, I’m going to love you regardless,”

“Okay good because I’m about to die of heat,” Peter groans slipping off his sweatshirt followed by his sweatpants and boxers. His naked boy lays spread out across the sheets, radiating previously trapped heat.

You let out a laugh, slowly running your hand up his muscular chest. “You look hot babes,” You tease, slowly massaging his right shoulder.

“I am hot, I am sweating, look at me!” Peter groans again.

“I meant you’re like sexy hot,” You giggle, running your hand down his arm. “But i could make you even hotter if you want,” You wink at him.

Peter raised an eyebrow at you, feeling blood rush down to his now hardening cock. “It that so?” he asks with a small smirk. “I mean, it has been forever,” he admits, rolling onto his side to face you.

You hum, placing a kiss to his lips before scanning his body again. “Um Peter…” you ask slowly.

“Yes love?” He asks slowly placing his hand on your thigh.

“D-did your dick get bigger?” You laugh nervously remembering just how much it already filled you up before.

“Yeah, extra two inches, wanna try it out?” Peter winks, before tackling you onto his soft mattress.

+++

TAGLIST

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Soulmates with Peter Parker? 🥺💕

.⋆｡Arachnophobia｡⋆.

Peter Parker x plus size reader

Who knew that moving to New York could be just the kick the universe needed to fulfil your destiny?

Warnings: fluff, soulmate AU, explosions WC: 876

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

6k Celebration Bingo

Well this spider doesn’t hate you.

Those were the words that appeared along your collarbone the day you turned 18. The black lettering was just barely visible when you awoke that morning but by lunch time, all of your friends were poking fun at the strange phrase now permanently branded into your skin. You glared at them as you told them to back off and that you at least had an interesting soulmate if their first words to you were as strange as that.

But a nagging part of your mind wondered if they were right, if the person that burned with the same flame as you did was some kind of weirdo. As the months went on, you imagined countless scenarios where those six words would be uttered to you. Maybe at a frat costume party where they would be dressed like a spider. Or they were your next door neighbour and they saved you from a stray arachnid that had made a home in your kitchen. Or maybe they were just really into spiders in general. Needless to say, your obsession with your soulmate's words had slowly developed an aversion to the insects, going completely out of your way to avoid them just in case your soulmate was a weirdo like your friends had predicted.

Three years after you finally escaped the social wormhole of high school, you moved to New York City. With a scholarship under your belt and dreams of going to a college that could handle more than 300 students, you moved into a tiny dorm right at the edge of Columbia’s campus. You were excited to chase your dream but first- you needed groceries.

With headphones fitted tightly against your ears, the deafening sounds of the city blurred around you. You weren’t really sure exactly where you were going but it was early afternoon and your phone was fully charged, so what was the harm in wandering for a while. 

New York City opened up before you, the skyline glittered with thousands of windows and bright lights capturing your gaze no matter where you turned. It was all so exciting and rather distracting. You were ignorant to the commotion building behind you, until a strange heat licked at the back of your neck.

In a second, your world went completely upside down, literally. The only warning you received before the wind was knocked from your lungs was the blast of some sort of explosion and then, the world zipped by you. Someone had a firm hold on your thick waist as dots of light swirled around you. You clung to them, your head spinning as they lifted you higher and higher, until it all suddenly stopped.

Gravel crunched under your shoes as you stumbled forwards. A hand curled around your wrist, keeping you upright. You crashed into his strong chest. Your eyes slowly came into focus as the ringing in your ears faded. Sirens filled the air yet all you could think about was the insignia of a spider splayed across the red suit right in front of you.

“God I hate spiders.” The white eyes of his mask widened comically as you heard his breath stutter. His grip on your waist tightened for just a second.

“Well this spider doesn’t hate you.” The world stilled in that moment. You leaned back just enough to look into his eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“I didn’t expect this.”

“Neither did I, I mean I am Spider-MAN and you hate spiders.” Heat crawled up your cheeks while you bashfully glanced away but quickly looked at him as he laughed. Something deep in your chest came to life with his laugh, quickly spreading through your veins and making your heart flutter with a whole new emotion. 

His gloved hands slipped down to the small of your back. You could feel the way his body shook with adrenaline, just the same as yours was. “Maybe I don’t hate this spider.”

“I could be venomous.” You shrugged, your fingers slowly creeping up the expanse of his torso, feeling the toned muscle that lay just beneath his suit.

“As long as you don’t bite, I think we’ll be ok.” His mask scrunched up where you imagined his lips would be.

“I-�� Another explosion rocked the building beneath your feet. He tore his gaze away from you. He sighed heavily and reluctantly took a step back. “I have to go.”

Your touch lingered on him for as long as you could, almost fearful that he would completely vanish the second you let him go. “I know.” The tips of his fingers brushed against the swell of your hips.

“I’ll come back, I swear.” His voice cracked. 

“Go save the world Spidey and I’ll let you take me on a date.” And with a gentle kiss to his masked cheek, you fully broke away from the other half of your soul. 

He jumped onto the ledge of the building you stood atop of. “Just so long as there’s plenty of flies for me to eat.” And as he swung away, your laughter still ringing in his ears, Peter was suddenly glad that there was one person in the world who hated spiders.

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @Faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv @black-rose-29 @minedofmoria

Marvel

@andreasworlsboring101 @harleycao @annhells @cruelladejill @lokiandbuckysdoll @pretty-npeach @cakesandtom @beautyb1ade @queer_poncho @everything-is-awesomesauce @bitchy-bi-trash @hc-geralt-23 @wisteriia222 @certifiedhunter @relatednative

[maxxieluvs]

I AM SICK AND FUCKING TIRED OF ONLY SEEING SMUT WHEN I WANT TO READ FOR A PLUS SIZE READER I WANNA SEE THE SAME FLUFFY ROMANCY SHIT I SEE FOR SKINNY PETITE BITCHES

[moonstruckme]

hey queen! i am humbly requesting some tasm!peter x plus sized!reader 🛐

maybe he was coming home from patrolling/being out as spidey and saw something in a window that reminded him of reader? like a knickknack or flowers or something like that? and he comes home and gives it to her and she’s all flustered and smitten 🤭

feel free to add your own spin to it or anything! i’m just in need of fluff and hugs from my boy 🫶🏻

Thanks for requesting lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x plus size!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Peter knows he’s got other things he should be doing. He’s technically not done with the amount of time he likes to spend patrolling every day (plus there’s a serial burglar out there he should really be trying to catch), and if he’s not doing that he should be getting home to work on the research paper he’s got due tomorrow, and if he’s doing neither of those things Aunt May’s been begging him all week to dust the shelves she can’t reach. But when you open your door and he sees the look on your face, Peter knows he made the right decision neglecting all that shit. 

“Hi!” Your voice lilts through the syllable, happiness coating it like honey. 

“Hey,” Peter says back, immediately losing whatever advantage he had in the conversation. You’re surprised to see him, sure, but he’s surprised to see you like this. You’re still in your pajamas, evidently enjoying a day in, a large t-shirt and draw-string shorts that make you look all lazy and adorable and leave the delicate flesh of your thighs on display. Peter wants to bite them, but that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly. 

“Hey,” he says again, blinking to clear the haze from his brain. “I, uh, you said you like irises, right?” 

“Yeah…” There’s a hesitant sort of question in your voice. You eye the small bunch of flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?” 

Peter grins. “Who else, sweetheart?” He tacks on the endearment mostly to see you fluster. It’s a success; your arms come up to hug your torso as your cheeks dimple, smile half-suppressed. 

He passes you the flowers before he can fluster too. The plastic wrap crinkles under your careful touch, and you glance between him and them like you can’t decide which to admire first. 

“Thank you so much,” you say. “Did we…have something today?” 

“No,” he laughs, hooking his thumb in the strap of his backpack. “No, you’re good. I was just in the neighborhood, and they made me think of you.” 

Your eyes go all pretty-pleased at the comment, but you tilt your head curiously. “What do you have to do around here?” 

Ah, the question he’d hoped you’d be too happy to ask. The truth is, Peter’s almost never in this neighborhood if not for you. Spiderman gets around, but there’s not usually as much going on here as in the rest of the city. He’d spotted the flowers at a stand he’d webbed a catcaller to on the lower east side, and then came over to your end of town to bring them to you. It was only, like, a ten minute swing. Much more efficient than the subway. 

“Thrifting,” he says slowly. “I was, uh, just looking to update my closet a bit, and I know you’ve got a lot of good thrift stores around here.” 

“Nice.” You smile, taking a little sniff of your irises. Their bright color makes your already exquisite face look even lovelier, and it’s such a perfect image Peter wishes he had his camera on him. “Can I see your finds?” 

“No,” he replies. Too quickly, so he tries to look really put out to compensate for it. “No, I didn’t find anything. I’m…really picky about my clothes.” 

“Oh.” Your eyes drop to his plain gray t-shirt and jeans, but thankfully you’re too nice to say anything. 

“Right,” Peter blazes ahead, tugging on the straps of his backpack, “so I just wanted to bring you those, and I’ve actually got shelves to dust, so I’d better go…” 

“Okay, thanks for the flowers,” you say. “They’re really pretty.” 

“Yeah, I figured it must be hard being so pretty all by yourself,” he says, spinning around to walk backwards so he can see your reaction, “so I figured I’d get you a companion.” 

You press your lips together, flushing and tilting your head downwards as if to hide it. “Thanks,” you almost whisper. Peter grins hugely. 

You look up just as he’s turning back around, your focus narrowing on something behind him. 

“Hold on a second.” Peter halts opediently, and you come outside, that t-shirt fluttering prettily around your hips. “Something’s falling out of your bag…” 

He thinks to be nervous just before you pull the red and blue mask from the unzipped pocket of his backpack. 

“What’s this?” 

“That…” Peter’s nodding but he doesn’t know why. It’s some sort of automatic response, like he turns into a bobblehead under pressure. His mouth is void of saliva. “That’s a costume.” 

Your eyebrows twitch together as one side of your mouth kicks up, like you’re not sure what to make of him. “You dress up as Spider-Man?” 

The nodding turns to shaking weirdly seamlessly. “No! No, of course not, I’m an adult. It’s—it’s not for me.” You look at him expectantly. “I’m making it…for my nephew.” 

“Oh.” You blink. “I didn’t know you had a nephew.” 

“Really?” Peter hears his voice pitching higher, but he’s powerless to stop it. “I didn’t mention him? We’re pretty close—well, not that close. He lives…away. In Connecticut. But he wants a Spider-Man costume, and obviously he wants me to make it, because…I’m the guy for that stuff.” 

You nod respectfully. “You are really good at sewing,” you say, and the look you’re giving him is so sweet it nearly takes his knees out from under him. “It’s nice of you to do that for him. You’re really thoughtful, Peter.” 

You say it all soft and considerate, like it’s a secret you’re letting him in on, and Peter’s honestly worried for his heart health. He’s not sure it can take the strain of all this. 

“Yeah, well, only for people I care about,” he says just as quietly. 

You drop your gaze, smiling to yourself, and start tucking the mask back inside his backpack. “Your nephew must be a cool kid. I’d love to meet him sometime.” 

“Yeah, maybe if he comes to town sometime.” Which will be, you know, never. But hopefully by the time it gets suspicious you’ll know enough that he can come clean with you about that. 

He hears the zipper close and turns before you can move away. Peter wants desperately to wrap his arms around you, feel the softness of your body pressed up against his, but he settles for taking your hand. At the look on your face when he smiles and gives it a squeeze, you would’ve died at the alternative. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

Your lips part. “No problem,” you breathe. 

He gives your hand one more press for good measure, letting his fingers drag across yours as he steps away. “See you Friday, yeah? For dinner?” 

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “I’ll see you then.” 

Peter shoots you one last grin over his shoulder, headed down the sidewalk. “Looking forward to it.” 

[motherofdogs1010]

Need to Know I (Peter Parker x Reader)

Inspired by Doja Cat's "Need to Know"

Summary: When she was ready to get back out on the dating scene after dumping a certain Winter Soldier, Y/N was a woman ready to get back out there. She just never expected to find herself in a relationship with a certain nerdy spider.

Warnings: older woman/younger man, small age gap, everyone is adult age!, cheater Bucky, fratboy Peter, consensual sex, semi public sex, heavy smut, drinking, swearing, unprotected sex Look at Masterlist for more warnings

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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

Part 1

TWO MONTHS AGO

Y/N downed the shot of tequila that Tony had passed her, laughing as she felt the burn in her throat and hearing Tony cheering. Say what you want about Tony, but he knew how to party as he had taken them to some nightclub that he bought for shits and giggles.

"Enjoying the burn", Tony teased, Y/N laughed.

"It's the tequila sweats that I hate", she said back.

Standing up from the little VIP booth Tony had rented for them all, Y/N scoped out her surroundings. She saw Nat dragging a bashful Steve to the dance floor, Steve was awkwardly moving around before he finally got the hang of it and began dancing with Nat. Y/N laughed as she watched Steve get down on the dance floor, she spotted Vision (who had his human form on) with Wanda near the bar as Wanda was getting another drink.

"Are you having fun?"

Y/N looked in the direction to see Peter standing there with a grin, Y/N smiled back at him.

"I wondered where you were", Y/N responded, "I always forget your 21."

"My babyface makes it that way", Peter joked.

Y/N had to admit, Peter Parker was a very attractive man, especially right now with his hair gelled back, a white button down that had the sleeves rolled up and dark slacks. Tony said Peter had changed a lot since high school, having managed to join a fraternity in his first year of college; she had only met Peter in the last year so hearing that he was anything but confident before was a little shocking since he walked around like a little mini Tony sometimes.

Peter moved a little closer to her as Tony announced that he was going to join Wanda at the bar.

Sam and Clint were missing, both men having taken some time off to go visit their families, especially for Sam since he wanted to be there for one of his nephew's birthdays.

Although, the person that everyone seemed to ignore that wasn't there was a certain Winter Soldier, but it seemed everyone was on the rocks with the man at the moment. But cheating and immediately bringing around the girl you cheated with will do that, won't it?

Of course that was the main reason behind Tony bringing nearly all of them out to the club was because of her confiding in Tony about being ready to get back out there. She felt no issue confiding in Tony considering how close of friends they were, she was coming out in his upcoming wedding to Pepper in just a few months time.

"It's a cute babyface", Y/N teased, Peter chuckled.

"I'm glad you're having fun", Peter said, "you deserve it."

Y/N smiled as she tugged up the neckline of her red mini dress, the fabric clinging to her large breasts and hips. It was an off the shoulder dress that she chose just for the occasion with long sleeves and paired with some red bottoms that Nat was letting her borrow.

Y/N watched as Peter looked a bit indecisive as if he was second guessing himself before he blurted out, "Would you like to dance?"

"Don't you think you should be dancing with someone your own age?" she teased before Peter snaked a toned arm around her hips.

"Age is just a number, right?" Peter answered with a wink.

Y/N felt surprised, she was older than Peter by 7 years and she wouldn't be an idiot to say she hadn't noticed the younger man's eyes occasionally roaming her figure. But she never thought much of it considering she had been in a relationship with Bucky, but that bridge was burned a lot time ago.

She was here to have fun, dance a little, drink... there was no harm in just a dance, right?

"Alright, Spiderboy", Y/N said, "show me what you got."

~

Wanna know what it's like (like) Baby, show me what it's like (like) I don't really got no type (type) I just wanna fuck all night

The sound of Doja Cat singing could be heard even in the women's restroom, the door locked in a rush as Peter pressed her harder into said door. Their tongues dancing across one another as she could taste the alcohol on his tongue, Y/N moaned as Peter slotted his knee between her legs, pressing against her wet cunt and beginning to rock her hips against him.

But Peter pulled his knee away and she whimpered, breaking the kiss for a moment before she felt one of his hands trail under her dress, finding her thong.

"You're soaked", Peter teased, she shuddered as Peter ran a finger down her slit. "I bet I could slid right in."

As if that was his cue, Peter slid a finger into her, Y/N let her head fall into Peter's chest as he slowly began to pump his finger in her.

"Don't tease", she moaned as she brought his face down to hers.

What's your size? (Size) Add, subtract, divide ('vide) Daddy don't throw no curves (curves) Hold up, I'm goin' wide (wide) We could just start at ten (ten) Then we can go to five (five) I don't play with my pen (pen) I mean what I write

She connected their lips again as Peter slid another finger into, fingering her harder now as he began to rub her clit in tight circles. Y/N cried out at the sensations as she rocked her hips in time with Peter's movements.

Peter began to trail kisses down her neck as her eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth falling open as pants escaped her mouth.

"Fuck you're beautiful", Peter said as he quickened his fingers. "Come on, Y/N, cum on me."

Y/N felt like she was in the Twilight Zone right now, but fuck it, she was enjoying it with the way Peter was fingering her. She could feel that tight knot building in her as Peter's fingers reached an area in her that made her nearly tear up in pleasure, his fingers practically massaging it as she began to tug on his hair as her toes began to curl.

"P-Peter", she panted, "gonna...cum..."

She saw Peter grin in satisfaction as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. She felt breathless and fuzzy as Peter fingered her through it before she whimpered at the overstimulation, which Peter pulled his fingers out.

"Still think I should find someone my own age?" Peter teased, she narrowed her eyes as she panted.

Peter slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them.

"I always knew you'd taste sweet", Peter said as she reached for his belt buckle.

Peter brought a hand up, squishing her cheeks together and forcing her lips into a pout; he pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips as she successfully managed to get unzip Peter's slacks, slipping her hand inside to begin to tease the younger man in front of her.

"Now, you wanna be a tease?" Peter asked as he began to move her to one of the many sinks in the bathroom.

I just can't help but be sexual (whoa) Tell me your schedule (yeah) I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will) I do what I can to get you off (I will)

Peter had gotten her on the sink, legs spread and her thong stuffed in one of his pockets as he began to rock into her. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she felt Peter hike up her leg on him higher, sending him into deeper territory and brushing up against her G-spot as he began to rub her clit in time with his rocking.

"P-Peter", she slurred, eyes beginning to water from pleasure.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so good", Peter groaned as he gripped the sink below her.

His thrusts becoming rougher as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Might just fuck him with my makeup on (I will) Eat it like I need an apron on (yeah, ay) Eat it 'til I need to change my thong (yeah, ay) We could do it to your favorite song (yeah, ay)

Her makeup was ruined, she was sure of it from the amount of kissing, sweat and tears. Y/N shivered as Peter bite down on a part of her neck, making her clench around her even tighter and causing him to let out more groans of pleasure, his hips slapping into her even rougher.

The sound of skin slapping skin rung in bathroom, echoing off the walls as she brought Peter's face back to her own, smashing their lips together as she squealed when her second orgasm hit her, her legs shaking and back arching.

You're exciting, boy, come find me Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me" Fuck that feeling both us fighting Could he try me? (Yeah) mmm, most likely

She had pushed Peter onto one of the toilets in the bathroom, his dick red and leaking when she had straddled him before sinking down onto him. Y/N shivered as she felt Peter stretching her out again and she knew she was going to be feeling him the next day as she moaned and threw her head back at the delicious stretch his cock gave her cunt again.

Peter gripped her hips before grabbing her ass and smacking it, she pulled her face towards his, connecting their lips as she begun to rock her hips.

Oh, wait, you a fan of the magic? Poof, pussy like an Alakazam (yeah) I heard from a friend of a friend That that dick was a ten out of ten

She could someone knocking on the door, but she could care less right with Peter buried so deep inside her as his hands that gripped her hips so tightly began to help rock her.

Baby, I need to know, mmm

With a groan, Y/N felt her head pounding as an alarm was ringing; she buried her face in her pill-- wait, her pillow was normally soft, not firm and warm.

"Sorry, I forgot to turn that off", someone said in a rough voice.

Opening her eyes quickly, Y/N quickly found that she hadn't made it to her room; the events of last night quickly rushing back to her as she remembered everything.

Looking up, she saw that was indeed in Peter's bed, he was shirtless and his muscles bulging as he reached across to turn off his phone alarm. She could remember now stumbling back to Peter's room for round whatever, she could not remember how many times they had already had sex before they made it to his room.

It was then that she realized she must be back at his fraternity and she groaned inwardly.

But she remember she was lucky she was consistent with her birth control now that she thought about it with the amount of times she let Peter cum in her last night.

Rubbing her eyes as she sat up, Y/N contemplated her life decisions and her mind beginning to try and form some kind of plan of doing the walk of shame when Peter plopped down back into the bed.

"You wanna go get breakfast?"

[plussizefantasia]

Shaggy and Velma

Flufftober Day 25: Costume Party

Peter Parker x f!reader

Word Count 1.0k

AN: I have officially finished writing all of my prompts for Flufftober, I'll be proofreading the last few before I post them. The problem is, I've really enjoyed all the writing I've been doing and how much everyone has liked my stories. So I want to ask for some requests that I can write after my short break! If you could send a request that would be amazing. As always, Reblogs and Feedback are really appreciated, and I'll see y'all tomorrow!

divider credit @royallaesthetics

“I am not wearing that.” You deadpanned at Peter who was smiling toothily at you. In his hands, he held one of those awful foam costumes, a matching set. “I am not wearing a piece of foam that makes me look like jelly on toast, not to a party.” You didn’t think that gaveling a couple's costume was a bad idea you thought it might be fun but you drew the line at food.

“C’mon Babe, match with me.” He encoded his strongest pair of puppy dog eyes and aimed them right at you.

“I will match with you, just not as PB and J” you laughed. “What about Shaggy and Velma.”

“Who would be who?” He asked.

“We’ll you’re the smart one so you’ll probably be Velma and I look good in green so I’ll be shaggy.” You shrugged.

“Do they even make male Velma costumes?” Peter began scanning the store for a gender-bent version of the character. 

“Probably not but we could always go to the thrift store.” You suggested

And so you did, two hours and the thrift shops later you had your costumes for the costume party on the NYC campus that your roommate had invited you to.

Parties weren’t your thing but when you had told Peter about it, he had gotten excited. “I’ve never been to a college party, or a Halloween party, or any kind of party that wasn’t a birthday party.” So you cast aside your desire for a cozy night in with your boyfriend, watching movies in spooky pajamas and eating candy that you go from the gas station. You went costume shopping with your dork and basked in the joy that radiated from him all day.

Now, the two of you were about a block away from the party, you’d decided to walk, partially because you didn’t have a car and partially because you wanted to be able to check out other people’s costumes on the way. “Do you think people will know who we are?” Peter asked you. You looked down at yourself, wearing a short corduroy mini skirt and a green top tucked into the waistband, along with a pair of old brown dress shoes you usually saved for special and formal occasions. Then your gaze landed on Peter, you were surprised that you had found the orange turtleneck right away but it fit him well. He also wore a pair of red jeans that you had to force him into a pair of glasses that you popped the lenses out of.

“I’m sure baby, we’re killing it right now.”

“We are, aren’t we?” Peters's voice got soft and he looked at you. He placed a kiss on your temple and kept walking. 

When you arrived at the warehouse the party was at, it was obvious that most of the people there were not in college. Party crashes weren’t rare, but it did mean that Peter would need to keep a close eye on you. This many strangers in one place was bound to be trouble. You had made him promise that he wouldn’t be Spider-Man tonight, that was your condition for going to the party at all.

“I’m not going if you’re going to have to race out of there right away and leave me there.” He agreed it was fair after all, you hadn’t wanted to go, so leaving you alone wasn’t the nicest thing he could do.

So instead, he danced with you, he held you close and he laughed with you when you saw funny costumes. Multiple people complimented you on the outfits you were wearing and every time it happened you watched Peter perk up just a little bit.

As the night wore on, you got a little sloppier, not drunk. You wouldn’t get wasted when you were so keenly aware of how many people you didn’t know and how far from home you were. But you were loose and Peter wasn’t. It’s not like he didn’t have anything to drink, he just metabolized it way too fast.

By three a.m. the party still hadn’t wound down, but as Peter watched you yawn and lean on him a little more than usual he decided that it was time to go.

“Wanna go home, babe? Put in our PJs and watch a movie?” You eagerly nodded and grabbed onto his hand. 

It wasn’t easy getting you home, you seemed to trip on every little thing and had a serious case of the giggles but eventually the two of you made it back to his apartment. Peter helped you up the stairs and in past his door. When your eyes landed on his couch you groaned pleasantly and flopped down onto it. Burying your head in the throw pillows you had bought.

“C’mon babe, we gotta brush our teeth and change into PJs”

“Don’t wanna, comfortable”

“I know babe, but you’ll be mad at me tomorrow for not making you do some sort of routine.”

Even tipsy you knew that you would want to take off your makeup before you went to bed, so even though you groaned and whined the whole time, you let Peter help you take your makeup off, and brush your teeth and hair. 

Peter gently guided you into the bedroom where he pulled out the Halloween PJs you had bought for the two of you before you knew that you were going to the party. He helped you into them, his eyes never starting from your face as he did.

When all your routines were done and you were ready for bed, Peter pulled you to his side and kissed your head like he always did before you fell asleep.

“Thank you for coming with me Shaggy,” you laughed.

“You’re welcome, Velma” was your deeply sleepy response, as soon as the words left your mouth, your eyes shut and you fell asleep immediately.

[spider-stark]

Anti-Hero // Hero x Villain Trope // pt. 2 //

Previous Part

Summary - Reader and Peter are both living double lives. Spider-Man is considered a national hero, while the reader is viewed as a criminal. In their personal lives, they're both head over heels for one another, their friendship finally blossoming into something more. But as vigilantes? It's complicated

Warnings - Blood, mentions of kidnapping/abuse, knife violence,

Word Count - 4.6k

Your foot bounced against the footrest of the barstool you were sat in, your patience wearing thinner and thinner with each passing minute. Another glance at your phone as it laid face up on the counter, confirming that it had now been twenty-five minutes past when you and Peter were supposed to meet. 

Five more minutes, you told yourself, only five. 

Peter Pan’s doorbell chimed as soon as the thought crossed your mind, as if Peter knew that you were getting painfully close to assuming that he had ditched you. 

“Y/n!” He sounded like he had run several blocks just to get here, gasping for breath as he jogged over to where you sat. Your foot stilled at the sight of him, the anxiety of being stood-up immediately dissipating. 

He slid onto the stool beside you, still struggling to steady his breathing. You grinned at him, and the sight only made his lungs feel tighter. “You’re late, Parker.” 

A knowing tone, yet so light and playful, and it somehow held the power to wash away all the defeats he had faced today. It was one of the things Peter loved most about you, the way that you could melt all of his stress away, without even lifting a finger. 

“I’m sorry.” He choked the apology out between labored breaths, his body finally settling enough to let him try to speak. 

While Peter hadn’t run several blocks to get here, he did frantically swing a few dozen blocks, his muscles screaming out in pain the entire time. He was thankful that the annoying girl from earlier had been telling the truth when she said he would recover from the toxin, but he only managed to regain control over his motor skills with enough time to change clothes and come straight to Peter Pan’s to meet you. 

She also could have mentioned that he would feel like he got hit by a bus afterwards. 

“I started to think you were standing me up.” You admitted. 

“Never!” Peter blurted the word out, squinting slightly under the fluorescent lights that only added to the pounding in his head. “Today just felt kind of… paralyzing, I guess.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at his own pun, knowing it would fly right over your head. “Had a hard time getting myself moving.” 

Concern suddenly washed over your features, brows pulling together. “Do you feel sick or something?” 

You didn’t wait for his answer, leaning forwards on your stool and placing the back of your hand against his forehead. The sudden contact had a blush creeping up his neck, his face beginning to turn red. “You do feel a bit warm.” You hummed with a frown. “You should’ve texted me if you didn’t feel good, we could’ve rescheduled.” 

“No!” Another too-quick response, only deepening the crimson shade now painting his cheeks.“I feel great, promise.” He awkwardly cleared his throat, trying to sound a little less, well, excitable. “Just a rough day, ya know? Nothing worth rescheduling over! But I’m still really sorry that I’m late.” 

Peter already wanted nothing more than to throw that sorry criminal in jail, if not for being a thief than for attempting to ruin his plans with you. God, they knew just how to get under his skin. He tried to shake the thoughts of them from his mind, wanting to focus entirely on you, his mind free of irritating distractions. 

Today might have kicked his ass, but there was no way he would miss out on coming to see you. He struggled to make time for ‘Peter Parker’ things while managing to balance his duties as Spider-Man, but when it came to you? He would gladly shove Spider-Man to the side when possible. 

“I get it.” You reassured him, a soft smile that had his heart melting. “My day wasn’t that great either, but that’s just how it goes sometimes, yeah?” 

It really hasn't been a great day for you. Getting away from Spider-Man was the only thing that had gone right today. The job you were on earlier when Spidey had caught up to you ended up being a total bust after faulty intel led to your target getting away before you could even make a move. It threw things off for you—left you without a profit and forced you to evaluate your sources. 

“Well,” you cleared the brief silence between the two of you, “do you wanna get started?” 

Peter only stared at you, those beautiful brown eyes filled with little other than complete confusion as his mind lagged behind. You giggled at how dumbfounded he looked, and while he was slightly embarrassed, he also savored the sound of your laugh. 

“On studying.” You clarified with your index finger tapping against the garishly colored chemistry textbook laid on the counter. “Our test is next week and I really don’t wanna fail Mr. Harrington’s class.” 

Peter’s mouth formed a perfect O shape, his head nodding along as you reminded him of the reason why the two of you were meeting up today. Truth be told, he had been purposely letting himself forget about the ‘study’ part of your study date. 

“Oh, yeah.” He shook his head a bit, keeping his gaze focused on the coffee-stained countertop in hopes that you wouldn’t see that he was still blushing. “Sorry, I’m still not all here yet.” 

“We can still reschedule, ya know? If you’re just not feeling up to this right now.” You hesitantly reminded him, silently hoping that he would say no, that he would insist that he stay. It had been days since the two of you made these plans, and you had been looking forward to spending time with him. 

“No, really, I’m fine!” Peter answered your silent pleading, adding a smile. “I think we need to be on page 279.” 

You nodded in response, returning the expression before moving to flick through the pages of the book. 

To be honest, Peter really couldn’t comprehend why you needed his help to pass Harrington’s class. In nearly every other subject you were at the top of your class, serving as one of his biggest academic competitors at Midtown. What he didn’t know, however, was that the only reason you needed his help was because of certain distractions in class. 

Chemistry was the only class the two of you had together, and unfortunately that meant that the majority of it was spent with you staring at the back of Peter’s head and barely listening to a word Mr. Harrington said (too busy daydreaming about what it would be like to run your fingers through his gorgeous wavy hair). Your little crush had ultimately led to you just barely passing the class, which had turned out to be quite convenient, as it served as an excuse to ask Peter for help and get the chance to hangout with him outside of school. 

“Oh c’monnn.” You groaned as you examined the page, immediately filled with dread when you read scientific notation printed in big bold letters. 

“I promise it’s really not that hard!” Peter tried to assure you, hiding his amusement at your dramatic reaction as you pressed your forehead against the book, little sounds of protests still falling from your mouth. “You’ve got this, mkay? I’ve got full faith in you.” 

“As sweet as that is, Parker,” your close proximity to the paper muffled your speech as you refused to face him, “math is actually my arch-nemesis. I’m horrible at it.” 

Besides Spider-Man, you jokingly thought to yourself. 

“It’s not nearly as bad as it sounds though!” Peter continued to make promises that did little to ease your dread. “Let’s just give it a try.” 

You turned your head to the side just a bit, cheek still flush against the book as you looked over at him from the corner of your eye. “Do I even need to know how to do this? Like, if I don’t pursue a career in chemistry, will I ever need to actually understand scientific notation?” 

“Yeah, probably.” 

“Give me an example.” 

“I don’t know, what if you wanna figure out how many drops of water are in a river? You’d need scientific notation.” 

You furrowed your brows at him, although still amused by the response. “Why would I ever wanna know that?” 

Peter’s shoulders lifted into a shrug, an action he swiftly regretted as a burning pain coursed through his forearm, a reminder of the wound he sustained earlier that hadn’t quite healed yet. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“Whoa.” You quickly straighten your posture, staring at him cautiously. “Are you good?” 

He forced out a quiet mhm sound as he bit down on the inside of his cheek, desperately hoping the feeling would subside. Peter wasn’t used to his healing abilities being so impaired, yet another side effect of the toxin, and he had forgotten just how much it hurt to be injured. 

“Are you sure?” You asked again, clearly not convinced by his less-than-impressive attempt at hiding his discomfort. “Is it your shoulder or back or something?” 

Peter felt your hand coming towards him, his Spider-senses snapping him out of his current agony as you hovered just inches above the covered wound. He reached out and grabbed your wrist so suddenly that it made you gasp, shocked by how fast he had moved. 

“Sorry.” He apologized, immediately loosening his grip. Your eyes remained wide, the shock still evident alongside a bit of suspicion. “I think I pulled something in my shoulder the other day and it’s still sorta tender to touch, ya know?” 

He already felt guilty for the lie, but it was the best he could come up with to ensure you wouldn’t try to reach for him again. Coming up with lies was already difficult for him, and he had no clue how he’d be able to craft a story for how he ended up with a giant slice taken out of his arm if you found out. 

“You really have the worst luck, don’t you?” You mused, your hand retreating back to your lap as you spoke. “I still have trouble believing that last week you accidentally ran into that streetlight and gave yourself a black eye!” 

Peter laughed nervously, thinking back to the moment. Funny enough, he hadn’t really been lying about that one. Sure, he had been swinging and not running, but he did hit a streetlight. “What can I say? I’m just not the most coordinated.” He fidgeted in his seat, an action you equated to embarrassment. 

In reality, the action had been fueled by anxiety. There had been too many close calls lately, too many instances where he had to make up an excuse for a bruise or a cut or whatever else, especially with the new girl running around. He was running out of lies to tell, and more than that, he was getting tired of having to lie. 

“Well at least try and be more careful, alright?” You teased him, though your concern for him was still evident. While he might’ve hated lying about his injuries, he did quite enjoy the way you’d dote over him whenever you’d discover a new one, always desperate for your affection in whatever way he could receive it. “If I’m gonna pass chemistry then I’m gonna need my tutor in one piece!” 

Peter grinned, returning your teasing tone, “If you’re gonna pass chemistry then you’re gonna need to learn scientific notation.” 

You jutted your bottom lip out in a pout, a low groan following suit. “Fine.” You reached for the book, sliding it closer to the two of you while scooting your stool a bit closer to Peter’s. “But you owe me.” 

“I owe you?” He shot you a bewildered stare, struggling not to laugh. 

You nodded. “Mhm.” 

“I’m the one helping you pass chemistry.” He noted, shifting his index finger from himself to you as he spoke. “So technically wouldn’t you be the one that owes me?”  

“Nope. Pretty sure I was right. You owe me.” You feigned complete seriousness, mocking him by pointing your finger in his direction. 

He decided to play along, electing to ignore the fact that you’re just procrastinating studying. “Okay, fine. So what do I owe you?” 

You paused for a moment, a mischievous look appearing on your face, causing Peter to raise a brow at you. “A date.” You declared confidently, taking advantage of the opportunity. “A real one. No school stuff or anything.” 

Peter felt his heart skip in his chest. 

“Deal.” 

Maybe learning scientific notation was worth it.  

Coming to Queens was a risky move, one that you didn’t like to make often. It was one of two places in the city that you liked to avoid—the other being Hell’s Kitchen—in an attempt to try and avoid running into anyone with devil horns or spiderwebs. 

Luckily, your line of work typically kept you out of the ‘problem’ areas of the city. The majority of your targets were New York's wealthiest, the kind of people that wouldn’t so much as dream of stepping foot outside of Manhattan. 

You much preferred meeting them in their own territory, finding it all the more enjoyable to toy with them in the places where they felt safest. But, sometimes, that just wasn’t a possibility for one reason or another. Despite that, bringing your business into Spider-Man’s self proclaimed home territory was always a dangerous move. 

In this case, though, it was unavoidable. 

For months you had kept a close eye on councilman Rupert Fletcher, a man that many others in your circle had tried to go after, only to fail time after time. At first, you struggled to understand how so many accomplished thieves had somehow been stumped on such a painfully average man. 

Despite Fletcher's status as a councilman, he was of little importance, his wealth being the only thing to put a target on his back. On the surface, he lived a rather average life of a man in his position. 

He owned a sizable penthouse on the Upper East Side that he shared with his wife and their french bulldog. A quick peek at his schedule revealed that his weekdays were typically spent in the office, the deviation being an occasional conference. His weekends were always the same, a trip to the country club in Spring Valley to decompress and unwind. 

There were sizable gaps in his schedule, several windows of time where his apartment was left unoccupied, with his weekend trips to the country club and his wife’s recent trip back to her home country for family matters—essentially meaning that Rupert Fletcher was every thief’s wet dream. Yet, even the craftiest of them all came out empty handed, claiming the man’s home was unusually bare. There was nothing of much importance in it, no safes filled with cash, no lavish jewelry. It was painfully basic, appearing as little more than a model home. Every one that dared to go after him all left the same: empty handed. 

You started to think you hit a dead end with him, after questioning every single person in your circle, desperate to dig up something on him. That is until a tiny girl by the name of Red made an offhand comment, one she clearly thought was of little importance. 

“The best I got out of it was this Dukes of Hazzard keychain,” she flashed a disturbing grin, the street lights illuminating the silver caps on her teeth, “better than nothin, right?” 

It was better than nothing. A lot better. 

While the keychain itself was rather stupid and not something you cared about, there had been a dingy key dangling off of it, a tag attached that read: StorageMart #813. At first you considered the thought that it had belonged to Red, but given the fact that a pristine Bugatti key hung alongside it, you quickly decided that it must’ve been Fletchers. 

That same night, you broke into the office of the StorageMart that night, combing through their records until you found payment receipts for unit 813. It hadn’t shocked you when you saw it was purchased under a different last name: Petrov. You recognized it as his wife’s maiden name, a fact learned through your prior research on him. With confirmation that it was his unit, you wasted no time with swiping a key from the utility office and heading straight for the unit. 

Its contents were a mystery to you, your imagination running wild. What could it be? Diamonds? Gold bars? A Dukes of Hazzard boxset? You weren’t sure, and truthfully, you didn’t care all that much as long as it was something of value. You didn’t know what he was hiding in the unit, but what you did know was that Rupert Fletcher was a bad man, and he deserved to pay for it. 

And discovering what he had worked so hard to keep secret only cemented that fact. 

The first thing you saw was a mattress laid out on the cold cement floor, a tattered blanket with the thickness of a sheet of newspaper spread across it. Beside it was a dingy orange bucket, the scent of what was inside practically overwhelming your senses entirely. You almost considered slamming the door shut, almost decided to cut your losses and get out of there before you emptied the contents of your stomach on the floor and left evidence of your presence. 

But then, you heard it. A faint voice, small and fragile, the words in a language you didn’t know. You didn’t need to understand what she said to know who she was, though, to know that you had finally caught Fletcher in his biggest crime of all. 

A bit of gossip tends to go a long way. It took a bit of work to find out where the women in Fletcher’s wife’s inner circle like to hang out, but it turned out to be well worth the struggle as all of them sat amongst themselves at lunch and chatted about how she had been threatening divorce months prior, and their theories of what he had done to her upon finding out, entirely unaware of the listening ear just a table over. A bit more digging led to gaining even more intel on Fletcher’s past tumultuous relationships, only furthering the suspicions. 

“Ms. Petrov?” You purposely opted to avoid use of her married name, hoping that it would indicate to her that you were there to help, not to cause further harm. 

The woman was emaciated and looked as if she were just days away from death, and you struggled to hide your shock. “I’m gonna get you out of here, alright?” A promise you intended on keeping. 

A huge part of you wanted to take the story public, to take pictures of the unit before he could destroy any evidence she was here and send it straight to the Daily Bugle. Jameson was an asshole, but he was never one to miss out on a good story. But, despite your desire to see Fletcher’s mugshot on the news, you bit your tongue. 

It wasn’t your story to share. And, even if Petrov had wanted to come clean and expose him to the world, men like Fletcher were rarely forced to deal with the consequences of what they’d done. He was too wealthy, too well-known, too powerful. 

Which was exactly why you were back here in Queens, at the same shabby StorageMart you had pulled Fletcher’s wife from just a few days ago. She was safe, staying in a women's shelter upstate, already beginning to plan her trip back home where she would be away from Fletcher for good. There was just one thing she needed before she could make her escape. 

“Thanks Rupey.” You sang over your shoulder, lazily wiping the ruby stained blade against your pants, “It was a pleasure doing business with ya.” 

He coughed a few obscenities in your direction, but made no move towards you as you headed towards the door of unit 813, too weak to move from where he laid on the floor. Everyone liked to put on a good show at the end, run their mouth just enough to make themselves feel like they put up a fight. You usually ignored it. Usually. 

 “How much did you take?” He spat in your direction, your footsteps falling silent as you paused by the door. 

You didn’t like his tone, the arrogance in his voice, his domineering attitude. You were a bit shocked that he had any snide remarks left in him, and even more shocked that he could even form words after you knocked two of his teeth loose. 

“I took what I needed.” You assured him, your own tone calm and collected in comparison to his. “And then some. Gotta make a profit in this business somehow, Rupe.” 

His wife had told you he would be here tonight, promised that he came by every other day just to chuck some food in her direction and try to convince her to reconsider her decision to leave him. Waiting for him was easy, since she said that Fletcher liked to stick to a tight schedule, and incapacitating him was even easier. 

A quick slash to the forehead, just a half an inch above his brows. It was the easiest way to stun someone, there were enough capillaries in the forehead to cause profuse bleeding that would eventually impair their vision, making it even easier to keep control over the situation. Immobilizing him wasn’t hard either, a quick jab to his right leg, maybe two or so inches deep. Deep enough that the average person wouldn’t be able to keep their weight on it without passing out from the pain, but nowhere deep enough that he would bleed out from the wound. 

After that, it was as easy and slipping his phone out of his pocket, forcing him to use touch-ID to get into his bank account (threatening to cut off someone's thumb makes it quite easy to get them to follow instructions) and then transferring a couple hundred thousand dollars to an untraceable bank account you had a friend set up for his wife. Fletcher had been the one to ruin her life and damn near kill her, it was only fair that he was the one to pay for her new one, especially if that was the only justice she’d ever get. 

“They’re gonna find you–” Fletcher swore, his strained voice growing louder as you moved to open the door, “I have cameras set up in here! There’s cameras all over this fucking property! The cops are gonna find you!” 

You gave him a quick glance over your shoulder, your mask still secured over your face, confident that the NYPD would find nothing that could trace back to you. Not any more than they already had, that is. “You’re not gonna tell them shit.” You laughed at him, rolling your eyes, “You think I wasn’t smart enough to hack into your stupid security cameras and duplicate the footage? I have hours of it, Fletcher. Hours of you torturing your wife, keeping her caged up in here like some sort of animal.” He didn’t respond, barely moved a muscle as his face paled. “You tell a single soul what happened here tonight, and I’ll send the footage off to every news station in New York. Got it?” 

You didn’t need to wait for confirmation, aware that men like Fletcher would do anything to avoid bad press. He would make up a story, the same way all of them did. A mugging gone wrong or some stupid lie, anything to paint himself the victim and keep his wrongdoings away from the public. You looked forward, savoring the feeling of the cold Winter air kissing your skin as you let the door slam shut behind you, relaxation washing over you at the thought of finally getting to go home. 

“Do I wanna know what you were doing in there?” 

Well, so much for relaxation. 

You glanced up, immediately noticing Spider-Boy crouched on the unit across from 813. “What are you even doing here?” You asked him, an exasperated groan following after. “Like, seriously, do you have a tracker on me or something? I’m gonna get you one of those little collars with a bell on it, the kind for cats, ya know? That way you at least can’t sneak up on me.” 

Spider-Man narrowed his eyes at you, and your lip curled in response. You didn’t like the way the whites of his mask moved to match his expressions, finding it a bit unnerving. “What were you doing?” He asked again, ignoring your previous sarcastic remarks. 

“Why don’t you go look for yourself?” You jutted your thumb over your shoulder, pointing towards the unit door where Fletcher’s groans of pain should still be faintly heard. “Cause I’m a bit tired from doing your job and all, so I’d rather skip the small talk tonight and head home.” 

He scoffed, still perched atop the building, staring down at you. “Doing my job?” 

You nodded. “Uh, yeah. Did I stutter or something?” 

“How were you doing my job?” He rephrased his question, annoyed by your constant habit of avoidance. 

“Do your own research for once, Spider-Kid.” You told him lazily, shaking your head as you began to continue your walk towards the exit gates of the StorageMart. “Maybe then you’ll realize we aren’t quite as different as you think.” 

The nickname annoyed Peter, but he tried to shake it off, aware that it was just another way you tried to get under his skin and throw him off. He swiftly jumped from the building, landing directly in your path to keep you from leaving. Before his feet even touched the ground you already had a knife drawn, as if you had predicted his movement. 

“While I commend you for wanting to stop me,” you spoke slowly, the tip of your blade pointed at his throat—it was an empty threat, as you knew that you would never strike what would most certainly be a fatal blow against him, although he didn’t know that and chose to keep a safe enough distance. “There’s a man in there that’s in desperate need of medical attention. I suggest you run off to be a hero and get him to a hospital.” 

Peter’s eyes shifted towards the unit, his amplified hearing allowing him to hear Fletcher’s heartbeat from where he stood. You were right; and while he didn’t sound like he was on the verge of death, he needed a hospital, and a fight with you was one he wasn’t confident he would win—not quick enough, at least, to justify leaving a wounded man to suffer. 

“We’re very different.” He promised you, taking a step back to show that he was backing down. To show that he was a hero, that he would prioritize a civilian's life over stroking his own ego by attempting to capture you right now. The two of you were nothing alike—Peter worked to protect this city, locking criminals up and fighting alongside the Avengers. And you? “You’re a villain.” 

You snorted at his dramatic choice of words, still armed and prepared to strike if he made a move towards you. He didn’t, though, taking a few more steps backwards towards Fletcher’s unit.

“Villain’s such a harsh word.” You clicked your tongue, chastising him, making his blood boil as he had to use all the restraint in his body to prevent himself from going after you as you readied yourself to dart for the exit. 

“I prefer anti-hero.”

tag list: @llovergirlll @hpchosen1 @vintageoldfashion

[wxckedwxrld]

Marvel: Peter Parker

Imagines

* - smut ^ - angst • - fluff

PSA: these writings ARE NOT MINE. This is a list of fanfiction I have read during august and sept. All credit goes to the original and rightful writers

masterlist

such a gentleman

• 7 minutes

• Ornithology

^ obedience [pt.1]

^• disobedience [pt.2]

•Under the Mistletoe

^ Too

•^fine line [ch. 1] [ch.2] [ch.3] [ch.4] [ch.5]

•^ where we start again [ch.1] [ch.2] [ch.3] [ch.4] [ch.5] [ch.6] [ch.7] [ch.8] [ch.9]

• how to kiss

* no knock knocks

[bowieandqueen11]

Tobey!Peter Parker Dating A Plus Size Reader Would Include...

Request: Hello! I know I sent requests for "random request go!" so feel free to ignore me. I was just wondering - I was reading again your Spider-Man stuff (cause it is FANTASTIC <3 ) and I saw that in your note to "Andrew!Peter x Plus Size!Reader" you said that if anybody would ever want to, you'd be willing to write Tobey!Peter x Plus Size!Reader too. I was wondering if that's still the case. Cause if yes, I'd love to see it one day! No pressure of course, you can skip it if you want! Have a great day!

Oh my gosh lovely of course I will thank you so much, I didn't think anyone actually read those notes aha but I'm so happy you did!! Between Across the Spiderverse (which I still haven't seen yet I'm so slow!) and the Insomniac Spiderman trailer I am being well fed :)

Warning: mentions of blood/injury!

(I do not own Spider-Man or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @fmribeiro01.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

I'm not joking even THINKING about this as a concept is making me squeal because like?? Tobey Peter?? Omg. Absolutely adores you. 24/7, non stop heart eyes motherfcker. Be ready for him to give you looks of such gut wrenching love and vulnerability that you'll just want to squish his cheeks together and kiss his forehead like the puppy he is.

You were 100% Peter's childhood crush, no question asked. You were always invited around to Peter's birthday parties, where the two of you would be thick as thieves for the whole night. Even poor exasperated Harry would find it oddly adorable when it was time to give Petey his cake, and he would bashfully pull out the chair beside him at the table for you to scoot onto. He thought he was so slick, bless his heart, when he reached over to fix your wonky party hat with his tiny shaking fingers, or shyly looked over at the rim of uneven frosting towards you when Aunt May carried out the homemade cake and told him to make a wish. You were always the last one to be picked up, despite living right next door: Ben, the sly old fox, could see how enamoured Peter was. How he had the firmest grip he had ever seen his nephew squeeze out around your arm, and how Peter stood holding the present you had given him in his other hand, not even noticing it because he was too busy fervently nodding and being strung along by every word you would say.

Ben would stall your parents at the door, blocking the way in by pretending to lean on his elbow, and spouting off about whether he was going to paint the living room a periwinkle or an egg shell blue. When your parents finally started to get impatient, you kissed Peter on the side of his cheek and left with a big wave, not really noticing the way he was standing stock-still, his fingers tentatively touching the side of his face and his mouth agape, blubbering like a blow fish. May has never seen him run so fast up the staircase, but Peter's so desperate to curl up alone under his duvet and thank whatever he can think of for making his wish come true, touching the wet imprint of your lips with a revered awe. Eventually, his giggling gets so loud during the night, that Ben has to come out and close over his door so he and May can get at least a little sleep.

A lot of your teenage years is spent with you jumping over your chain link fence in the middle of the night to meet a very anxious looking Peter, whose face quickly grows into a bright smile when he pulls the latest edition of the comic series you've been share-reading out from behind his back. Sitting on the cold tile by his garage, the night would slowly weave diamond dust through the sky, and sparkling joy through the irises of Peter's eye as the two of you stuck your heads together and poured over the pages. Every so often he would have to blink away, pretending he was fixing his glasses because you would catch the side-eye look he was giving you.

By the end of the night, you've fallen asleep, slobbering onto Peter's shoulder. He hasn't moved an inch: as still as marble, and doing his best to hold his breath so he doesn't rustle you, and so he can memorise the way your gratifying weight feels against the side of his shoulder. So he can imprint into his mind how tender your skin feels against his burning neck. It's only when Aunt May comes out to shake the two of you awake from the school bus that he runs into the kitchen all flustered. He grabs his backpack, and says goodbye, but refuses to change his jumper because he can still feel your imprint against the coarse wool.

From time to time that day, you'll peer round the door of your locker to catch him leaning into his, so giddy he's almost vibrating on the spot, which is probably why he's so distracted he bangs his head on the metal top of his own locker door oops.

Lunch that afternoon is even worse! Sitting diagonal across from Peter, you slide into the table next to an already frustrated looking Harry, whose kicking Pete's feet under the table and making incredibly unsubtle raised eyebrow points your way. He's so sick of the way his best friend will spend every minute of his time with you just staring: peering over his fruit pot, blabbering incoherently to himself with ruddy cheeks when he passes you the salt and your pinkie fingers brush, looking at your reflection in his spoon, pretending to stretch his arms and yawn just so he can 'look around the room', which also just so happens to be only the part that you're sitting in. He just wants his friend to be happy, and honestly, he's kind of dumbstruck that the two of you aren't together already, considering his eyes light up like gold-struck dawn every time he sees you.

It's only when Flash Thompson passes by and knocks Peter's elbow out from under him that he finally stops staring over at you. Mainly because his eyes are too busy slamming into his lunch tray, and breaking the bridge of his glasses down hard against his nose. The spell you wisp around his heart is finally broken when the blood starts gushing down his nose, and you have to half-carry him to the medical office. He spends 50% of the time walking there apologising to you, and the other 50% of the time is spent trying to stop his fingers from clenching into your arm. You've tucked him into your side, holding half his torso against you so he can spend most of his effort on pinching his nose, but he doesn't even care that he's swallowing blood anymore, he's so focused on how close he's pressed up against you. The feeling only grows more fervent, more needy, until he's twitching his thighs against the nurse's table to try and get himself to calm down, when you stay with him for the rest of the period to try and wipe some of the blood away. The way you're so close to his lips, the way that your gentle fingers are dabbing so close to his mouth that he can feel his rushing breath brush against your hairs is making him go cross-eyed with how much he's trying to focus on you.

'You know...', you start after a minute, biting your bottom lip nervously as you continued to dab at peter's nostril. 'I have eyes, Petey.'

'I-I know that, silly', he says, his breath coming out in a confused gasp. 'Me too!'

'I- I know you've been looking at me. Because I've been looking at you, too.'

His heart seems to be slamming into the caged cavity of his ribs, and yet everything seems to simultaneously be standing still: caught in a hazy, gliding, wavering dream as you slowly... ever so slowly drop the cloth into the sink, and break through the few inches between the two of you to press your lips against his top one.

For a moment, Peter is so shocked all he can do is widen his eyes, not even processing that the thing he's spent every moment of his waking and sleeping life wishing for ever since he was a child was happening right now. He tries really hard to stop his whole body from shaking, as his silky lashes finally falter shut against the top of your cheeks and he tries to focus his whole attention on the way your plush lip seems to press so perfectly against his own. After a few seconds though, when he hears the clattering of trays fall to the floor and the darkness he was letting himself fall willingly down into seems a little harder to blink out of, he realises the sound was him.

You're worried you've upset him, or stepped too far, or misconstrued his intentions when Peter falls backwards off you, but that's quickly replaced by frantic concern when he starts sliding to the floor. Thankfully, your reflexes are almost as good as his, and you're quick to wrap your arm around his back and cradle his head against your breastbone before he can slam his head against the floor again. He has to spend the rest of the day lying in the office's bed waiting until Uncle Ben can pick him up, but it was completely worth it. As he gazes up at the inane, plastered ceiling, suddenly everything else in life seemed so silly and pointless. All he cared about was rubbing his pointer finger over the wet patch of your saliva still dotted against his bottom lip, his eyes filled with a million bursting stars as he saw beyond the ceiling and into the skies, thanking it for making his birthday wish come true.

The two of you move into his crumby apartment after high school, and honestly? It's the happiest time in Peter's life. Sure, it may be small, and the walls may be flaky and they may shake every time a train rolls past the tracks outside, but every time he comes home to them he's greeted by the memories of the two of you laying against them like when you were kids, falling asleep against each other's heads as you read into the night. Sure, Ditkovich may hound the two of you constantly for rent, and the afternoons may be drowned out by the sound of his friends playing poker a couple of doors over, but they were so easy to forget in the evenings when you turned on your slightly dented radio and made a flustered Peter dance with you across the room, not stopping until you had him held tightly in your arms and he was so embarrassed with his two left feet that he was hiding his head in the curve of your luscious neck.

And sure, you may have picked up pretty quickly that Peter was Spiderman, considering he keeps hopping out the balcony at random hours and leaves his suit sometimes crumpled at the bottom of the closet, but you love him. And he adores you more than anything any universe could throw at him. So life, for the most part, is good.

Honestly, it's so cosy living with him?? Peter literally has spider strength, so he adores it when you lie on top of him in your bed. After a while of just nattering peacefully to each other about your days, winding down by playing with each other's fingers and sneaking kisses through the brackets of your arms, he feels so at peace to feel your weight familiarly resting on top of him. This need increases tenfold after he loses Ben, I think there's something so comforting to him, to know and feel that you're still so close to him, that he can synch the anxious patter of his heart against your own. He's so sweet bless him. he gets so sleepy that his head keeps falling down on top of your own, but he's so quick to lift it up again. He blinks languidly, that honey-sweet, silvery smile shadowed only by the tempered glow of the warm moonlight drifting through the balcony as he tries desperately to keep himself awake, giving his full attention to you.

There's just something about drifting off to the sound of your voice, knowing that for once, he's safe. That he's wrapped up, looked after, comforted by the love of his life. It just feels really nice to be the one coddled from time to time.

Sometimes, you'll jolt awake in the dead of night by the sound of some strange, wistful whispering echoing from somewhere in the near empty room. It takes your brain a little whirring time to realise it's coming from the hand that's spooning your waist, and the nose that's pressed tightly against the back of your thigh. Turns out Peter spends a lot of his sleepless nights tracing over your stretch marks, nestling down your back and reverently dancing his fingers up and down the tiger stipes on your waist. Every so often, he would rub his nose against their aureate lines in a fond kiss, gingerly resting his cheek against your bare skin again as he tried not to wake you up. What really made your heart melt, though, was the way an awe-struck 'wow' would slip from his lips in such a reverential tone, that Peter became so overwhelmed and could do nothing else but leave a small kiss against the side of your leg, dotted by slick tears.

This man picks you up on his scooter after your shift at work, mainly because 1) you are a much better driver than him, and it actually gets home in one piece rather than being tangled under a car wheel somewhere, and 2) when he's super stressed he finds it so comforting to wrap his arms around your side and press his forehead tightly into your back, letting the whole world melt away until nothing but whirling air and the scent of you is left. He always arrives outside your office building ten minutes early, making your secretary laugh when she spots him straightening his best flowery tie in the reflection of the waste bin by the bench outside. He has his best suit on, freshly pressed, and is nervously stepping from foot to foot with a crumpled bouquet of roses in his hand, like a teenager waiting to ask his crush to prom.

Every. Single. Day. You honestly just wait for the secretary to buzz you so you can grab your coat and run outside; you know far too well that Peter either dumps his Spidey suit through the window, or just wears his proper suit underneath so he isn't late. Doesn't matter if he has to catch five buses from the Daily Bugle, or has to 'borrow' his moped from 'Joe's Pizza' to get there on time, he's always there. And he always wants to look his best for you, even though he's still so surprised that someone as ethereal as you would even bother to look his way that he has to shuffle a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and dab at the sweat beading on his forehead.

It's either that, or Peter scaring the bejesus out of you by picking you up with his webs. You'll just be minding your own business, walking down the sidewalk on your way back from your lunch break, only to be hoisted, screaming into the air and past an equally petrified looking pigeon. Peter does feel bad the first time he did this, since you were screaming the whole time he swung you, but you've settled into a better routine now. You've found it easier to watch the scattered tiles of churches and the blurred crests of building whiz by while you're holding on tightly to his waist, and your feet are firmly pressed on top of his own so he can keep you steady against him. I mean, you might still bury your head into his shoulder blade in absolute terror, but he makes it up to you by landing you down gracefully on top of your office a couple of minutes before you go back in.

The adrenaline from swinging about New York makes the kisses far more heated, and it's always helpful to have a little privacy when you pull the edge of his latex mask harshly up past the bridge of his nose and nearly knock him flying over the cornerstones with how fervidly you smash your lips against him. His arms instinctively come to wrap around you, and even he's grown a little more emboldened by the knowledge that you actually do love him and this isn't some cruel villain trick or high school prank, to open his mouth and press his tongue lovingly against yours. He never wants to let you go, so before he lets you go back to your job he gives you a tight hug, and presses a million warm little kisses in a treasure trail down the pulse point in your neck.

This man literally has like... two outfits, so he's constantly wearing your clothes! Surprise! You come home to find him sitting criss-cross on the bed, face bruised and tired worn from his latest clash with Doc Ock, but your sweatshirt tucked over him and lifted up against his cheeks like a little hidden koala bear. Surprise! You plan a surprise birthday party for him with Aunt May, only for him to turn up after work wearing one of your jumpers! It's just so snug, and homey, and it reminds Peter of when he was ten years old; when you came round to sleepover, and the two of you would crash on his mat after spending so long pouring through and excitedly talking about the new quantum theories in the science magazines he used to buy with his pocket money, Peter would shuffle up beside you. With a sharp breath, he would tentatively turn on his side and pray he wouldn't wake you up, curling into the foetal position. With a smile like dawn breaking through the soft tufts of a cloud, he would press his nose into your shoulder and just breathe you in, hoping he would never forget it as long as he lived.

This man loves to take you out dancing, mainly so he can grin wildly and show you off to every other customer in the restaurant. Every time he passes the waiter, or the Maitre d', he points wildly at your back and mouths ecstatically 'that's my Y/n!'. He legitimately pools all the money he's made from the photography, and from the pizza delivery together so he can take you to a fancy restaurant uptown. He feels so nervous when he gets up with that breathless smile and offers you his hand, but all his troubles just immediately melt away once he feels your hand brush over the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. He falls against you, easily caught just like he was all those years ago. Your fingers feel so soft, so perfect as they slot between his own, although his left hand never stops rubbing over the supple skin of your waist as he sways the two of you back and forth in time to the dream-like lullaby of the string quartet.

[spnfic85]

First Comes Love... (Ch. 6)

WARNINGS: 18+ -Minors DNI ‼️- Fluff, Protective Uncle Peter, Protective Thor

Word Count: 1.85k

Author’s Note: Thank you again @slytherinqueen4life for reminding me how much I love this story! I know this chapter is a bit short, but I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Little trips can bring big announcements

Masterlist

Chapter 6

Your phone pinged almost immediately as Tony simply texted your name. You bit your lip and kissed Thor on the cheek before the pair of you decided to duck out of the bookstore and retreat to the parked car left in front of the café. Thor chuckled a bit at you as you ducked your head, hiding away your face as a photographer asked for your name. Although your partner was used to the attention, it made your face flush to be bombarded with questions as you slipped into the shadow and safety of the passenger seat while Thor gently closed your door with a wink.  

He smiled politely at the few who were eager to get information and murmured an apology and need to get somewhere before slipping into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. Your phone buzzed again, and you looked at your screen to see a tabloid link in the team’s group chat.

Shellhead: Thor. Y/N. Do I need to be worried?       Nat: Are you guys ok??       Shellhead: I thought you were taking her to lunch Thor, not notifying the world you were expecting children.        Jolly Green: Bringing anything back?        Nat: They’re allowed to, Tony.        Petah: Bring leftovers!!! I’ve been here training with Mr. Stark all day Dx       Y/N: We are okay… Leaving out now.       Nat: They’re a lot huh? I hated going out for a long time because of the photos.       Jolly Green: I thought you stayed out of sight out of habit… Once a spy, always a spy.        Nat: Shaddup Bruce.         Petah: 007 connections...         Shellhead: What?

            You snorted and put your phone away. The conversations were going to just repeat themselves once you got back to Stark Tower. You looked over to Thor and smiled softly as he glanced over a moment, noticing you.

            “Are you okay with this?” He asked gently, his fingers finding yours and lacing together with a soft squeeze. You nodded and smiled, your stomach flipping a bit thinking about now having to formally make some kind of post on your Instagram or something. Thor had one as well, but never could figure it out.

            “I think this is good… You can’t just have a secret family forever.” You teased and he squeezed your hand again. He chuckled and agreed smiling at you lovingly before keeping his eyes on the road as the car merged on the highway and headed home. You watched the scenery breeze past you and tried to imagine having two small children in the tower this time next year…

The fact that this time next year, your whole life is going to be so different…

            Getting back into Stark Tower was slightly a mess. There were a good number of paparazzi huddled around the front of the building, but only a few knew of the obscured entrance to the garage a block away.

            Thor groaned softly when he pulled up to the opening of the garage and saw three persistent men holding cameras and ready to ask questions the moment the vehicle slowed. The security system to the entrance refused to open due to the man who came up to your side window and started knocking persistently, attempting to convince you to roll your window down.

            “Thor! Are you really going to be a father? Who’s the mystery woman??” They pressed and tried to record your face as you ducked down and thanked god the windows had dark tint. Thor growled low in his throat and revved the engine a bit, inching closer to the entrance and triggered the door to open this time, before quickly and carefully zipping into the garage. Unfortunately, neither of you noticed the small figure that was able to roll under the closing door and hide in the shadows of another vehicle.

            “I’m sorry petal, I don’t know what’s gotten into me…” He murmured and cleared his throat. You felt your heart flutter a bit realizing that he was being overprotective with the person at your window. “I don’t like them swarming you. This is not the life you chose.”

            “It’s not yours either.” You murmured softly and kissed his cheek. “I chose you. My heart chose you. Whatever else comes, I’ll put up with it.” You smiled at the big blonde lug. He continually forgot that this wasn’t the life he wanted either, being so far away from home, losing his home completely… If he could adjust, CLEARLY you could too.

            You tried to slip from your seat and Thor rushed out the car to catch your door before stopping and staring down at you in the quiet space. “I love you Y/N… Thank you for finding me…” he murmured softly and kissed you deeply, hands pulling you close and gripping your hips.

            It amazed you. After all the time you have been with this man, kissing him still made your head go fuzzy and your stomach flutter when he looked at you. Those pure bright blue eyes looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. You bit your lip before kissing him again and hugging into his chest, just enjoying a moment together.

            “Hey!” You both jumped as a voice echoed loudly from the door to the tower. Peter stood in the doorway excited, “Sorry- did you guys need help? Oh! And did you get leftovers??” He asked excitedly as he started heading to you both, parked just a few cars from the door.

            “We could use your help.” You teased, “But don’t worry- we got leftovers. So many leftovers…” You opened the back door to the big white bags filled with takeout boxes.

            Peter grinned and started to help grabbing bags and shopping things. He was about to turn back in the tower while he asked how your trip went and froze.

            “Hold on… Something isn’t right…” He murmured, his head turning towards the dark corner of the garage. Peter’s Spidey senses still wigged you out a bit to see in person, but your heart raced more for the fact that you had no idea what Peter heard.

            He carefully and quietly put down the bags in front of you and turned to the corner completely, crouching as he neared the older car stored in the corner closest to the entrance. Before you knew it, Peter moved fast, scuffling with someone before a heavy thud was heard as someone hit the side of the car. Thor ran over and helped, and as fast as the whole altercation started, it was over. Thor pulled a very dusty reporter from the corner, hand gripping the collar of his coat.

            “He was taking pictures,” Peter said huffing and picking up a camera, “You want me to delete them?

            “H-hey! You guys don’t have to do that- I-I’m sorry!” The guy apologized, squinting as if he expected to be hit for speaking up. Peter looked up at him and you saw the tick in his jaw that only showed when he was angry.

“They didn’t consent and you’re trespassing.” Peter said coolly, “The photos you have are of a private moment. Just because she’s with him doesn’t mean they lose that.”

Your heart thudded in your chest as Peter waited for the reporter to relent. You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until the man nodded and Peter deleted the images before reaching to hand the camera back to its owner. Just as the camera was about to grace the fingers of the reporter, the man murmured something cruel under his breath to himself. You barely caught the tail end of something pertaining your size as Thor’s head snapped to lock in on the reporter’s eyes. There was an energy that radiated from Peter that you had never seen in person. The same muscle ticked on his jaw as he ground his teeth and took a deep breath. The man panicked as his eyes flit between the two men’s cold stares while Peter stepped closer to him.

Peter never broke eye contact as he held his hand out for the man to take his camera before the crack of the expensive lens echoed across the dark garage. The man flinched as the silent teen reached his hand out and dropped the now crushed equipment in the reporter’s hand. He leaned in and you held your breath praying no one lashed out, “If you’d like that to not extend to other parts of your career, never show your face around Stark Tower again.” He spoke softly, his eyes cold and promising nothing kind.

A wave of protectiveness radiated from both men that made your eyes water as Thor gruffly directed the shaken gentleman to the foot entry access on the other side of the garage. Peter turned to you and immediately his face softened into one of concern as you hiccupped and allowed the tears that were battling to fall.

“Y/N! What’s wrong??” He worried and checked over your face panicked as Thor hurried back over to the pair of you once the intruder was successfully locked out. You shook your head and offered them both a watery smile.

“I’m okay, you just- thank you.” You broke down and hugged Peter tightly, “Thank you for defending me.” He seemed too lax under your grip and hugged you back tightly.

“Of course! We’re family, no one gets to speak to you that way.” He said sternly and Thor chuckled.

“You are quite the protective little brother Spider Lad.” Thor clapped Peter on the shoulder and all three of you redirected your attention to carrying in your loot from earlier. As you wiped your tears from your now puffy cheeks, both men refused to let you pick up more than your small bag of books before being ushered back into the private access hall.

Within a few minutes, Peter was doing a happy wiggle, arms laden with white bags, as the three of you rode the elevator up to the commons shared with the team. Thor shifted his bags and took your hand before walking you to the shining kitchen to look over your baby loot once again. Natasha fawned over the small onesies before comparing a small sock to her own finger.

“We are going to need a nursery around here soon…” She murmured, “Any ideas you guys have come up with?” she inquired curiously while arching a brow. You hadn’t even considered preparing for the twins at the tower- or anywhere else for that matter. You chewed your lip worried a bit,

“I honestly hadn’t considered that yet… Eeek- We have to babyproof Tony and Bruce’s labs…” you worried quietly, Thor stopped chuckling at Peter’s excitement over the layout of foods and froze., “I wonder if Tony has anything in the works yet, I’m sure he does.” You continued.

“No- no we have not considered that.” He murmured, turning to look for Tony, “Where is Stark???” He inquired before heading to the small lab in the commons.

Natasha quietly picked up a piece of a cinnamon roll before sheepishly murmuring, “Oops,” and popping the bite in her mouth.

Chapter 7

[chubbygirlfics]

Request from: @jasontoddsthickbabe

Peter Parker x chubby reader

Jason Todd x chubby reader

(Separate)

Summary: what it’s like being their chubby s/o

A/n: Tysm for requesting! I enjoyed writing this and sorry if it’s not good I haven’t wrote in a long time so I’m a bit rusty

Jason Todd-

Jason has no preference in girls he dates but he’s not one to complain if his partner has more to love.

You guys met threw a mutual friend, after you two got introduced you quickly swapped numbers.

He thought you were very beautiful and breathtaking, so getting your number was a huge score

And you thought he was very attractive and didn’t think he would be interested but luckily he very much was

You guys talked for a few weeks over the phone before going on a date

He took you to a very nice restaurant and after that date u two started dating

He’s a very sweet boyfriend, treats you how u deserve to be treated and loves your body

The thing with Jason is that he’s kinda closed off for a while, he won’t fully open up to you until you’ve been together for a good minute

Which you understand but it has caused some fights.

He always makes sure he’s on time for your dates

Helps you pick out outfits that flatter your chubby body type

He didn’t get with you for your body or your beauty, but it definitely is a plus

He loves your thighs and tummy, every-time you cuddle he lays his head on either one

Comforts you anytime your feeling bad about yourself and completely shuts down any bad thoughts you have ab yourself

Don’t call yourself something mean infront of him bc he will call you dumb for saying whatever u said

Overall he loves you no matter what and is so happy that you chose him

Peter Parker-

He’s such a sweet boyfriend!

The first time you met, you had him stuttering and blushing so hard

Just imagine the joy he felt when he fount out you were into him

Your first date with him was a picnic date, he set it up all by himself, even had one of those checkered blankets laid down

Didn’t take long after that for you to completely fall for him as him with you.

He’s not really used to the boyfriend and girlfriend thing so it’s kinda awkward in the beginning

It takes him a couple of weeks to finally work up the courage to hold your hand

But after you get past the awkward stages, he constantly has a hand on you whether it’s hold your hand, his hand in your thigh, waist, or lower back.

He helps you with your homework whenever you get stuck on a question, thank god he’s smart

He loves you body to and like Jason loves cuddles and almost always has his head on your tummy or thighs but he also likes resting his head on your chest

Whenever u get insecure best believe he’s writing down everything that’s perfect about you and why you should never feel that way

Movie dates, picnic dates, small restaurants in queens dates, or even at home on the couch.

He loves you so much

[bitchyycapricorn]

Jealousy

College Frat!Peter x Reader

Summary: Blurb over a jealous Flash secretly watching reader ride Frat!Peter

Flash is absolutely obsessed with you. Everything about you in his eyes is perfect. And It just so happened that Flash was lucky enough to land a spot at the same college as you. Of course, his luck ran out there since Peter Parker also attended the same college as the both of you. Infact, Flash found himself in a way rooming with Parker, in a frat house that is.

See, nobody was surprised at Flash’s draw towards being apart of a frat, but Peter really took everyone by surprise. That included you as well. But, something about you loved the attitude and cocky confidence Peter gained in his little frat.

That attitude is exactly what lead you to where you were. Hovering above Peter’s naked body as you bounce up and down on his hard cock, taking in every inch of him. Your hips rocking back and forth, grinding roughly into Peters while his large hands grip your hips.

Flash had gone looking for Peter at the exact same time, hoping to urge the boy into playing a round of truth or drink with him and the others. It was to his surprise that when he opened the door, without knocking, he found you in there as well.

Flash watches you ride Peter in disbelief. He watches the way you throw your head back and moan Peter’s name quietly. He watches the way Peter’s hands begin to explore up and down your body. He watches the way you rise up on Peter’s thick length before dropping down again with force.

A bitter taste fills Flashes mouth as he analyzes the scene in front of him. It was the fact that he was now not only aware, but has to watch as Peter stuffs you full with his cock. It was the way he now knows just how cockdrunk you get for Peter as he murmurs dirty things to you.

Flash listens to the way your erotic moans fill the room. The way Peter calls you his filthy slut. His cock whore. His dirty little girl.

Each phrase makrs Flashes blood boil. Rage and disgust filling his body, yet he couldn’t look away. Not when you’re cumming around Peters cock with a cry. Not when Peter is fucking up into you so hard before he filling you with his cum.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can I get a 7 with Steve Rogers or Peter Parker? I love the nice guys being angsty

And congrats on the 5000

.⋆｡Noise｡⋆.

Peter Parker x plus size reader

You don’t like the quiet, Peter does

Warnings: angst, noise sensitivity, college!Peter, mutual pining, hurt/comfort

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Follower Celebration

Silence was your worst enemy, although you never really understood why you hated it. Whether that be the awkward silence during a lull in conversation or at 3am when the city quieted down. There had to be some kind of noise around you for you to feel at ease, usually it was music from your headphones or the chatter of other people but that wasn’t the case in Peter Parker’s room.

Somehow his room was the one place in all of New York that seemed to be above all the noise of the city. There were no sirens or voices or just random noises from the subway. Just silence.

And it was slowly driving you crazy. 

At first, the sound of your fingernails tapping your keyboard soothed you. It was rhythmic and just quiet enough to not disturb your best friend as he was studying. Then you moved onto bouncing your leg, which given that you were wearing socks and the whole room was carpeted, you could make almost no noise.

You sighed and shifted in your seat, becoming antsy as the silence seemed to close in around you. You could feel Peter’s eyes flick up to you occasionally but he never said anything so you started doing the only thing you could think of to create some noise. You began to hum.

The vibrations rumbled through your chest, immediately soothing the panicked feelings around your heart. Your shoulders dropped with relief and you finally felt like you were able to concentrate on the work in front of you instead of just mindlessly typing away to appear busy. 

You switched songs every 30 seconds or so, nodding your head along to the beat you were creating. Your usual smile began to pull at your lips as, unnoticed by you, Peter’s face fell and his eyebrows scrunched. 

He cleared his throat but you didn’t hear. “Y/N?” You looked back at him, pausing your humming for just a second. “Do you think you could be a little quieter please?” 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You responded bashfully with a giggle. Peter breathed a sigh of relief and sat back against the wall behind his bed. He gave you a half-smile to which you winked at him before turning back to your work.

Things were quiet again save for the occasional turning of a page or alert on your phones and you started to feel that discomfort creeping in again. Like a massive weight slowly coming down onto your torso, the anxiety grew once more. Your eyes darted over your essay but you couldn’t comprehend any of the words that you had written.

Your breathing picked up as your heart pounded loudly in your ears though it did not give you the relief that other noises would have. You swallowed thickly, clamping your jaw shut tightly. Maybe a little noise would be okay, you thought as you brought a hand to your chest to where your shirt didn’t cover.

The soft tapping of your fingers against your bare skin was barely louder than your racing heartbeat but it worked. Your body eased as you picked up the pace, finally getting the relief you desperately needed. You hadn’t even noticed Peter’s frown deepening, the vein in his neck twitching with aggravation.

“How are you this fucking annoying?” Everything stopped and your veins turned to ice. 

“I-I’m sorry.” You managed to squeak out around the massive lump in your throat. Even Peter looked shocked at what he said, his brown eyes wide with terror. “I think I should head home, my roommate will get worried if I’m not there after dark.”

You tried to grab your tote bag from the floor but before you could even touch the canvas handle, Peter had sprung from the bed and caught your hand. “Wait I didn’t mean-“ You shook your head and swallowed back your tears, you couldn’t talk about this now.

“I know I’m noisy okay, I’m sorry for disturbing you.” You tried to pull yourself away but his grip tightened. “Peter.” Your voice wobbled but he didn’t give you an inch.

“No, no I’m sorry. I was being an asshole.” He gently pulled you towards him and you let him wrap you up in his strong arms, needing some sort of comfort even from the person that had hurt you in the first place.

“Then why did you say that?” You murmured, slowly melting into his chest. Peter held your wide hips gently, brushing the tops of your thighs through your clothes with his thumbs.

He sighed heavily and let his forehead rest on yours, a regular gesture between the two of you that was far from platonic. “I’ve had a rough day. There was a robbery this morning and that made me late to my lab and then some asshole thought it was funny to use a dog whistle right outside. And I just- I was overstimulated and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, not when you were really trying.” 

You whimpered as a tear slid down your cheek. “I’m sorry beautiful, I really am. Let me make it up to you.” His right hand came up and gently wiped it away, keeping his hand on your soft jaw as he urged you to look into his eyes.

“How?” His smile was almost unsure, seemingly a little wary of how honestly he should respond.

“Let me order some food and we can watch Percy Jackson.”

“And cuddle?”His smile grew as his eyes twinkled. He ducked forward and gently kissed the tip of your nose.

“Whatever you want, I’m at your mercy tonight.” You giggled.

“And tomorrow too, I’m still kind of hurt.” Peter just squeezed your hip.

“Anything for you.” Maybe the silence wasn’t so bad, as long as Peter was quiet with you.

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv

Marvel

@lokiandbuckysdoll @andreasworlsboring101 @pretty-npeach @cakesandtom @elizabethmidnight2017 @beautyb1ade @bitchy-bi-trash @mewlingoizys @queer_poncho @everything-is-awesomesauce @hc-geralt-23 @wisteriia222 @certifiedhunter @annhells

[maxxieluvs]

Dear Lesbians,

I am sending you this message because you are the kindest people in the world.

Please Help Me My Son May Die at Any Moment.

I'm Amal, a mother of three children, living under the weight of the genocide taking place in Gaza. 🍉

My son is suffering from a severe and life-threatening injury after being shot by Israeli drones. He urgently needs medical treatment outside Gaza.

Time is running out, and we are facing a critical situation. I am asking for your generosity to help us save him either through a donation or by sharing this urgent plea with others

I beg you, i kiss your feet, to help my son. My son may die at any moment

I lost most of my family. I'm afraid to lose my son too 🥺

Mohammed deserves to live a happy and healthy life, just like every other child on this earth.

So I humbly ask you to donate even a little or at least reblog this appeal.

Please Donate now:👇

https://gofund.me/dd7ddc34

do yo thing lesbians

[cardierreh15]

Web Of Lies

Warnings 18+: Violence , Cursing , Smut , Use of Deadly Force , Near Death Experiences , Blood , Mentions of Parental Loss . (Will be adding more along the way 😊)

Chapter 1: Itsy Bitsy Spiders WIP ⚠️