#tasm!peter fluff

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

MERMAID- P.B PARKER

pairing: pirate! peter x mermaid! innocent!fem! reader

word count: 2.8k

summary: you and peter had fallen for eachother throughout his time on the open water- though the two of you couldnt properly communicate. however, one day, fate leads him right to you, as you were washed up onto shore with human legs. what will life be like now that he can finally have you aboard his fathers ship?

warnings: fingering, heavy praise kink, pet names, innocence/ corruption kink, squirting, swearing, mentions of booze, implications and advances, teasing etc

"beauty in the water, angel on the beach/ ocean's daughter, i thought love was out of reach. 'til i got her, had i known it could come true/ i would have wished in '92, for a mermaid just like you"- mermaid, train

Peter couldn't swim.

He couldn't swim- and yet he was here, upon floating wooden planks, and gallons of brandy.

It was long, and hard work on his fathers ship. Between monitoring the waters for any sign of life, and attempting to try and keep some of the lower men in order- he constantly grew tired.

And yet, when nightfall fell,and the other shipmates headed down for a pint and a smoke before going to their quarters- Peter was on the deck.

Wind ruffled his billowing shirt, tangling his hair as he would peer out the pale moonlight reflecting on the rippling waves. When nights were calm like this, he would look for you.

No one else knew why he was constantly surveying the empty waters, especially late at night- but they didn't ask. They knew not to.

At first, he thought he was seeing things.

The days were long, after all- and smokes could only keep him afloat for so long. But then it happened again. He’d catch a flicker of a tail between the waves, or the sunlight or starlight could illuminate your shimmering hair.

It was like gunpowder from a canon had hit him straight in the chest when you dared to inch closer to the ship, so he could see your eyes peeking out at him from above the waters.

You were beautiful. A siren, luring him to death.

He had never been so drawn to anything more in his life, not gold- not silver.

You were taunting him, each night you’d circle the ship as everyone was away, giving him a flirty little wave. He had no idea how he would get to you- but he needed to.

If that meant diving in the water just to flail- so be it, if it meant being closer to you.

He took a long drag of his smoke, letting it slither in the cool night breeze, the wind flapping the fabric of the sails loudly. Unbeknownst to him, you had slipped from your hiding spot, swimming under the hull of his ship before sneaking around with a gentle splash!.

He had tried talking to you- but it was no use.

You couldn’t respond, you were too far to hear- and for all he knew, you couldn't understand him. Yet he still tried.

You startled him, making him grasp his chest and chuckle to himself from surprise. “Good Lord, my little pearl you scared me!” he exclaimed from the ship, making you giggle.

The wind carried over the soft sound, reminding him of gentle wind chimes.

He smiled softly, admiring you with puppy dog eyes. They twinkled in the moonlight, looking like the stars above him. “I was worried you wouldnt come tonight. I thought you had swam away- away from me.”

You cocked your head staring up at him with a hint of confusion etched on your features.

I’d never swim from you. You wanted to call out, but the words caught in your throat like seaweed was tugging on your vocal cords.

“It’s probably not safe near humans, ya know. You’re a brave one, I’ll give ya that.”

But you’re different. You’re not like the rest.

“I suppose I’m the expectation, pearl. You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

You nodded and he smiled again, looking off to the horizon. A loud clang came from below deck, the sounds of broken glass and drunken laughs underneath.

You zoned in on the noise, observing him as he whipped around to make sure no one else had joined him. Once the coast was clear, he found your gaze again, watching as you dared to swim just a little bit closer.

The water was calm tonight, calm enough you caused little ripples in the water as you neared. You were so graceful, so elegant and beautiful- he couldn't help but stare at you. He never wanted to take his eyes off of you.

“Soon I’ll be back home, on land. I wish you could come with me, my love. I really do.”

Suddenly, as if Possiden himself had cast it, a towering wave rocked through the water,causing the ship to whip violently, rocking and teerting as it bobbed. The salt water covered his eyes, blinding him.

When the wave had finally passed- you were gone without a trace.

As if you had cast it, and had been swept right away with it.

-------------------------------------------------

The sky was dark gray, and that made him anxious.

The clouds looked threatened, crying tears of rain that coated the entire ocean in a murky haze. The wind was wild, howling so loud it was deafening.

His senses were blurred. His voice was stolen as he tried to signal to the crew to a patch of land he had found in the nearby distance- and from his frantic waving hands and constant look back- they got the idea.

It was rocky, the waves churning his own waves of nausea he tried to ride out.

Fingers digging into the splintered wood, he closed his eyes and prayed to every higher power out there that you were safe. That you were down below, hidden from the wrath the sky Gods had erupted on him.

It had taken time- had felt like years had passed, but the ship had made its way over to the mass of land that lay stranded. Ropes had been tied around any tree they could find that looked stable, the anchor placed down in the sand as the wooden bottom brushed the land.

Peter wasn’t worried about finding a place to sleep- the ship would be fine in the storm- it was the water below he worried about. For now, he and his crew were safe, they could warm up below deck and call it quits early.

But despite this, something felt off.

He couldn't help but jump down, off deck to the churned earth below. He was soaked to the bone, the only thing keeping him somewhat protected was the jacket that surrounded his broad shoulders.

Peter needed to explore. There was something calling his name, pulling him in, to the shores out of sight. He trudged on, before he was anchored to the spot.

There you lay, frail and small compared to the looming rocks around you, nothing but a thin dress of seaweed coating your torso. Shells were scattered in your hair and- legs.

Long, gorgeous legs lay out in the sand, bare feet covered in grains of sand.

He called, sprinting towards you against the wind to where you lay. You whipped your head towards him- towards that oh so familiar sound, and felt a sense of relief wash over you.

You were spit out upon shore- but to Peter you looked like a pearl that had emerged from an oyster.

You were ethereal. And you were here, on land- with him.

“My love? What- what happened? Are you okay?” he frantically scrambled over to you as you tried to stand, legs wobbly making you tumble down into his arms.

“I got legs. For you.” you whispered, looking up with a blissed out gaze, shivering in the cold as the wind blew through again. His eyes widened in shock, and his hand slipped up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing small circles against your skin.

“For me? But how’d you know I’d be here? My love, my love that was so, so risky.” he softly scolded you, stripping himself from his jacket to wrap it around your body- engulfing you.

You couldn't help but stare at his defined biceps that were now fully in view, his white shirt soaked through and clung to him like a second skin. He was so handsome it made you dizzy.

You wobbled again, and he picked you up with ease, cradling you into his chest as he started to walk back to the safe haven of the ship.

“I figured you’d be here. And, I just let the waves carry me. I begged them to take me to you. I guess they listened.” you smiled softly, despite your teeth chattering, fingers curling into his shirt. His skin felt warm, even in the storm.

“I wish I had known your name to call to the gods for you to come to me, my sweet pearl.”

“Y/N.”

He looked down at you, eyes glowing with warmth and admiration at the sound, trying the syllables out on his tongue- the taste so sweet he felt giddy. “That's a beautiful name.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I couldn't tell you before. It just… it was feasible.”

He nodded in understanding, watching as the glow of the lanterns grew nearer.

“I understand, my love. But now, it’s feasible. And it's in my best interest to get you warm and fed, and protected. You're mine now, Y/N.”

You planted a soft kiss on his neck, his breath hitching at the sensation. Your lips were as soft as cushions, sending shivers down his spine in pulses of pleasure.

He felt ashamed of all the things he wanted to do to you- the things he had thought about for so long when the sun went down and he was alone with his cock in hand.

But now that you were here- that you were here with him? He almost couldn't believe it was real.

But as the freezing cold rain that pelted down his back reminded him- he was very much in reality. 

------------------------------------------------------ Peter still wasn't used to seeing you in his bed.

It had been weeks since you had found him, and yet every time he saw you- you took his breath away, as if you were a goddess who had come down from heaven to save him from his misery.

The first time you had been in his bed, he had an audience. Everyone had wondered who and what you were- how it was even possible a girl was alive in this part of the ocean.

He had shooed them away like bugs- promising to tell them in the morning- knowing damn well he wouldn't.

You were his secret to keep, and to hold. They may know you with legs, but he knew you long before.

You were shivering- cold and tired as he placed you in a warm bath, helping you wash up before getting you some hot food, watching as you gobbled it up like a woman starved.

You had then passed out on his bed above the sheets, too tired to even try to wiggle under them. He had then realized that you had probably never slept in a human bed before, chuckling to himself as he tucked you in without you even stirring from sleep.

Now, his bed was your favourite place.

You savoured these private, quiet moments with him, loving nothing more than when he wrapped his arms around you, listening to his breath as you dozed off in his embrace.

Most days, you barely had time to see him- as his father had put both of you to work. Though his father took pity for you, thankfully-and left the grueling chores for the rest of the men. Not that Peter would let you really lift a finger, anyways.

He always snuck glances at you whenever he could on the deck, watching you as you’d look out on the horizon from a new perspective- breathing in the salty air as the seagals cawed above, the sun shining brightly. There hadn't been any storms since you had come on board. Metaphorically, and physically.

There had been no arguments, no brawls since you were found- and Peter almost hated it- because he knew the men only weren’t because they were trying to make a good impression on you. He saw their stares, even when you didn't- and couldn't help but snarl like some possessive dog with its bone when anyone got too close.

They were all envious, of course.

You were so charming, so sweet and naive- borderline clueless to their advances. They knew not to get too close- of they knew what was good for them- but he couldn't punish them for staring, afterall.

Well maybe he could… 

“That tickles!” you giggled, the sweet sound breaking him from his trance. You wrapped in his arms, all ready for bed in your adorable sexy little white nightgown that drove him crazy- as his fingers traced little lines on your skin. Connecting all your little freckles, getting delight as you shivered from his touch, clenching your thighs together.

“Can’t help it. Your skin is just so pretty n soft, you smell so good my little seashell. You have little treasure maps all over you.”

You peered up at him, draping your leg across his thigh with a smile. You were obvious to the effect you were having on him, actions completely innocent when his thoughts were anything but.

The two of you hadn't done anything more than some kisses and passionate, teasing touches- as Peter didn't want to pressure or rush you into anything. You had just gotten legs- after all, and you were just so innocent.

But the way you looked up at him with those doe eyes… he still couldn't believe you were real. That you were here, and you were his- in his arms, in his bed.

“What treasure is it?” you asked, fingers wrapping around one of his, turning him on more than he thought was even possible.

Fuck he felt like a hormonal teenager again.

“You of course. You’re worth more than all the gold and gems in the world, ya know that pearl? My sweet girl.”

You giggled at his words, heat burning your cheeks. You were squeamish, your skin buzzing with warmth at his touch. You had so many questions about this feeling- was this how humans felt all the time?

All warm and fuzzy like- melting at the simple brush of a finger down your arms, down to your thighs?

“Peter?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m having funny feelings.” you confessed, and his face distorted with confusion.

“What do you mean my love? Where? Can you show me?”

“I’m just all tingly n warm. Your touch makes me feel funny-” you guided his hand to your inner thighs. “-right here.”

You looked up at him innocently, and he almost came right then and there. You were confused- confused with the concept, though slightly familiar because another mermaid had told you about the one time she spied on a couple in their bedroom, from below deck.

The things she described, you wanted Peter to do to you. You trusted him to do those things.

You nodded at his questioning gaze- as if to say are you sure?

You wanted this to be with Peter.

His gaze softened as you guided his fingers down to your damped panties, nuzzling up so you were pushed back against his chest as he spread your legs between his- caging you in.

“That'ssss it, show me where it aches baby.” he mumbled, kissing your head, smiling against you as he heard you gasp as his fingers dipped between your folds.

Jesus you were soaked. “Right there? Is that where it tingles?” he asked as you nodded, mumbling some incoherent praise as you bucked your hips and squirmed at the circling of your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t run from this honey. I know, I know it feels all funny but I promise it’ll feel so good.”

He kissed your head again, reassuring you as his finger taunted your entrance before curling into you- making you moan. ‘F-fuck-” you whined, making him chuckle.

“Now where did you learn that word from my love?”

“O-one of the guys on deck.” You moaned as his finger pumped in and out, clenching around him tightly. He tskked. “Well that's a bad word baby. We don't say that- okay?”

“O-okay…” you whined, clinging onto his arm as he continued to please you, your puppy dog eyes making him smirk.

He wondered how this felt for you. Were you extra sensitive because of the changes? He couldn't help but feel more turned on that you could come apart like this at the touch of his finger.

“I know baby, you’re doing so good. So, so good for me- so sweet n pretty like this, yea?” he cooed as you grinded up into his palm, whining, nails digging enough to leave crescent moons.

“Peter I can’t-”

“Yes you can baby. Just give in, doin ' so good.” he interrupted gruffly, planting kisses and praises to your head as you came, riding you through your orgasm.

“Good girl. You did so good for me, didn't you my love?” You nodded, watching as he removed his soaked fingers, looking down at the wet splatters on the sheets and on your thighs.

“Is that normal?” you asked hesitantly, and he smiled. “Yes baby, I promise. You did so good.” he assured, lips captring yours as you clung to him, legs shaking slightly.

“Soon, maybe you can take my cock.” he smirked, a glint in his eye before leaning down to kiss you again.

[heartsandstars46]

The first time (prelude)

tasm!Peter x virgin!gf reader

Fluff, angst, anxiety about sex, some spice

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted! 🩷🩷 Real talk, this is my longest fic to date and I am nervous. 😅😅😅

You and Peter had been dating for a while now. He was your first real boyfriend, and you’d said the “I love yous,” but you didn’t know what was supposed to come next… how all that was supposed to work. Okay, meaning sex. Should the two of you have had sex by now? Probably? 

You also probably should have had sex in life by now, but you hadn’t, and that was hard to forget… especially while you were curled up on the couch making out with Peter—feeling his lips on yours, his tongue, his hands in your hair. You tried to stay with those sensations—and the desire they sparked—but your mind kept pulling you away, screaming that you were probably doing something wrong. Did you kiss like a virgin? Could he tell? You knew he was more experienced, but you two hadn’t really talked about it much. Somehow, sex was both hanging over and detached from your relationship.

As Peter’s hand grazed the small of your back, just barely under the hem of your shirt, you wondered what that meant. Was the expectation that you would take your shirt off? Was that what other girls did in this situation? In movies, they were falling back onto the bed, the floor, any solid surface, ready to have their clothes torn off, ready for anything. 

Were you ready for… anything?

“Hey,” Peter said softly, dropping a hand onto your knee. You jumped. He smiled sadly. “Yeah, I kind of got the feeling you weren’t all there. Are you okay?”

You aggressively shook your head, as if that would make all the confusing thoughts fly out. He slid back further so he could really look at you.

“I’m fine, I just wish I were fucking normal,” you sighed. 

Peter chuckled. “Yeah, join the club.”

You knew he meant well, and you still bristled with annoyance. Okay, sure, he was Spider-Man, he was never going to be truly normal, blah blah. But in the realm of dating, it felt like there was this chasm between you because he had had sex before and you hadn’t. 

You jumped up and went into the kitchen. You didn’t want to talk about any of this. You didn’t want to sound irrational and stupid.

But you had expected Peter to follow you, and he hadn’t. So now you were just… alone in the kitchen. You pretended you needed water and filled a glass. You hadn't planned on telling your first. You figured you’d just have sex one day, and it would be like a hook-up, no big deal. But now that sex was grazing the edges of an actual, loving relationship, lies of omission didn’t feel right anymore.

You turned around, leaned against the counter, and looked at Peter in the living room. He was watching you from the couch, but he still didn’t come in. 

“Are you giving me space so I talk about the thing on my own?”

“Only if it’s working. If it’s not, then I’m definitely not doing that.”

You smiled in spite of yourself. 

“Can we meet in the middle—literally?” He gestured to the hallway between the two rooms. Despite your heavy sigh of annoyance, you were actually relieved. At least one of you wanted to deal with you right now.

You both sat down on the hardwood floor facing each other like little kids about to play one of those hand-clapping games in the schoolyard.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

You sighed. “Do I have to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay, great,” you said, and started to get up. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Peter grabbed your wrist. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“You can’t help,” you said softly. “Even if you knew what’s going on.”

“Can I decide for myself?”

You gave an “it’s your funeral” type of laugh. “Peter, we’re not the same. We're never gonna be the same.” He stared at you. “You looking at me like I’m crazy is definitely not helping!”

“I’m sorry, I just don't know what you're talking about.” You flinched at the annoyance in his voice.  “Of course we’re never going to be the same, no two people are the same. Why is that a problem? Especially now. Like, this is what you’re thinking about when we’re kissing?” Now he sounded hurt too, and you were starting to well up with tears, so you had to keep your back toward him. “I struggle to form any coherent thoughts when I’m kissing you, but okay. All I want is to feel you and to make you feel good, but okay.”

You could feel a few rogue tears slip down your cheeks. “I knew we shouldn’t talk about it.”

“No, we have to talk about it. If you're not into... this, I have to know. We have to stop.”

That only made you cry harder. “It’s not that, and it's not you.”

"Yeah, okay," he scoffed.

You spun around, tears streaming down your face. “Peter, it’s not you, I promise.” You had to look him in the eye when you said that. He looked hurt more than anything, though his expression softened when he saw you crying. “It’s… sex. More specifically, when we go to have sex and you find out I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He jumped up, but you stepped back away from him, your face on fire with embarrassment. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered. Because you were looking down, you saw that he was pulling his sweatshirt sleeves over his hands. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you kept saying. You hated that you had hurt him, you hated yourself for being like this… there was a lot of self-loathing to go around.

“Let’s just take a breath here.” He gave you his empathetic smile—lips pressed together but eyes concerned—and he used his sleeves to dry your tears.

“Peter, I don’t want to disappoint you. What am I supposed to be doing? Am I supposed to be waiting around for you naked one night and it just happens? Is that how this works? I don’t know, like…?”

“Hey.” Peter held your hands in his. “I don’t know either. You act like I’ve done this a million times and it’s as ‘whatever’ as, I don’t know, buying chocolate milk. It’s not. It’s us.” He shook your hands in his, and you were grateful for the warmth spreading from his palms to yours. “It’s whatever we want it to be. So while I’m certainly not going to object to you waiting around for me naked, I only want that if you want that.” He bumped you lightly with his forehead. 

You were staring down at your intertwined fingers when he asked, gently, “What do you want?”

You glanced up and found him staring at you so sweetly with his big brown eyes. “I want you to be my first,” you whispered. “I want to have that experience with you. But I know that means it probably won’t be very good for you or whatever….”

“Can I be honest with you?”

You braced for impact. “Okay….”

“If I’m honest… the thought of doing it with you is just, like, wow.”

You stared at him. “Are you blushing?”

“Yeah, well, if I think about it too much, I start to get… excited, and we’re trying to have a serious conversation here!”

Your stomach flipped, and your voice was a tiny squeak. “You get excited? Thinking about having sex with me?” Because your anxiety had so overwhelmed the topic of sex, it had left no possibility for Peter to actually want you like that.

He was looking at you like you were nuts. “Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I? You’re my girlfriend, and I love you. Not to mention, you’re fucking gorgeous. Like, to get to see and feel all of you… When that happens… I just… I don’t even know what to say.”

You could feel yourself blushing now. You touched his cheek.

“And to be even more honest…” he drew in a shaky breath. “When I had sex in college, I was convinced that I would never be in love again. That’s why just ‘getting it over with’ felt like the best option at the time. I mean, maybe that will ultimately work in our favor and I won’t be complete shit at it for you.” He smiled nervously. “I just never thought someone would know me and love me the way Gwen did. And then you came along. If I had known to just wait a few more years for you, ahh.” He punched the air in frustration.

You nestled into his arms, wishing you could hug away college Peter’s belief that he would never be loved again—especially considering all the love your heart held for him. He kissed the top of your head. 

“First of all, I love you. Secondly, you know…” you mused, “it’s not like I’ve been saving myself or anything, not on purpose. But if it works out that my first time is with someone I really, truly love, then I guess I’m pretty lucky. And I’m sorry that you won’t have that same experience.”

He was quiet for a minute, then said, “Well, maybe I will. Kind of. Because it’s not gonna be just sex for us. It’s gonna be my first real time. It’s going to be the first time it means something.”

You smiled and snuggled more deeply into his arms. As much as you hated having to be so vulnerable (and that was just with words at this point! oh lord), it felt like you both had just freed each other somehow.

“We’ll get there when the time is right,” he said softly. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Part 2 to follow! 🩷🩷

[lomlkenji]

༊*·˚ pretty boy | peter parker

main masterlist

for you, peter is the literally definition of pretty. his big brown puppy eyes and his perfectly structured face, his lean but muscular built, his cute little pout when you don’t give him a kiss before he goes patrolling.

he is just so so very pretty.

you don't know know how long you have been staring at him for, but he didn't seem to notice. too busy focusing on his science project, and his concentration is very hot.

his long slender fingers moving carefully and slowly to put the pieces together and your attention only zeroed on them. such, such pretty hands.

the weight of your stare was starting to make peter nervous. peter gets flustered very easily. and with you? you didn't even have to try.

peter suddenly put down the components for his project and turned to you, “i know i'm hot but can you please stop staring at me like that?” he mumbled, as a soft blush appear on his face. his tone was confident but you can sense his nervousness.

he tried focusing on his project again as you chuckled, the kind of chuckle that sends tingles all over peter's body, “sorry pete, but you are just so very pretty.”

wow. okay he didn't expect that.

peter chocked on his saliva, his body hot all over, nearly dropping the pieces of his homework.

“baby, you can't just say things like that.” he looked at you, eyes wide and soft. and it makes you grin.

“it's the truth.” you shrugged, “you're my pretty boy.” you know you're testing his limits, but it was fun teasing peter.

peter's mind malfunctioned. he's trying to ignore you, but the way you said my pretty boy is replaying over and over in his head.

“damn it.” he quietly swore, putting down whatever left of his project and turning to you.

your eyebrows rose in a teasing manner as a smirk finds its way to your face. “what?” you innocently asked, but you know exactly what you're doing, and he knows it too.

peter chuckled as he walks to where your laying at the bed. the sound send a shiver up your spine and now you're the one who's nervous.

he leaned closer to you, you could feel his breath on your lips as you both took a moment to admire each other. peter was staring at your eyes to your nose and your soft lips, bringing his eyes to connect with yours again and you could feel your stomach doing flips.

“and you're my pretty baby.” he whispered softly before cutting off a whine that rose up your throat with his lips.

his lips were a little chapped, but it fits your perfectly. your hands move to tangle on his hair, giving it a little pull making peter groan into the kiss. he leaned back, his warm hands move to find comfort on your waist as he brings you onto his lap.

peter felt like his heart was about to burst. every single sense of his is override and all he can focus on is you. you. you.

his home.

reblog for a kiss <3

[ohwowimlonley]

peter just coming over to your place to fuck you rough then cuddle w you while he asks about your day lol

Peter loving backshots w you bc of the way reader ass moves lol- idk something tells me he’s an ass man ( especially tasm! Peter )

Double P having you on top and putting you in a bear hug as he thrusts

-

“Well, if Mr Stevens can’t see that you’re acing this photography, then he really shouldnt be teaching at all,” you’d say, raking your nails through his thick hair. He nudges closer to you, cheek resting against your breasts as he tracks his right hand lazily over your naked body.

“I know, I know, just wish I could get a passing grade for once,” he laments, fingers eventually dropping in between your legs, sliding through the wetness of both our your releases.

-

“God, baby, fuckin’ look at it,” it’s a whine, or Peter’s closest approximation to it. He takes your asscheeks in both his hands, pulling them apart, pushing them back together, squeezing, slapping, digging his nails in, “gonna fuck it one day, you won’t be able to walk for a week,”

“Ahh,” you sob, arching your back as he shocks you with the harshest spank yet. You’re sure your ass is red raw by now, but it doesn’t stop Peter from pulling your cheeks apart again and landing a fat glob of spit directly onto your unused hole.

-

“Right there- Peter!” It’s almost a scream, but it’s really not your fault because Peter has his arms wrapped firmly around your back, fingers stretching to the space in between your shoulder blades and using it as leverage to fuck up into you at the perfect angle, right into that soft spongy spot deep inside you that makes you dribble onto his shoulder, “oh, God!”

“Shh, sweetness, it’s okay,” he murmurs into your hair, smirking as you cry out when his pubic hair graze against your engoreged clit, “I’m right here,”

[alwaysmoncheri]

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

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

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

<3

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

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

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

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

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

“But–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh whatev—hmph!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<3

masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist

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

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

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

[madwcman]

tasm! Peter kissing reader any chance he gets?

a/n: thank you for requesting <3

pairing: tasm! peter x reader

peter silently wraps his arms around you and rest his head between the crook of your neck, giving your neck a small peck. peter always wants to kiss you, every chance he gets he takes it.

“what was that kiss for?” you giggle, as your boyfriend’s grip on you tightens, and he starts to sway you both.

“just wanted to kiss you.” he says softly, moving his head from your neck, his lips landing on the apple of your cheek.

“you always want to kiss me.” you move your head back to look at peter with a bright smile. “of course i do.” he turns you around so you could face and see him fully. you give peter a warm smile and wrap your arms around his neck. he moves in to give you more kisses, you deserve all the kisses in the world from him, in his opinion. if he could kiss you all day he would, so he kisses you any chance he can.

“peter!” you shout, laughing at the pampering he’s giving you, you think your boyfriend is overly sweet, and you love it. you love peter.

he stops and pulls from your face. he has a cheeky smile and pulls you in, hugging you tighter than before. “you’re too sweet, peter.” you tell him fondly. your hands going up to peters hair, playing with it softly, he loves when you play with his hair. it makes him melt.

“i’m too sweet?”

“yes, you practically spoil me.” you giggle out, your heart is all warm and you feel a little silly when your with peter. “well a sweet girl like you should be spoiled.” and he moves in to kiss you all over again.

[agusrkive]

Some say love is a burning thing

what would it be like to go on a date with tasm!peter who’s just head-over-heels in love with you as much as you are with him—

cw: fluff, fluff, fluff

going on a date with Peter would include him being all over you and your face would heat up wondering how the hell did you even manage to get this man in your grasp?

as if that wasn’t enough, he’d also pepper your face full of kisses until you hide from embarrassment. you were in public for god’s sake! but he’d make it up to you by pulling you to his chest with his arms around you like a vice in case you try to slip away from his grasp and his lips on the side of your head "aww did I make my girl shy?" the tone in his voice was teasing. you let it slide, but not without sending a playful punch to his chest. you look up at him with a frown, his full height towering yours. you weren’t small, he was just very tall and gorgeous. he leans down a little and you avert your gaze trying your hard to stay annoyed at the man, but you fail anyway when you steal a glance at him and see the look on his face. nothing but endearment and full of admiration like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened in his entire life.

so you give in and booped his nose with your finger. he’s so cute you thought as you let out a small giggle and stand on your tippy toes before giving him a quick peck on the lips. you caught him off guard and he pouts.

“kiss”

"but I just gave you one.” you tease him a little more and he just rolls his eyes. now he’s the annoyed one.

"that was merely a peck, need a real one.” he whined and pursed his lips at you. you grin at him while he just stands there like he’s not going to budge until you give him what he wants. you

not wanting to make it hard for him anymore, you grabbed his face and pulled him down to you. his mouth came crashing with yours and you feel yourself melt with his kiss. the way he moves his lips against yours is enough to send your mind in a frenzy. his kisses are soft and gentle, but hungry with need. you feel him pulling you against him even more closer as he try to deepen the kiss. it lasted more for a minute or two before you decided to pull away remembering again that you’re in a public place. god you could never get enough of him

“too much?” he chuckles while you just nod your head at him, face still looking a little red at the public display of affection that you two just had. you look around and find no signs of people nearby. you sighed in relief and you felt Peter grabbing your hand.

“let’s get you home now,” he said as you trailed on behind him, hands we’re intertwined with each finger, his palm was so warm against yours. it was big, but not too much as it just perfectly fit yours making your heart flutter at the sight. you walked a little faster to catch up with the big stride of his legs and now you’re walking side by side with him thinking how lucky and happy you are right now.

[parkerpeter24]

HIII i am begging can you write a Peter Parker x reader one shot where peter and reader are married and have a toddler and maybe the avengers team find out PLISSSS ANS TYYYY 🫶🫶🫶

baby 🥺

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

requests are open (but i barely write stuff)

masterlist

“what is he doing on the ceiling?!” kate yelled as soon as you entered the lobby, searching for your little toddler ben. you rubbed your eyes as you approached a very baffled kate, “your child is on the ceiling! how are you so calm?!”

“it’s 7 in the morning.” you winced as you looked at ben, him giving you an excited look and extended his arm towards you, making you do the same, “come on, benny, come to mama.”

and he did so as, un-sticking himself from the wall as he perfectly landed in your arms.

your two year old was way better at this than peter when he had started out as spider-man. his hand kept getting stuck to different places and after a bunch of ripped t-shirts and a couple of haircuts, you bought him rubber gloves. however, that didn’t work either.

as your little boy nestled against your chest, you looked over to kate who still had surprise written all over her face, “he’s spider-man’s child.” you explained simply.

“but- what if he fell down?”

“oh, he wouldn’t. he’s way too smart for that, aren’t you, benny?” you booped his nose and he gave you a grin.

“yes, mommy.”

you and peter had kept your relationship secret for a couple of years, at least from peter’s superhero gang. so it didn’t come off as a surprise when the avengers found out that you two had a one year old. they were very disappointed in you two for not telling this big a thing but the second they saw ben’s cute little face and his smile, you were forgiven and everyone was happy.

when you agreed to move into the avenger’s tower, tony was more than excited. he added a bunch of toys to the huge playroom that was originally built for morgan.

you were surprised to see that thor was the most attached to your baby. he spent time with him and thursdays were reserved to thor and ben taking a tour of the city. you trusted thor, however you had only allowed this after ben turned two, which was only a few weeks ago.

whenever natasha was around, she would tell ben all kinds of stories about how she kicked bad people’s butts so that little kids could sleep peacefully at night and ben would adore those “tales” even though they were real.

“next time you find him on a ceiling, just show him a cookie, he’ll come right down.” you told kate as you patted ben’s back, gently lulling him back to sleep.

“if you say so.” kate replied, chuckling as she watched you for a minute, “you should get some more sleep too, you look tired.”

“he refused to sleep last night because tony let him have extra ice-cream.” you rolled your eyes.

you noticed ben had fallen asleep, already drooling over the material of your t-shirt as you carried him back to his crib, placing him securely under his blanket before you made your way to your own bed. your husband, peter was still fast asleep. you laid down on the bed, peter already pulling you closer as if it was a reflex. you felt his arm relax against you, his head resting close to your shoulder and soon you felt the soft caress of sleep take over.

the bedside clock showed 10:34 as time when your eyes opened again. the room was empty, peter and ben both gone. you quickly freshened up before making your way out of the room and into the main gathering area once again.

only this time you were greeted with everyone sitting around and laughing as steve held his shield on his lap with ben sitting on top of it.

“hey, babe.” peter was the first one they greeted you as he placed a kiss on your cheek and dragged you in the middle of whatever was happening.

“uh, what’s happening?” you asked, looking around.

“your child is stuck to cap’s shield.” tony said, an almost proud smile spread over his face to which steve gave him a glare.

“guess who inspired it.” natasha rolled her eyes at her two friends, however a small smile remained on her face at the little banter going on.

just then kate ran into the room, holding a cookie in her hand as she handed it to steve, “got it!”

“come on, kid.” steve said, waving around the cookie in the air in front of him. ben’s eyes lit up and steve smiled, “it’s yours if you leave the shield.”

however, cap’s efforts failed as ben reached out one hand to grab the sweet but didn’t move a bit to release his shield.

“i bribed him good.” tony shrugged as he sipped on his black coffee.

you watched the whole scene unfold, amused to say the least. you noticed peter snickering as he stood beside you. you smacked his chest lightly, “you think this is funny? go get your child.”

“and forget the spider-bike mr stark promised me? never.”

[writtenbymoonflower]

Unpretty

You are insecure and Peter is oblivious. tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

cw: reader had very negative thoughts about body image. mentions of weight and general body image issues. i tried to keep it as neutral as possible so everybody could read and relate, so it can be read as plus!size reader or not.

1.5k words

The position you were in wasn’t unnecessarily uncomfortable. The physical part felt really nice, actually. Peter was laid on his side, nose nuzzled into your hair while you were in his arms flat on your back. His even breathing was soothing and you felt close and warm. 

Emotionally, however, you felt confused. 

You had to resist cringing every time you remembered that Peter’s large hand was spread over the bottom of your tummy, likely feeling everything “wrong” about it. He could definitely feel it wasn’t as flat or firm as you would like it to be, even through your thick crewneck. And even though you logically knew it was impossible, you felt the stinging insecurity all over your body, like he was touching you everywhere you hated. Your brain was telling you that through feeling the soft part of your stomach, he could also feel and see where your thighs were too big, where stretchmarks were painted all over your body, and where your skin wasn’t completely smooth. 

He probably would hate my body as much as I do if he could see. The little voice in your head nagged. 

Obviously, you knew that wasn’t true. You knew that everyone had little things that bothered them and yours weren’t even especially unusual. You also knew that voicing these thoughts to Peter would likely lead to you being even more self-conscious and him being confused. Or even worse, him pitying you. You were snapped out of your spiral by Peter’s shifting in position. 

“What’re you thinking of, baby?” Peter whispered. To your horror, his hand started rubbing your stomach over your sweater. “I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.” He laughed the way he does when trying to calm you down, like he doesn’t think it’s funny but it might be less intimidating if you believe he does. You turned your head to look at him. Being this close didn’t allow you to see his full face, but you could see one of his pretty brown eyes, looking at you with far too much love for your heart to handle.

“Not thinking of anythin’ really.” You kept your voice as even as possible and hoped he didn’t hear the nervous hitch in your breath as he reached under the hem of your sweatshirt to touch your skin. You panicked and tried to cover by grabbing his hand in yours and holding it between your ribs, right under your chest. He looked confused but still stroked your hand with his thumb.

“Yeah okay.” He was sarcastic and rolling his eyes but his voice was still light. He brought your joined hands up to kiss the veins on your wrist, closing his eyes and letting his lips linger for a good few seconds. All while still burning his eyes over your face, letting his pupils linger over a feature before jumping to the next, admiring your whole face with so much care you would cry. 

“What?” You asked, growing shy under his intense stare. 

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He was still smiling at you like a fool. “So so pretty.” He sing-songed. He urged you to lay on top of him with his arms, but you held fast in your place. Your boyfriend apparently took this as a challenge, because he showed off his real strength by pulling you fast onto his chest. 

“Peter!” You said, scolding and nervous and flustered all at once. 

“What?” He asked smugly, with a look of triumph on his face. You ducked your head out of his eyesight. “Baby, what’s up?” He asked again, more sincere. You still didn’t answer, your anxiety was roaring too loud in your head. You were probably crushing him under your weight. His hands were planted on your hips, likely feeling the extra fat and getting grossed out. He was just too nice to say anything. He was also too far close to your face for comfort, definitely seeing patches of oily skin or blemishes littering your face. It all became too much for you and you tried to roll off of him, but he gripped onto you harder. 

“Peter, let me off.” You kept your voice light but you were panicking inside. 

“Yeah, not happening.” He stayed stubborn as a mule. 

“But I’m heavy, I’ll crush you.” You said desperately. 

“Good.” He rebutted, still acting as if this was a casual conversation. 

“Peter, I’m serious. I’m too heavy for this. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Your voice trailed off, getting quieter towards the end. The whole sentence was soaked in shame that Peter hadn’t yet picked up on. Now, there was a concerned crease between his eyebrows. 

“Huh?” He looked genuinely confused. “What put that dumb idea in your head? ‘Too heavy’ for what, exactly?” He started as if he was about to rant, but cut it short. To your dismay, he pulled more of your weight onto him. 

“It’s not dumb, it’s true. I’m just too heavy” You argued back. He couldn’t really be that oblivious. Anyone with eyes could see it. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” He started sassing, like he actually wasn’t sorry at all. “I didn’t know that you now were the only deciding judge of something being ‘too much.’” He was being defiant on purpose. 

“Peter, please.” All joking and argumentativeness had left your tone, just leaving shame and sadness. Peter softened at this and encouraged your head up to meet his eyes, holding your jaw firmly so you couldn’t look away. He looked like he was slowly putting pieces together in his head. 

“Baby,” He started, still not breaking eye contact with you. “Is this why you’ve not been letting me touch you as much?” Peter looked so sad, it didn’t suit him at all and you wanted to make it better immediately. “Do you think there’s something wrong with you, that I would think there’s something wrong with you?” On the last sentence he was extra distressed, like he couldn’t believe the words were leaving his mouth. 

“I just-” You were trying to articulate your feelings without making this any worse. “I mean, not every part of me is pretty, you know that.” You tried to say it casually but Peter’s expression didn’t lighten at all. Instead, his bottom lip jutted out and his eyes got wider, looking like a cartoonishly sad puppy who was denied a treat. 

“I don’t know that, actually.” He moved his hand to the back of your head, threading his fingers in your hair. “You don’t think you’re pretty?” He said the last part like his heart was cracking. And in Peter’s mind, it was. His baby was thinking badly of herself, and even worse, she was thinking he thought badly of her. 

“I mean,” You cringed as the words left your mouth, wanting desperately for the conversation to end. “Not really. At least, there is a lot about me that could be a lot better.” Peter was at a loss for words. You had obviously mulled this over and were solid in your opinion. 

“I don’t think there is. I think you are perfect. I love everything about you.” He said softly, his voice missing its usual teasing tone.

“But-” You started, but cut yourself off. 

“But what?” Your argumentative boyfriend was back. “C’mon. Talk to me, baby.”

“I just-” You gathered your thoughts as best you could. He was really being difficult. There was no way he hadn’t noticed something. You also really did not want to say your insecurities out loud. It was too raw. But you knew Peter, and he wouldn’t back off without you giving something. “My stomach isn’t flat.” You said, as if that was enough argument for you being disgusting. 

“Okay?” He actually laughed at this, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “And?” 

You rolled your eyes, irritated. “And, in general I’m just too big. And my skin isn’t good either. It just doesn’t all add up very well does it?” You resisted the urge to cry, you didn’t want to add that on top of this already stressful discussion. 

“Sweetheart,” He looked exasperated. “I think- I think you’re being really mean and unfair to yourself.” He searched for the right words. “Everyone has things about themselves they don’t like, yeah? But you should know, you are not too anything, and there is nothing about your looks or body that is ‘not good.’’ He said every word firmly. “And most importantly, there is nothing, absolutely nothing about your body that I dislike, or that you should worry about me seeing or touching, okay?” His voice was soft during the last few sentences, like he was speaking to a little kid with a scraped knee. It made it a lot harder to resist crying. “Okay?” he said, still looking directly into your eyes. 

“Okay.” You said, watery. You swallowed hard and buried your face in his chest, feeling all too many emotions. “Thank you, Pete.” You didn’t think you could say anything else without falling apart. 

“It’s okay. I'ts alright. It’s what I’m here for.” He stroked the back of your head, still being gentle. “Just do me a favor, yeah?” 

“Mhm?” You muffled.

“Just, make my job easier for me next time. Tell me when you’re feeling like this, okay baby?” He pleaded as he pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“Okay. I will.” 

“Good. Now cuddle me please.” Demanding Peter was back. “And put all your weight on me, it’s no good otherwise.” 

[keerysfreckles]

kinda really into a bestfriends w/ no boundaries with tasm!peter 👀

andrew’s just seems the touchiest haha <33

touchy feely fool – peter parker (tasm)

pairing: tasm!peter x bff gn!reader

warnings: use of y/n, no specific pronouns mentioned, PETER FLUFF!!!!!!!!

a/n: IM BACK POOKIES RAAHHH

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

"peter!"

"y/n!"

you laugh, "why are you being so touchy today? i have to study for kaminksy's test."

"you're the smartest student in our grade. everyone knows you'll pass," peter responds, not daring to move his arms from hanging loosely around your neck.

"plus, you promised we'd have our movie night tonight, since someone bailed last weekend," he added.

"not really my fault i got sick pete," you answer, gaining a small chuckle out of the boy.

peter rests his chin on top of your head, watching as you continue writing flashcards for biology.

"are you almost done?" peter whines.

you giggle at his impatience, "i have four more cards peter. think you can wait that long?"

peter lets out a grumble for an answer, before flopping backwards onto your bed.

twelve minutes pass and just as promised, you stand from your desk chair to face peter. the boy instantly lights up, "are you done?"

you nod, "yes pete, now what movie do you want-"

before you can even get your question out, you feel your body being lifted off the ground. you can't help but laugh as you realize peter's holding you by your waist and running down your hallway towards your living room.

"peter!" your laughter continues, until he places you on the couch. "was that really necessary?" you move any hair that got in your face from the moment prior.

"yes, it was absolutely necessary," peter simply answers, before kneeling down and looking through the dvds beside the tv stand.

"you're an idiot parker," you can't help but smile.

peter smiles, "your favorite idiot."

[webslingingslasher]

Frat Peter and he's all cocky, but he gets really shy when you're around and his friends keep teasing him about his little crush and how he's putty in your hands and you don't even know?

god i love him so much

“Your girls here, parker.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, as much as he denies no one believes him. You’re not his girl, not by a long shot but god does he wish you were. The jab still couldn’t stop him from swiveling his neck, sure enough you were laughing with friends, your wide smile made him smile too. You looked so pretty, he’s never seen someone fill out clothes the way you do. 

He needs to find a way to talk to you, it started as group partners and he may have played a little dumb to get you to study with him, just for some one on one time. Since then you’ve gotten closer, and everyday he feels more and more like a lovesick puppy. He’d do anything you ask, just so he can prove he could make you happy. 

“Pong, let’s go, parker.” 

Peter wants to whine like a toddler, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on you. Not that he needs to, and definitely not to scare off a potential suitor, he just wants to make sure you’re safe, that’s all. He looks you over again, you’re with friends and he thinks you’ll be alright. 

Right before he can turn back to his brothers your eyes flicker up, meeting his you send a grin. Peter’s been caught, he’s been looking over you for a minute and that smile said ‘caught you,’ it made his cheeks warm, a faint blush coats his cheeks and you can’t help but watch as his friends hoop and shake his shoulders, causing him to nearly run to the garage for a game of beer pong. 

Peter doesn’t know how long he’s been playing. He knows it’s been about three games, and he’s trying to act the perfect amount of buzzed. What he does know is that time stopped when you came looking for him, his ears picking up on your fluttery soft voice pushing for apologies.

“Do you know where peter is?” 

Wasted white girl looks appalled you asked, “who the fuck is peter?” 

“Oh. Um, parker?” 

Wasted white girl drags out an ‘oh,’ then points in his general direction, you raise on tiptoes, looking over the shoulders in the cramped room, catching sight of his snapback, turned backwards. You started to make your decent, politely excusing yourself and apologizing when you rub up against someone. 

You think about tapping his shoulder, but you’re a menace. You tug at his hat, pulling it off his head, before you can complete the task his hand grips your wrist, a dull tone comes from his mouth. 

“Don’t do that.” 

Your hand drops, you didn’t know there was a boundary there. 

“I’m sorry!” 

His head whips to yours, wide eyed and flushed. 

“I didn’t know it was you! You can do that, you have my permission.” 

His teammate, Ethan, if you remember correctly, coughed into his hand, one word slipping from his mouth made Peter jerk his shoulder into his. “Simp.” 

You furrow your eyebrows, “peter’s not a simp, that’s mean. You should say sorry.” 

Ethan is having fun, “oh trust me, if you knew what I know, you would call him a simp too.” Peter, in a panic, rips his hat off his head and throws it on yours, it falls over your eyes, you fix it with enough time to watch Peter mumble out “watch it,” before directing all his attention on you. 

“Looking good.” 

You do a spin for him, “think I can pledge next year?” 

“You have my vote.” 

Ethan had to bite back another simp comment. 

“Can you do me a favor?” 

Rushed, “anything.” 

Ethan can’t help his snort, he tries to hide it behind clearing his throat. 

Peter wants to kill his friend. 

“I’ve been ditched and I really have to pee, so would you mind watching my drink?” 

Peter holds out a hand to take it, his palm covering the open mouth. “It would be my honor.” 

You smile at him, “thanks, be right back.” 

“Five minutes and I come looking.” 

That was new, it was protective. It made you feel warm and safe inside, he was a really good friend. You promised you would be back, but the line was longer than you expected and you were unable to complete the task in just a few minutes. 

Peter kept count, and like he said, went looking. Ethan’s pissed that they’ve now lost the game to a forfeit, all because Peter was head over heels in a gushy crush. You bound down the steps in time to see Peter getting aggravated by his friend, you couldn’t help but overhear.

“You know this is super entertaining, right?” 

“Shut up, Ethan.” 

“It’s adorable. The way you run after her, bending to her will. Who knew parker had a bitch in him.” 

In one quick motion Peter had him pinned to the wall. 

“Don’t ruin this for me. I’m gonna make a move, alright? She makes me nervous and I’m not used to this, okay?” 

“Ask her on a fucking date, I’d put a thousand on the line she’d say yes.” 

You wonder who he’s talking about, you have more than an inkling it’s you but Peter’s never seemed interested, just a good friend. It must have been someone else. 

“I’m not betting on Y/N, I like her too much.” 

Oh fuck. He is talking about you, and it makes you warm and fuzzy all over. 

Ethan is right, you would say yes. 

You duck your head down, pressing against the bars on the stairway. 

“I’m okay with you betting on me, take the grand and then take me out on a nice date.” 

Peter’s eyes blew up, he wanted to punch Ethan. He also wanted to thank him. 

“It’s not like that!” Peter feels his brain melt, stop talking, why are you talking?  

You frown, “it’s not?” 

Ethan tries to push his head against the wall, his chin poking up high to get a view of you crouched down. “It is like that, you heard him.” He gags when Peter presses his forearm against his throat, it’s not meant to hurt, just silence. 

“Well, if it is like that, and I make you nervous, there really isn’t a need cause I would say yes.” 

Peter’s arm drops, “come here.” 

Ethan takes this as his moment to escape, you watch the stairs as you follow them down, narrowly missing a spilled beer. Peter meets you at the bottom of the staircase, he hands you over the drink he’d been watching. 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem.” 

You blinked at the boy, he stood there and looked at his hat on your head. You waited until it started to get awkward. 

“If you don’t ask, I will, then I’ll have ripped the rights from you. You’ll have to tell our grandkids you chickened out.” 

That doesn’t sound bad to him, but he thinks the least he can do is get the words out. 

“I would really, really like to take you out for dinner, is that okay?” 

You chew your cheek, “what’s your policy on kissing before the first date?” 

“It should be a thing.” 

You bite your lower lip to hide your smile, it didn’t work. 

“Wanna make it a thing?” 

[literaila]

I'd love to request a reader who's obsessed with love languages (me fr) and is trying to figure out what peter's is without directly asking him

obviously r gets caught in the act

Thank you so much!!

-🔮

stalemate

tasm!peter x reader

warnings: teasing, fluff, complex relationship issues (lying)

a/n: i do believe peter’s love language is physical touch/words of affirmation but that’s a conversation for a different time

*

“would you rather run errands with someone and hold hands, or run errands with someone and get kicked out of the store cause you’re ‘disturbing the other customers?’”

peter momentarily pauses his chewing, raising an eyebrow at you. “one of these scenarios involves me getting escorted out of the grocery store.”

“yeah, but because you’re having too much fun.”

he shakes his head. “no such thing.”

“clearly, there is.”

he rifles through the remainder of his food, like digging for gold, but his cheek is twitching, and his eyes are thoughtful as he looks down. “why cant i have fun and hold hands with you?”

“okay,” you point at him, leaning back. peter, though you’d put his food across the kitchen table, so you could sit face to face, was adamant that you were too far. so now there’s only a table corner separating the two of you. and these questions, of course, building up a careful foundation. “first of all, i didn’t say it was me—“

“who else would get us kicked out of a grocery store?”

“and second of all, because that’s not the question. holding hands or ribs-hurt laughing?”

“both of those sound equally painful,” peter keeps leaning towards you like he knows something you don’t. which he doesn’t.

you lean forward too, undeterred by his challenge. “so you’re a completely-silent-errand-running-with-a-healthy-five-foot-distance kinda guy?”

“we literally went shopping today.” peter gestures back to the kitchen, where bags of produce and sugary containers (peter’s pickings) remain. after dinner, you’d both swore, but you’re having a hard time finishing your food. “you know what kinda guy i am.”

so it goes, on and on. you asking peter the same type of hypothetical questions you’d been all day. he hasn’t seemed to question it, besides a couple of ill-fated looks.

and you do. know, that is. peter did almost get you kicked out of the store today, when he’d tripped over a sign and knocked down a whole shelf of boxes. this, he claimed, was the crime of a faulty layout. though, he’d bumped into the sign in the first place because he refused to let go of your hand, even when it was less than conscientious.

this, though, you don’t bring up.

“if i bought you a gift,” you continue, ignoring his carefully planned out bantering techniques. “would you want something expensive, or something heart-felt?”

“why is that a question?”

you stare at him, nonchalant, gesturing for him to continue.

“are you buying me a gift?” he asks, rolling his eyes at you.

“maybe. your birthday’s coming up.”

“it is november,” he says, dryly.

“good memory.”

peter snorts. “my birthday is in august. you know, like, two months ago?”

“hmm…” you lean your chin on a hand, staring into hard honeysuckle eyes with feigned confusion. “i must’ve missed it.”

“you got me a spider-man calendar.”

“don’t recall.”

“i can go get it,” he points over his shoulder, leaning, again, towards you. enough so that you can feel his breath, smooth and challenging. “it’s just in the bedroom.”

“answer the question.”

he sighs and leans back again, almost laughing. “heartfelt, obviously. like my very cherished spider-man calendar. which is for this year, i might add.”

“what a wonderful gift,” you smile too, adoringly, “you should thank whoever got it for you.”

peter furrows his brows, though not in confusion. “i did,” he says, softly, trying to break you.

but you remain where you are, smiling as cool as you’ve been all day.

which is to say, of course, that you’ve been dancing circles around peter and hoping that he hasn’t noticed.

you hadn’t even thought of it until two days ago, when out to lunch with your friend and she mentioned a book—fabled and probably recommended by some hot-shot magazine—about how to connect with your partner.

“love languages,” she’d said to you, “are the basis to every relationship.”

and this must have been true because despite a rough patch between her and her girlfriend, they were now as solid as always. and you could tell this, just from how at ease she’d seemed.

which, naturally, put you on edge.

not that you doubted peter, or your relationship with him. besides some run of the mill insecurities, peter was probably the loveliest person you’d ever met. so it was probably a bad thing that you had no clue—not a single suspicion, or thought—what his love language was.

thus, the questions began. and peter’s dubiousness doubled with every one you asked.

evident because he was still watching you. “are we acting out a scenario in which you need a visa and i agree to marry you?”

you kick him under the table. “what? i cant ask you questions?”

“i think this is the fortieth one today.”

“i’ve asked, like, three, and you haven’t even tried to answer any of them properly.”

“you know we’re in a real relationship, right? i know your favorite color and everything.”

you stand up from the table, grabbing your take-out container, and his, and walking to the kitchen.

peter trails after you, clearly noticing your evasion. “do you actually need a visa?” he asks, leaning against a counter, almost knocking over one of the grocery bags. “cause i think you’re supposed to tell the person you’re getting married to. so i can ask you some questions.”

“doesn’t seem like you’re having any problems with that.”

peter snorts and comes behind you while you grab something out of the first bag. his hands are warm as they wrap around your waist, resting on your stomach like a possession. “what’s up with you?”

“i’m unbagging the groceries.”

“you’ve been acting weird all day. do you need to talk to me about something?”

“no.” you pull away from him, putting some apples in the fruit bowl. “you’re crazy.”

“yes. i am the crazy one.”

you hum and walk around him, carefully not meeting his eyes.

after a couple minutes of this, with peter pretending to put things away, you break, uncomfortable with the silence.

“painting a room together,” you start, “or cuddling?”

peter pushes off of the counter, his teeth peaking behind his lips. “cuddling, obviously. you’re a terrible painter.”

he moves about a foot away from you, staring, again, like he knows something you don’t.

“what?” you ask him, closing a drawer. you cross your arms.

“nothing. nothing.”

but peter is grinning at you.

“what’s with your face?”

“what’s with yours?”

you roll your eyes at him, not moving. peter copies your stance, and the two of you remain as still as statues, testing one another.

finally, peter laughs. “you think i don’t know what you’re doing?”

“posing hypothetical questions?”

“i know what love languages are, baby,” peter steps closer to you. his hands just lingering by the seam of your shirt. “you’d make a terrible detective.”

despite the heat running through your body at being caught, you narrow your eyes at him. “me? it only took you all day to figure it out.”

“that’s cause i was giving you the benefit of the doubt. i thought you really wanted to know.”

“i do,” you cross your arms, bumping into him, offended. “i would’ve given up like three hours ago if i didn’t.”

“you’re crazy,” he says, simply. his look is amorous. “you could’ve just asked me.”

“no. i should know just from spending time with you. that’s couple 101.”

peter actually laughs. right in your face. he leans down, resting his chin against your head for support. “cant say i’ve ever taken that class.”

“well you should. it’s very informative.”

“okay, professor, then what’s my love language?”

you open your mouth. then close it. you push him back. “i’m not telling you.”

“oh,” peter tilts his head. “why not?”

“cause that’s cheating. figure out your own love language.”

“you think i don’t know what i like?”

“nope.”

peter shakes his head at you. “you just don’t know.”

“you just don’t know,” you poke his cheek. “you couldn’t even decide which cereal to get. we have three boxes now.”

“that’s called choice paralysis,” he informs you, as if you didn’t have this conversation earlier. “and you agreed to that.”

“sure,” you say to him, turning away.

“you’re a sore loser.”

“we’re not playing a game.”

“the elaborate ‘would you rather’ scheme wasn’t a game?” he asks.

“it was an informative questionnaire.”

peter gets in your way as you try to walk out of the kitchen. “then why hasn’t it informed you?”

you roll your eyes at him again. “c’mon, peter, you know that data can take weeks to process.”

he runs a hand up to your face, easily trapping you. “you just don’t know” he repeats softly.

he’s getting close again; resuming the game he’d lost earlier.

“you don’t know,” you say, stubbornly, not meeting his eyes.

“i know i like you,” he answers, breath marring your reaction skills.

and before you can even smile in response, peter is kissing you.

his lips are soft, pushing at you like he wants you to admit defeat. consoling you into a loss. convincing you to back down.

but you refuse.

you pull away, pushing his hand off of you. “that’s cheating.”

“we never set any rules.”

“well you’re breaking one.”

peter leans and let’s it go, crossing his arms as he looks at you, very arrogantly. “that’s okay,” he shrugs.

you attempt to catch your breath while peter stares at you, clearly thinking that he’s won.

“okay,” you say, pouting. “tell me. what’s your love language?”

peter smiles voraciously at this. he takes a step towards you, molding his body heat into yours.

then he shakes his head, his smile falling into something sweeter. “i don’t know,” he whispers to you, hand reaching down for yours, hair in his eyes. “physical touch, probably, before. but i like everything with you. i always want more, doesn’t matter what it is.”

you brush the hair out of his eyes, smiling.

though your intents are less than straightforward, there’s still a part of you that curls under this confession, like it just can’t take it.

“that’s sweet,” you whisper, leaning into him. he’s bent down so his nose is to yours.

peter hums, breathing in the smell of your skin, and pulling you closer and he stands there, lingering on the briefest of touches.

he tilts his head a bit, lips lined up with yours.

and you smile. “i’m not telling you mine,” you whisper to him, quickly pulling away and moving to the table, whistling as you do so.

you start to collect the trash you’d left there, hearing nothing for a moment, but peter’s heavy breathing.

you smile at the sound of his defeat.

“now that’s cheating,” he says, and you laugh.

*

[petersparkerrs]

stress remedy

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

- pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

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

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

- word count: 1.7k

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

—————————————୨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s get you to bed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[loverangels]

studying

pairings: tasm!peter x fem!reader

synopsis: you've been studying too hard and peter claims he knows a way how to help you relax....

The table is a war zone of textbooks, flashcards, and crumpled-up papers. Your laptop hums faintly, its screen covered in tabs upon tabs of lecture slides, practice quizzes, and YouTube tutorials that are supposed to help you understand this mess. But all it’s doing is making your head spin. Highlighter clenched between your teeth, you scribble furiously in the margins of your notes, the weight of finals week crushing you like a boulder.

You don’t even notice Peter standing in the doorway, watching you with his usual mix of amusement and fondness. His hoodie sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, and his hair is delightfully messy from whatever project he abandoned to come check on you. “Lovey,” he calls softly, but you don’t answer, too lost in your spiral of academic doom.

Peter takes it as his cue to come closer, his footsteps barely making a sound. Suddenly, you feel warm hands on your shoulders, and before you can protest, his lips are brushing against the side of your neck. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice so soft it’s almost a purr. “How’s my favorite genius doing?”

You groan, tilting your head away from him to focus on your notes. “Peter, I don’t have time for this. Finals are next week, and I’m going to fail if I don’t—”

“You’re not gonna fail,” he interrupts, trailing another kiss just under your ear. His hands squeeze your shoulders gently, working out a knot you didn’t even know was there. “You’re way too smart for that.”

“Peter,” you scold, finally twisting to glare at him. “I mean it! I’ve got, like, five chapters to get through tonight alone, and if you keep distracting me, I’m seriously—seriously—going to fail!”

Peter just grins, entirely unbothered by your threats. “Sweetheart,” he coos, leaning down so his lips are practically brushing your ear, “my smart girl could ace these finals with her eyes closed.”

You groan, letting your head fall into your hands. “I’m not your smart girl right now. I’m your stressed-out, on-the-verge-of-a-breakdown girl.”

He crouches down beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he peers at your color-coded chaos. “You’re overthinking, lovey. You always do. You’ve been studying for weeks. You’ve got this, I promise.”

You sigh, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “It’s not overthinking, it’s being prepared. I just—ugh, I don’t know. I’m stressing, okay?”

Peter’s silent for a beat, but you don’t trust the look on his face for one second. That mischievous little smirk is forming, the one that makes your stomach flip in equal parts dread and anticipation. “I think,” he starts, his voice dropping to a playful drawl, “I know a way to help you relax.”

You whirl on him, narrowing your eyes. “Peter Benjamin Parker, don’t you—”

But it’s too late. In one swift motion, he pulls you out of your chair and into his arms, peppering kisses across your face and neck as you squirm. “Pete!” you yelp, laughing despite yourself. “Stop it! I’m serious!”

“I’m serious too!” he counters, grinning against your skin. “Serious about making sure my girl doesn’t burn herself out. I’ll even quiz you later, but right now? You’re taking a break.”

You try to scold him again, but he’s got that stupidly endearing look in his eyes, the one that makes it impossible to stay mad at him. And when he finally sets you down, his hair even messier than before and his smirk utterly smug, you realize he’s right. Maybe finals aren’t so impossible after all. Especially with Peter Parker by your side, distracting you in the best way possible.

[spiderfunkz]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[cosmal]

✪ — oh em gee what about ❛ this is a good look for you. ❜ with peter parker

stained

summary — peter spills a drink on your top at a party.

content — tasm!peterparker x fem!afab!reader, mentions of nudity

note — sorry this is super short! more of a baby blurb!

You sit on the edge of the toilet, naked from the waist up, while Peter is hunched over the bathroom sink, scrubbing at your shirt.

"Peter, just leave it, I'll wash it at home," you say softly. He looks really determined.

He'd spilt his drink all over your top downstairs at the party you're at. He'd felt horrible and insisted that he could get the stain out in the sink. The green stain out of your white top.

Turns out dawn soap and lukewarm water don't do the job. "I'm sorry, baby, really," he frets, holding the top up where it drips into the sink. You're not sure if he's made it better or worse. You appreciate him nonetheless.

"Pete, thank you, really," you start, shifting uncomfortably over the plastic lid. You cross your arms over your chest, where your bra digs into your skin, and look at the wet mess Peter holds in his hands. "It's okay. But now I have no top."

Peter drops the shirt looking really guilty. He feels horrible because he's ruined one of your favourite tops and he's also the reason you're half-naked in some random condo.

"Shit," he curses to himself.

He doesn't think twice. Peeling his jacket off, he stands at your knees and holds it out. "Here," he says bashfully. It's a thin jacket, made of nothing really. It's all you've got and you're not about to start complaining.

You stand to slip it on and hate it when you realise it has no zipper. Or any buttons. You pull it taut over your front and start to feel anxious. "Can you see anything?"

He pulls the collar forwards over your collarbones and smooths it out over your shoulders. "You're safe," he smiles. You watch his throat bob under the skin of his lightly stubbled neck. "It, uh, it looks really good."

"Pete," you groan while tipping your head back. "I'm naked, in the middle of the city, wearing my clumsy boyfriend's jacket, and you're getting turned on?"

"What?" he gawps, clearing his throat, "I am not! You just suit it, that's all."

You pull it tight around your middle and roll your eyes. "You're unbelievable."

He plays with the hem between his fingers, keeping his eyes planted to the floor momentarily. "It's a good look on you."

You straighten your back and ignore the way he's making you feel. Time and place you remember. "Right, we're going outside unnoticed and you're gonna hail a cab with those long arms of yours."

"You don't wanna swing home?" he asks.

"You don't have your shit," you grumble. It'd be convenient, but also reckless.

"My shit? You mean my suit?" he laughs, wrapping a hand around the hinge of your elbow. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that because I deserve it."

Peter makes sure you're decent before he opens the door to the bathroom. You stand behind him, hanging off his arm, hoping his broad shoulders will do you a favour and hide you well.

There's a drunk guy on the other side for the toilet presumably. Peter moves to the side to shield you on instinct when you squeak out a surprised noise. You push your chest against him to cover the slip of skin that struggles to be covered by the jacket, and let Peter guide you down the hall.

You lean in to whisper in his ear, "You owe me, Parker."

You get out onto the street when he says, "I'll show you how sorry I am when we get home."