#tasm!peter parker au
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bruisedboys · 1 year ago
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───── marshmallow . . . send in a character from the guestlist + an aesthetic, concept, trope, or colour and I’ll make a moodboard!
photographer! tasm!peter x muse!reader would be sooo cute
blair!!!! this is so cute omg I had sm fun making this
tasm!peter parker x muse!reader
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‘polaroid of you dancing in my room.’ ♡
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moonstruckme · 2 years ago
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In a Week - send a character + au and I'll write a blurb for it (like vampire!Eddie, bodyguard!Sirius, etc.)
college au tasm!peter who's a photographer for the college newspaper and reader is a writer?
Thanks for requesting gorgeous!
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photographer!(tasm)Peter Parker x reporter!reader ♡ 761 words
“Peter, these are gorgeous,” you breathe, leafing through the pictures he’s brought you of the protest near campus. “I mean, it’s heartbreaking, and they show that, but they’re so…just, great job.” 
Peter grins, leaning against your desk with a smile that’s half-sheepish, but you can tell he’s proud of his work. He should be. “Thanks,” he says. “Did you already write the article? This is supposed to go out tomorrow, right?” 
You bite your lip. “I did,” you admit, “but now I’m thinking I’ve got some editing to do. There’s so much emotion in these, I feel like you’ve definitely upped the bar for my writing.” You say it as if it’s a joke, but really you mean it, and Peter frowns like he can tell. 
“Your writing’s amazing, and you always kill these kinds of community-minded, emotional stories.” He nudges your chair with his knee, reprimanding. “Don’t sell yourself short. Can I read what you have?”
You hesitate. Letting someone else read your work before it’s finished always feels weirdly vulnerable, even when you’re mostly reporting on facts. You haven’t picked the exact right words yet, phrased your ideas the way that’ll convey them to readers exactly like you want, but Peter’s eyes are soft and warm in the light from your desk lamp, and he always gets what he wants out of you in the end. 
You turn your laptop toward him, letting him scroll freely. 
Peter stoops over your desk, and he nods as he reads, eyes moving quickly over the typed lines. You’re doing your best not to look like you’re watching him, but you grow uneasy when a crease appears between his eyebrows. At first it’s shallow, then not so much. 
“Wow,” Peter breathes as he finishes, looking up at you like you’ve broken his heart. Whatever you’ve done, you’re immediately sorry for it. “That was…shit, you don’t have to worry about missing the mark on emotion. The passion in that, it was incredible, sweetheart.” 
Your heart jumps from your stomach right up to your throat. Sweetheart. 
“You really think so?” you ask, then realize it sounds like you’re fishing for compliments. “I mean, you didn’t think the ending was too abrupt?” 
Peter shakes his head as he straightens, still looking somewhat awed. “No, I don’t think you should change anything. You really made me feel it, you know? It was so powerful.” 
You hope the dim light is hiding the flush you can feel coming to your cheeks. “It’s a powerful topic,” you say, taking back your laptop and skimming over the draft. “You can feel how much the protestors care, from both the interviews and the pictures.” Your finger hesitates above the trackpad. “You don’t think it felt too long, though?” 
Peter makes a scoffing sound, and you look up to find him grinning at you incredulously. “Stop,” he says, shutting your laptop for you carefully. “You know what I think? I think it’s too late to still be here. Your draft is already perfect, you should go home.” 
You frown, glancing out the window. It had gotten dark without you even really noticing. “Yeah, I guess I will,” you concede. “You should, too.” 
“I am,” he says, but doesn’t move. Neither do you, sensing that he has something more he wants to say. Peter fiddles with his backpack strap. “Hey, have you had dinner yet?”
You shake your head. “I’ve been here since just after lunch.” 
“That’s too long,” he laughs. “Would you let me take you for something to eat?”
You all but freeze, looking up at him. He’s as lovely as he always is, hair fluffy from constantly dragging his hand through it and features softened in the lamplight. Your mouth is dry, and still you swallow. “Like…like as friends, or…?” 
Peter’s smile is actually shy. “I was thinking as a date, but only if you want it to be. I don’t want to make things weird, if—”
“No,” you say quickly. “No, a date is good. I’d…I’d like that.” 
Peter grins so hugely that even his eyes get in on the action, creasing at the corners. “Yeah? Nice.” Then you grab your laptop, and those eyes narrow suspiciously. “You’re not going to keep working on that, are you?”
“At dinner? No,” you reassure him, stuffing the computer into your bag. “But after I get home, yeah. I still have some edits I want to make.” 
He exhales, and it’s half exasperation, half amusement. “You’re relentless,” he says, opening the door for you. 
“Like I said, you set a high bar.”
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sincericida · 1 year ago
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I reread "Another Love" because the masterpieces must be reread and reblogged. Read!
Another Love - tasm!peter parker x f!reader (3/3)
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a/n: well, here we are. almost 50k words later and we are at the final part of this crazy brain-child i had one day after i knew i would be doing an april au event over on @spidervee’s page. i’ve loved every minute of it. also, definitely the first time i’ve written this much in a long time. or ever, for that matter.
warnings: 18+ to be safe - minors dni. blood. gore. typical time period violence. i’ve also mentioned pregnancy multiple times in previous chapters, so just want to throw out that it is mentioned. briefly. and peter and reader are parents by the end. also mentioned only briefly, as i know not everyone is into that. but it is a royal!au and heirs are a thing. 
cross-posted on my ao3. 
| PART ONE | PART TWO | MASTER LIST |
*
“holy water cannot help you now,
see i’ve come to burn your kingdom down.”
seven devils - florence + the machine
*
Time was a fickle thing. One moment, you were careless and free. Troubles all a faraway memory. Thoughts pushed far from your mind, focused instead on the present. 
Of running through fields. Dancing beneath firelight. Whispering poetry against wine drunk ears. Playing chess in no more than a fur cloak to cover your form. Hot eyes trailing along bare flesh. Of plush pillows and heated hands. Of pleasure so deep, it made your head swirl. Dragged beneath the depths of it. A breathless surrender. 
Even then, you knew it to have been limited. Merely shards of sand falling through an hourglass. Counting down until this very moment. 
You had two months. Two months of wedded bliss at last. Selfishly, it wasn’t enough. 
You kept repeating those words in your mind as Peter dragged you back to the garrison. Lifting your armor he had fitted for you when you began training. Helped you into it as you stared off into the distance. 
Not enough time. 
I am out of time…
Continuar lendo
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months ago
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i dare you
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a/n: for all of you hoes who are also hot for teacher, bon appetit, bitch ♡
summary: “no, I was thinking a little something else,” a mischievous grin slowly twisted up his lips, “how about, if we win, then you have to make a move on that professor,” he goaded, “but if you win, then we’ll–, I don’t know, what would you like?” 
warnings: professor!peter parker x innocent!reader, smut, dark content, college au, polyamory, student/teacher relationship, forbidden romance, age gap, dilf!peter, babysitting, alcohol consumption, kissing, corruption kink, car sex, semi-public sex, voyeurism, panty sniffing, dirty talk, hair pulling, masturbation, fingering
word count: 3611
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, intro to the au
masterlist | join my taglist 
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Staying back, you watched in your periphery as the other students slowly filtered out of the lecture hall, though your gaze stayed glued to the teacher as he packed up his things down by the wide chalkboard.
Professor Parker’s back was turned to you as you neared, and a murmur quickly rolled off your tongue, “professor, I just wanted to–,” but then as he whirled around, unaware of how close you had crept, his frame bumped directly into yours, and the half-empty cup of cold coffee in his grasp jostled in the clash and splashed down upon the both of you.
“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed as his eyes first flickered down to the large stain on his shirt before they blinked up to discover who was to blame.
“I am so sorry, oh no…” you gasped as you stared back at his ruined button-down, the sodden state of your own clothing not seeping through your guilt yet. 
“It’s–,” the flash of anger that had momentarily sparked was swiftly squashed when his gaze fell upon you, “it’s alright,” he exhaled as his shoulders relaxed, “I have some spare clothes in my office.”
“Really?”
“Habit of being a dad,” he shrugged as he picked up his leather satchel, “this is not the first time I’ve spilt something on myself. Come, you can borrow one as well. I’m guessing you don’t want to walk around campus like that,” he faintly nodded to your t-shirt as his eyes fought not to stare. 
“What?” you finally glanced down at yourself and noticed how the soaked coffee stain had turned the thin cotton of your shirt nearly transparent, “oh…” heat swiftly began to rise in your cheeks for a different reason other than just the mortification of the clumsy collision, “oh my god…” 
Though you only shrugged on the button-down he handed you once you stepped inside of his office, merely covering up the sheer state of your shirt enough for you to get back to your dorm and change, your heart began to hammer in your chest as he absentmindedly stripped off his ruined shirt and didn’t realise what he had done till half of the buttons on the fresh one was fastened. 
“So,” he swiftly cleared his throat as you struggled to blink away from the sliver of his chest that he hastily covered back up, “what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?” 
“Hm?” you hummed, fearing drool might be leaking down your chin by now. 
“When I walked into you,” he reminded your foggy head, “you started saying something, so what was it?” 
“Oh, that…” an airy chuckle puffed out of your lungs as you averted your gaze, “it’s so silly now…” and you tugged open your backpack and reached into it before you uttered, “I know it’s cliche, but I brought you an apple…” 
“Oh,” a smile warmed up the older man’s features as you plucked the fruit out of your bag and held it for him to grasp, “that’s cute.”
Once in his hand, he twisted around to place it delicately in the middle of the cluttered desk behind him. 
“You know, now that you’re here,” he began before he turned back to face you, “I wanted to talk to you about maybe looking after Benjamin again.” 
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“I dare you.” 
“What? No!” you shrieked at Andy as he cracked open another beer for himself, “he’s my professor!”
“So? That shouldn’t stop you,” he cocked a brow, “go ask Billy, he’s screwed more faculty members than I can recall,” he nodded to the frat guy currently propped up against the far side wall, chatting up some girl as the party buzzed around him, “come on, you said you have a crush on him.”
“Oh my god,” you swiftly buried your head in your hands, “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Well, then maybe don’t play truth or dare if you’re gonna be such a baby about the things you share,” he only chuckled in return. 
Marc then draped an arm around your shoulders and boomed over the music, “you should go for it!”
“Stop, I’m not gonna seduce him,” you crawled out of hiding with a groan, “I’m not some siren.” 
“No, but you are a hot little freshman, which is pretty damn close,” Marc smirked as you met his gaze. 
A head then poked through the open doorway before it swivelled to find you, “hey, there you guys are,” Scott waved a hand, “we’re up.”
“Oh, finally,” Andy exhaled before you all began to shift into the room in the fraternity where the beer pong table was permanently set up in, “who won last round?”
“Curtis and Bucky,” Scott cocked his head as you settled in beside him on one end of the table while the two others migrated towards the opposite side. 
“Aw, man…” Marc swiftly sighed, “they’re probably gonna take the crown again…”  
And as you all prepared the table for another game, lining cups up in triangles on either end, Andy’s voice then found your ears as you grasped the small ping pong balls in your palm, ready for your first toss.  
“Wait, how about we make this a little more interesting?”
Furrowing your brow, you shifted the lightweight sphere from one hand to the other, “interesting how? I don’t wanna put money on this, if that’s what you mean. My stepfather, and by proxy Steve, may be rich assholes, but that doesn’t mean I am…” 
“No, I was thinking a little something else,” a mischievous grin slowly twisted up his lips, “how about, if we win, then you have to make a move on that professor,” he goaded, “but if you win, then we’ll–, I don’t know, what would you like?” 
“Oh, wait, I get to choose something?” your eyes couldn’t help but widen at the temptation.
“Yeah.” 
Mulling it over, you then uttered, “…well, my notes for pretty much all of my classes are really messy… so, if I win, then you guys could organise them all,” you pointed at both of your competitors with a smile, “rewrite them in nice legible handwriting, colour code it and everything.” 
“Seriously?” Andy promptly squinted at you as a look of disappointment washed over his features. 
“That's what I want.” 
“You know you could have had anything, or anyone, as a prize, and you chose that?” 
“What?” you blinked back at him as if you were a puppy, “it’s what I want.” 
“Alright then,” a chuckle slipped through his sigh, “game on.” 
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“Oh, hey. You’re back,” you uttered as you picked your nose out of the textbook cracked open on your professor’s dining table and glanced up to spot him waltzing in through the door. He was slightly wet from the brief trek up the driveway and into the house as rain had begun to hammer against the windows. 
“Yeah, that fundraiser dragged on for an eternity…” he sighed as he hung up his coat. Stepping closer to where you sat, he asked, “how did it go here? Is Benji down for the night?” 
“Yep, he’s asleep,” you nodded, “we played outside in the garden,” you smiled as you reported, thinking back to how you and the six-year-old had played hide and seek, “he helped supervise while I made dinner, by the way, there’s still some left over in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet,” you briefly pointed over your shoulder towards the kitchen, “and then we started reading Ronja, the Robber's Daughter as a bedtime story, and just as a fair warning, he is hooked. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wakes up tomorrow morning with a burning desire to run into the woods and pretend that he is the daughter of a viking.” 
Your collective giggles about the child filled the air a moment before it simmered down once more and Peter’s eyes drifted to your homework on the table.  
“And what’s this now?” he planted a hand close to where you sat and leaned in. 
“This is the assignment for your class, but don’t peek yet!” your fingers swiftly grasped the corner of the notebook in front of you before you tilted it mostly shut to hide the scribbled words from his view, “that’s cheating! You’ll just have to be patient and get it next week along with all the others.” 
“I’ll try my best,” he chuckled as he gazed down at you. 
And as you met his eye, your vision soon flickered down to the buttoned-up collar of his shirt before you remembered, “oh hey,” and you dipped down to slip a hand into the backpack you had leaned against the leg of the dining table, “I forgot to give this back to you earlier.”
“Oh, thanks,” his eyebrows floated up a tad as you handed him the shirt you’d borrowed, “I almost forgot about it,” before his fingers drifted up to push his glasses back into place. 
A crack of thunder then ripped both of your attentions to the broad window behind you.
“Wow,” you murmured as you watched a bolt of lightning split through the darkness of the late evening, “it’s really coming down out there…” 
“Yeah…” Professor Parker hummed before his glance shifted to you, “wait, was that your bicycle out front? You can’t ride back in this weather,” his head faintly shook from side to side.  
“Oh, well, you live so close to campus, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 
“Nonsense, I’ll drive you,” he pressed. 
“You really don’t have to, it’s already so late.”
“Young lady, I am giving you a lift and that’s final,” he captured your timid gaze, “I can’t have my best student get sick or struck by lightning.”
Feeling your cheeks heat up, you breathed, “well, when you put it like that…” 
“Let me just go put this away,” he raised the shirt in his hand up slightly, “and then we’ll be on our way.” 
“Great,” you smiled before it promptly dropped as he slipped out of the room. 
It had been the guys who had talked you into shimmying off your panties the next time you were here and placing them on his bedside table to enjoy, though you had all but forgotten about the lack of coverage currently beneath your skirt right until you watched your professor waltz right into the lion’s den. 
“W-wait–,” you tried to stop him, but by the time you parted your lips, he was already long gone. 
And before you even realised it, you had risen from the chair and your feet had begun to tip-toe after him. The dark hallway swallowed you whole as you crept through it towards the open doorway into his bedroom. 
Hiding yourself in the shadows with your fingernails digging into the doorframe as you peeked inside, a silent prayer left your lips as you hoped he’d not notice the tiny ball of folded-up, pastel-blue cotton on the nightstand, at least not while you were still under his roof. 
Though when he’d tossed the shirt into the hamper by his closet, his footsteps faltered when he turned to exit the room. As he stared at the small bundle, it wasn’t till he reached the bedside table that he realised what exactly it was. 
Picking it up, he turned it over in his hand a moment before your palm soared up to clasp over your mouth and silence a gasp as he then raised the pale fabric up even higher till it reached his nose.
Though you knew that you should have, you just couldn’t tear your stare away from him, even after his free hand had squeezed the growing bulge in his pants, after he had freed his fat cock, and even after soft grunts began to tumble up his throat as he let his eyes flutter shut and his tight fist began to stroke his length.
And once he’d gotten himself off, his cum now staining your panties clutched tightly in his grip, he then crumbled them up and stuffed them into his pocket.
Scrambling to rush back to the dining room, you tried to ignore the throbbing between your thighs and the arousal that had begun to leak down them as well from that sinful display. 
When you heard his footsteps echo down the hallway, you packed up your things as quickly as you could, tossing them into your backpack as you tried your best to pretend that nothing had just happened.
Clearing his throat as he entered the room once more, he then murmured, “you ready to go?” 
“Mhm,” you twisted around to face him, however noticed how he refused to meet your eye.
Though you both tried to be hasty as you went out into the storm, strapping your bike to a rack on the back of his car, you were both still completely soaked when the vehicle’s doors closed behind each of you, low exhales acting as punctuations after the slams. 
You tried to recall the long list of tips and tricks your stepbrother’s friends had pushed on you, but your mind went completely blank as all you could think about was the vision of your teacher touching himself before your very eyes. 
And before Peter’s fingers could slip the key in and turn on the engine, you found yourself, in your flustered frenzy, leaning in to press your lips to his own. 
The kiss was rushed and rather clumsy, but you stayed frozen, long enough for your tense shoulder to begin to thaw, though when you finally felt him slip from his stunned state, he only kissed you back for a split second before his hands grasped your shoulders and he tilted you away from him. 
“What are you doing?” he demanded breathlessly as his grip stayed at your upper arms to keep you at a distance. 
“I’m sorry, I just–,” you gasped shakily, “I think I might like you…” 
“Oh fuck…” a long sigh slipped from his lungs as he bowed his head and closed his eyes, “this can’t be happening…”
“I’m sorry, I should have asked first, I just kind of panicked,” you tried, hearing your voice tremble embarrassingly. 
“No, you shouldn’t have asked, because none of this should have happened in the first place,” he swiftly grumbled before he let his touch fade from your arms, “this is all my fault, I shouldn’t have crossed this line, opened my home to you and let you see me as something other than your superior.” 
“Professor,” you shifted in your seat, “I’m sorry that I kissed you, I just thought that you might–”
“Kissed me? Oh, this isn’t just about you kissing me,” a soft scoff bubbled out of him as his head faintly shook, “miss Y/l/n, you can’t just leave your undergarments around for your teacher to find.”
Averting your gaze, you found yourself muttering just beneath your breath, “…well it didn’t look like you minded…”
“What?” he nearly growled, “what did you just say?”
“I–…”
“Were you spying on me?” he accused heatedly. 
“I–, well–,” you panted, “I can explain, it wasn’t my idea–”
“So, what–, this is just some game you’ve got going with your little friends? See who can sleep with a teacher first or something?” 
“No, it’s not,” you frantically shook your head before you had to tilt it in shame, “or well–, some people I know found out about the dumb crush I have on you and then they kinda dared me, gave me some suggestions on what to do…” 
“Oh my god…” he exhaled slowly and averted his gaze, “…okay…” he then enclosed his fingers around the steering wheel, “I am gonna drive you back and then we will both forget that any of this ever happened, you got it?” he said firmly, though the hurt in your eyes he then spotted as you blinked back at him swayed him to take a step back and choose his next words very carefully, “look, you’re a very sweet girl, and I’m flattered, truly, but you don’t want me,” he faintly shook his head as he gazed back into your glossy eyes, “you should go be with someone your own age…”
“Should I?” you innocently uttered in a heartbreaking tone, “just like you shouldn’t be getting off to the thought of your students?” 
Checkmate. 
Slowly, you inched closer to his frozen form, “it’s okay,” you whispered when you leaned so near that your noses nearly touched, “I promise, I won’t tell anyone…”
And then as if something inside of your teacher snapped, he huffed, “fuck…” before he closed the short gap between you both and kissed you fiercely.
It felt as if he was trying to devour you whole as you began to make out in his car, rain still thrashing against the outside as his tongue fluttered against yours for a taste of your youth. 
Your fingers soon drifted up to tangle his soaked tie in your grasp and you found yourself purring meekly against his lips as his own touch floated up your frame, ghostly against your sides, before he cupped your jaw. 
But just as quickly as he had shattered, he once again pulled back, just ever so slightly to murmur, “this is wrong…” his hot breath fanned across your flaming cheeks, “you’re my student…” before you tilted up to steal another peck from him, one so sweet that it prompted him to crumble even further, “h-how old are you? You’re eighteen?” he asked breathlessly before you offered him a faint nod, “you’re eighteen…” he panted through his conflict, “holy fuck…” 
You then kissed him again till his hands gradually began to gain more confidence as they raked across your frame. His touch was bold as it captured your tits, palming the softness through the wet clothing that clung to your curves, making you whimper into his mouth, a sweet sound that caused him to smirk faintly against your lips before he deepened the kiss even further.  
“You can touch me, professor,” you panted as one of his hands soared up to weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, “it’s okay, I want you to.”
With his grip rooted in your hair and keeping you close, he held your eye as he then let one of his palms slowly wander down between your thighs till your skirt gathered around the watch on his wrist and his touch crept up to brush against your bare core. 
Studying the reaction that flashed across your features closely, he groaned, “holy shit…” as your needy nectar soaked his careful touch, “is this for me? Really?” 
“Mhm…” you struggled to nod as his fingertips swept up to graze against your throbbing clit. 
“Fuck…” he shared your breath, “you really had me believing that you were just a good little girl who’d never pull a stunt like this…”
“Well, maybe I am,” you uttered raggedly as his caresses caused you to tremble with every rub and flick he granted you in his exploration of your haven, “maybe I just have some really bad influences in my life.” 
“Yeah, well then lucky me,” two of his long fingers promptly swept down to slip inside of you, making you gasp at the sudden stretch before you squirmed, your legs instinctively wiggling further apart for him, “keep that devil on your shoulder if this is what it gets you.” 
Loosing himself completely, it was as if he was possessed as the kind hearted professor you once knew was no longer the man sitting in the car next to you, certainly not the older doctor who soon began to fuck you with his fingers, making your pussy sing for him, and weep against the leather seat below, as he greedily rocked his digits inside of you. 
Tilting down, he let his lips flutter against the collum of your neck as he murmured, “what else did your friends say you should do to get me to fuck you, huh?”
“They–, they–…” you tried to recall, but simply couldn’t as the sensation of his fingers, dragging in and out of your dripping cunt, rendered it an impossible task to accomplish, “fuck… I don’t know, I don’t remember…” 
“You don’t?” a low chuckle rumbled in his chest at how flustered he’d made you.
“N-no,” your thighs trembled on either side of his hand as it momentarily withdrew to slip up through your soaked petals to offer your puffy pearl a brief rub, before his touch once again soared down to fill you up, “fuck, please don’t stop, that feels so good.” 
“Yeah?” he pressed his nose against your cheek as he gazed down at your pussy, the front of your skirt now pushed up so high on your hips that one merely had to glance to catch sight of the leaky mess now on full display, “you gonna cum?”
“Mhm,” you nodded frantically as your eyes too fluttered down to peer at his fingers, shiny as they pumped within you, and your eyebrows knitted tightly in pleasure as the overwhelming high threatened to come crashing down upon you like an avalanche. 
“Then do it,” the grip he had on the roots of your hair flexed as he then tilted your head slightly for him to capture your hazy gaze, “give me something to think about when I get myself off,” he groaned breathlessly as he kept up his ruthless pace, “cum all over my fingers like a good little girl.” 
And as your cunt clenched down around his digits, your loud moans bounced off the car’s walls, “p-professor–, o-oh fuck!” 
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© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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iridescentparkers · 1 year ago
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lessons in sexting ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
warnings: very suggestive! (18+)
“PETER!” you exclaimed, and he dropped inside of your bedroom window. You lay on your shared bed where you once waited for him to arrive. He yanked off his mask and crawled between your legs, quickly placing his hand along your waist and head buried in your chest. “What’s wrong?”
“I can never go outside again,” he muffled, turning his face to the side as he remained on your chest. 
“What are you talking about?”
He dug around in his pocket before grabbing his phone and scrolling to find a picture of himself. Lying down, his sight refused to meet yours as his head remained turned to the side, and he raised his phone to your face. “Read the text.” 
The photo was quite…shameful. In the photo, the phone was angled downwards towards the bottom half of his thin, sweaty suit. Peter was unbelievably hard and gripping his erection above the material. The upper half of the photo showed Peter’s teeth gripping his mask, drippings of sweat falling down his face. Underneath it was a text that read, “Baby, I miss you <3” 
“I didn’t get this text-” 
“Look up,” he murmured, and you moved your eyes to see that he sent it to Harry. You couldn’t help but laugh, Peter then groaned into your body and placed his hands on his face. 
“Is business rough these days? I didn’t realize Spiderman offered this kind of service.” You laughed, slamming his phone down on the bed. 
“Please.” he began, “He hasn’t responded 'cause it's late but I know he will never let this die.” 
“I don’t know if I will either!” 
“I missed, you!” He exclaimed. “It was getting boring and hot in that suit.”
“If it helps,” you whispered, running your fingers through his unkempt hair. “You looked good.”
“Really good?” He murmured, moving his eyes up to your face before placing kisses on the top of your breasts.
“Mmm hmm,” you hummed, nodding as Peter moved to hover above your body, placing you beneath him as he kissed you deeply. “Really good.”
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shefollowedthestars · 1 month ago
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baker!peter parker who....‧₊˚ 🧁 ⋅ ☆
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baker!peter parker whose recipes are all taken from may and mary's old homemade cookbooks because he wants his bakery and all his desserts inside it to feel like a comfortable and safe space for his customers - he wants it to feel like home.
baker! peter parker whose favorite customers are kids and pets. whenever a little kid comes into the store, he always kneels down to their level, pointing to the display cases and describing the different items for them. peter has social anxiety, but for some reason talking to kids is so easy and natural for him. and whenever a dog comes in he has a special free item (very reminiscent of the pup cup) for the furry friend and you can guarantee peter is petting that dog at every chance he gets.
baker!peter parker whose love language is gift giving. whenever you're feeling down or whenever peter just wants to do something kind for you, he gifts you a tray of sprinkle cupcakes or a bag of raspberry scones. the feeling of coming home from a long and stressful day to your favorite dessert on the counter with a pretty bouquet of flowers is unmatched.
baker!peter parker who is also spiderman, and whenever he saves someone, he brings them back to their house safely, leaving them with a croissant - or two that always makes their face light up. he tells them it's made by his 'buddy' down at the parker bakehouse and the next day he suddenly, soooo surprisingly, has more customers
[ you keep telling him that someday someone is going to find out that peter parker of parker bakehouse is spiderman, because it's so darn obvious, peter! but he refuses to believe you and lives in his own little delusional world ]
baker!peter parker who always shows up to ned's with flour on his face. ned just always stares at him knowingly and peter awkwardly realizes he hasn't cleaned his face since he was at the bakery. he tries to quickly brush it off before you walk in, but you still notice and think it's adorable.
baker!peter parker who is the light of your life and so special to everyone in the community. the bakehouse is the place where anyone in queens can go to and experience a feeling of together-ness. everyone knows and cares for each other there and it's all something that peter has created himself. it's his whole world and he's forever grateful for deciding to start the business up.
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forever-ev · 2 months ago
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Your friendly neighborhood Spider-baby
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Outside your bedroom window the sun is starting to rise, and cars are driving by. Your head lays on Peter's chest and a leg of yours is thrown over him. You start to stir when Peter begins to wake up. Those infamous Spidey Senses are especially helpful right now because he can feel that something is wrong with Charlotte.
"Mornin', bug. I think I hear something in Charlie's room, and it does not sound good at all." He whispers.
You readjust and sit up at that statement.
"Oh shit, you're right."
Both of you practically jog to your daughter's room and fling open the door. Charlotte stands in her crib aggressively shaking it, so aggressively that it's simply unnatural that a baby could do that. Your face contorts in shock, and you look between Peter and your daughter.
"I guess I was right about having a 'Spider baby'." You chuckle.
"Yeah, I know this is our first kid, but I don't think that's normal. If I hadn't secured the crib, she'd be falling on her face from doing that."
Peter walks over to the crib and plucks her right out. She babbles incoherently at him and grabs onto his shirt.
"You can't be doing that, lovebug, you just have to wait for mommy and daddy to get you in the morning." He coos.
She side eyes him and buries her head further into his chest. He walks into the kitchen with you trailing behind and tries to set Charlotte down in her Pack 'n Play yet he can't. Her little hands stick to his shirt with seemingly no way to get them off. His brows furrow and he looks only to realize, her hands aren't actually holding on to him, she's just sticking to him with her hands flat.
"She got the sticky hands too?" He says incredulously.
You laugh from pure shock and tickle her until her hands finally unstick from him. Her giggles fill the quiet of the apartment and she squirms until you set her in the Pack 'n Play. She plops down and immediately throws her pacifier. You let out a sigh and hug Peter. He hugs you just a little tighter and places a kiss on the crown of your head.
"This sucks. Who knew I'd have a baby with Spiderman powers?"
"Evidently me. I feel like we kind of cursed ourselves with always calling her 'lovebug', Pete."
"Yeah, probably or Spiderbaby." He chuckles
"She'll be okay though. At this point, she's like seven months old, the only time her super strength would bad is breaking toys or something."
Peter laughs at that as he opens the fridge and grabs the tub of yogurt. You yawn and lean against Peter, putting your head on his shoulder from behind as he mixes yogurt and berries for Charlotte. You take Charlotte out of her Pack 'n Play and fake groan as you do.
"Oooh my gosh, you're getting so big, Charlie."
She babbles excitedly and squishes your cheeks. You slide her into her highchair and clip on the tray. Peter places her bowl on the tray and pushes down on it so the suction cups stick.
"I don't think those suction cups will work anymore." He remarks lightly.
"Yeah, probably not." You chuckle.
Charlotte squishes the strawberries and raspberries and rubs the juicies on her chair before sticking her hands in the bowl. Then she sticks her entire face in and eats it that way. The bowl ends up on her head with fruit stained yogurt dripping on her.
"Charlie! We just gave you a bath last night." You groan for real this time.
She giggles and claps her hands, "Dada!"
"Yeah, lovebug? What's up?" He holds in a laugh at the sight of her.
"Dada, Dada, Dada, up!" She throws her hands in the air and reaches for him.
He unbuckles her and carries her into the bathroom.
"Hey, bug?" He calls out to you.
"Yeah?" You yell back.
"Can you wipe off her highchair?"
"What?"
You find him in the bathroom sitting on the closed toilet seat checking the water temperature and bouncing Charlotte on his knee.
"What'd you say, Pete?"
"Just asked if you'd wipe off her highchair. I feel like the berries will stain it."
"Yeah, sure." You shrug and walk right back to the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Charlotte splashes around in the bath and Peter rubs green apple scented shampoo into her dark curls. She squirms in place but quickly leans into his touch. She repeatedly babbles 'dada' until he wraps her in a hooded pink towel and covers her chubby cheeks in kisses. Her contagious laughter echoes through the bathroom and hallway and he places her on the ground while he looks for an outfit for her.
You soon join them and give Peter a chaste kiss before putting a diaper on Charlotte.
"Hi, lottie, look at those rolls." You coo at her, gently squishing her chubby thighs.
She grabs your shirt and pulls you close to try to kiss you but it's really just slobbering on you. She tries to pull away after a minute but her hand is stuck.
"Hey, baby?" You call nervously.
"Yeah?" He says back absentmindedly.
"She's stuck again. How much do you care about this shirt." You admit.
"Considering that's a faded D.A.R.E shirt I got as a kid, she can rip it all she wants." He remarks.
Her fist closes a few times and surprisingly she comes unstuck. You pick her up and place her down in her crib, handing her a pacifier. Her eyes flutter closed and she falls asleep soon after. Both you and Peter walk to the living room and flop onto the couch.
"Spiderbaby..." You whisper incredulously.
"Yeah, Spiderbaby..." He whispers back with a smile on his face, kissing you, completely relaxed.
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lovelettersforthedamned · 1 year ago
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ugh I love the way you write frat Peter <3333 am thinking of how he would react when his frat brothers flirt with his girl jus to rile him up - ❄️❄️
A Little Reminder
--genre: fluff, slight smut, MINORS DNI.
--pairing: frat!tasm!peter parker x f!reader
--word count: 1.4k
--warnings: language, kisses, slight smut, mention of hickeys, fluff!!!
love this request! i have something similar (more angsty) if you want more, "Let Me Be There, Let Me Be Yours".
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You were drained, to say the least. Your last lecture wiped you out, followed by a tutoring session to bring up your plummeting English Literature grade. Peter’s the one to blame for that one. Sure, you scheduled an early morning class knowing that it would be hard to get there, but Peter keeping you hostage in bed also didn’t help. 
As you walk back to your apartment, you’re mentally cursing him knowing that you’ll realistically not do anything about it. With your headphones blocking out the world around you, your only goal was to get home and to Peter. Your bed calls out for you. 
Switching songs, an arm is suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, making you jump out of your skin. Pulling off one side of your headphones, you look towards the person whose arm is around you, finding one of Peter’s frat brothers grinning widely at you. You barely have time to deal with whatever is going on, but still decide to play along not to seem rude, “Bryce, what the fuck is going on?”
“Oh nothing,” he replied nonchalantly, his arm still on your shoulders, “ just walking you home, that’s all.” His tone still holds one of a joke, but now that you’re approaching your apartment he still doesn’t give up.
You can’t help but laugh and scoff, you wonder how long he’ll keep this up. Ducking out of his hold, you stand in front of him, “I didn’t ask you to do that, but thank you so much for your generosity, Bryce. Your heart must be so so big!” You bring a hand up to his shoulder and pat it a few times, “I’ll make sure to tell Pete about this. Just to let him know how caring you are.”
“You do that, (Y/N)! I cannot wait to hear back from him,” his smile is wide still, but sarcasm drips off of his tongue. 
You start to walk up the stairs to your building, waving Bryce goodbye as you giggle to yourself. He’s going to get an earful the next time he sees Peter. 
****
“Hi, Pete! I’m home,” you call out as you close and lock the door behind you. It doesn’t take long before you hear heavy footsteps approach you from the bedroom, Peter’s disheveled state greeting you. He’s shirtless, his boxers the only thing on his body, but you’re not complaining. Peter’s even wearing his glasses, which is a rarity recently. You’ve noticed he only wears them around you. 
As he approaches you, he takes your school bag and your headphones, placing them on the couch before he envelopes you in a bone-crushing hug. You breathe in his scent, the natural musk combined with his body wash makes you melt. Your ear is placed directly on his heart, the rhythmic beat acting as a lullaby. You look up at him again, craving to see him in his glasses again to see that he’s already looking at you. You stand on your toes to reach his lips, catching him off guard in a kiss that he quickly gets accustomed to. His lips are slightly chapped. 
Pulling away he sighs, giving your lips one more quick peck, “How was class, bug?” Brushing a piece of hair that fell into your eyes away, he holds the side of your face. 
“It was long and boring,” you close your eyes, the mere thought of it reeling in another wave of exhaustion, “but guess who I ran into on the way home?” You pull away from his hold to walk over to the kitchen, Peter following loosely behind you. There are a few beats of silence as he goes through the list of who it could be, but he soon gives up with a sigh. “Bryce fucking Quinn,” you reveal.
He leans against the cabinet as you reach into the fridge for a bottle of water, his eyes widening, “I haven’t seen him in a while. How is he?” 
“He’s good,” you open the cap and take a sip, before dropping the bomb on him, “he’s very nice.”
This sparks Peter’s interest, his head cocking to the side as his brows furrowed in confusion, “Oh really?” Your impression of him shocks him. He knows Bryce Quinn to be a jokester, he’s never taken anything seriously, and if he did, it was always because it was part of a running bit that he carried. 
You smirk as you take another sip, trying not to reveal how amused you are, “Yeah, he even walked me home! He even threw his arm over me to make sure I got here safe.” You leave Peter to go into the bathroom, the sudden urge to pee coming over you.
Peter’s once relaxed demeanor was now one of rigid shock, he once again followed you. “What do you mean ‘threw his arm over you’?” You’re sitting on the toilet when Peter opens the door and stands directly in front of you, looking for answers. 
“You need me to answer that right now?”
“Well,” he doesn’t see anything wrong with asking right now, “when else am I gonna ask you?” He’s dead serious too. 
Reaching for the toilet paper, you gather a few pieces, “Maybe when I’m not actively on the toilet?” 
He finally comes to his senses as he turns around, facing the wall, and leaving you to do your business. “It’s not like I haven’t seen every part of you before,” he adds, before turning back around when he hears the toilet flush and the sink run as you wash your hands. 
Washing your hands, you look into the mirror only to see Peter behind you, giving you a scare. “If you’re really worried about this babe, you know you shouldn’t,” you dry your hands off on the towel next to the sink. Turning around to face your worried and slightly angry boyfriend, you reach up to hold his face, his head slightly flinching away from your cold hands, you giggle, “Shit, sorry!” 
Pulling down his face, you kiss his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands find their home on your waist. The kiss slowly gets needier, causing Peter’s hands to lower down to under your thighs, hoisting you onto the counter, his arms caging you in as he places both of his hands on either side of your head. Your fingers are weaving themselves in his hair, slightly tugging on it, causing a soft moan to escape his lips. You pull away, his lips chasing yours as you back away. “Peter,” you whine. 
He’s not listening, his only objective was connecting your lips again. He’s panting as he responds, his voice breathy, “Yeah, baby?” You can’t help but smirk at his current state. It seems like he forgot all about your previous conversation. 
As you tilt your head back and forth to look into his eyes, he follows. His lips are desperate for your touch, and it shows. You grab his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes, “Don’t be too hard on Bryce when you see him next.” 
Peter groans as he tilts his head back away from your touch, a breathy chuckle leaving him, “Why are we still talking about Bryce when I’m so close to taking you back to bed?” 
You blush at his response, “I’m just saying…I don’t need to be the damsel in distress when it comes to you, Petey.” Peter brings his hands down to scoop under your thighs once again, pulling you up to his chest, making you wrap both your arms and legs around him to not fall, a big smile on your face.
“Oh, bug,” he starts to walk to your bedroom, “you’re never the damsel in distress. But sometimes they need a little reminder that you aren’t theirs to play with, are you?” You shake your head in response, the heat in your cheeks starting to pool lower on your body. “And sometimes they forget that,” he places you gently on the bed. 
Peter can’t help but admire you as you lay in front of him. Pulling off his glasses and tossing them to the side, he kneels on the bed to kiss you again, leaving a few marks on your neck to serve as a physical reminder to those around you. Bryce is so fucked. 
--author's note: I LOVE FRAT!PETER AND I'M SO HAPPY YOU LOVE HIM TOO ❄️ ANON!!!!!! this got a little spicy at the end and i'm so sorry i have no idea what happened LMAOO. don't forget to like, comment, and reblog. my 300 follower celebration is happening now, so don't forget to send things in!! rules are pinned to my blog!!! ok, ily bye <333
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backtothefanfiction · 2 years ago
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Professor Peter Parker
Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!
Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!
Word Count: 4.9k+
A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.
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First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.
You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.
You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’ 
You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world. 
You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.
‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.
You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-
“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.
SHIT!
DOUBLE SHIT!
You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!
You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?
“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.
You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ‘Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’
8 HOURS EARLIER 
“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.
“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”
He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.
“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare. 
He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.
The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”
You frown. “Why Flower?” 
“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”
“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.
“Okay, then what can I call you?”
You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”
He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”
You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”
He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you. 
You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”
An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.
You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.
“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you. 
“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.
Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.
“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.
His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.
You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.
He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.
You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.
You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.
You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”
You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs. 
His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.
His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you. 
He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin. 
He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”
You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.
When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.
“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you. 
Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.
His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs. 
His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”
You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.” 
“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.
“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.
“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.
“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air. 
He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.
His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.
“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.
“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.” 
You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged. 
It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock. 
He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly. 
You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”
His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.
You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again. 
“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”
It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.
“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you. 
With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.
He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.
You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.
The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.
“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.
“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”
You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.
He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”
You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.
“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.
You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?
________________________-
@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida
Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.
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withahappyrefrain · 7 months ago
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oop for the drabble weekend… “When I tell you to sit on my face, I want you to sit, is that clear?” + soft!dom tasm peter if you’re down 🩷 or any of your boys 🥺
Is this how we bring back soft dom mob AU Peter? Maybeeeeeeeeee.....yeah. It is.
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"Mister.....Mister Parker-"
A low groan vibrated against your chest, his mouth still attached to your breast, your unbuttoned blouse framing his head.
"What did I say to call me, Shefele?"
Lamb. That's what you were and he was the wolf, ready to devour you whole.
He was also your boss. The ultimate forbidden fruit. He paid your bills and could lead you to financial ruin at the drop of a hat.
You did kiss him first.
"Peter," his beard brushed against your sensitive skin, sending a body shuddering shiver up your spine.
His hand slipped past your skirt's hemline, long fingers finding your clothed core, rubbing against the flimsy fabric of your panties.
"Already so wet for me," his lips trailed up your body, leaving a litter of kisses and love bites across your flesh.
Peter's lips found yours with ease, realization that all those times in meetings he was truly staring at your lips, like a train.
Your hands explored his deceivingly muscular body, able to feel through his cotton button up. Trailing down, down, down to his designer belt.
"N-need you," your confession came in the form of a barely audible whine.
"I know, but," his hands pushed yours away, his body moving down and off the couch, "Let me take care of ya first. Sit on my face."
"What?"
Peter moved his body so that his back was against the plush cushions of the sofa, head tilted back, the mess of curls and waves tickling your knees, "You heard me, Shefele."
"Mist- Peter, if I sit on your I'll cr-"
"Don't finish that sentence," he moved faster than lightning, body draping over yours once more, "Because that won't happen. I'll be fine."
His lips found your jawline, playfully nipping at it, "When I tell you to sit on my face, I want you to sit. Is that clear, Shefele?"
You nodded, panting as if you had just ran a marathon, "Y-yes sir."
The title elicited a low, nearly animalist groan, "Gonna make you feel s'good, Shefele."
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basicrese · 1 year ago
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(primarily) tasm!peter parker fic recs (pt.2)
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back to main navigation
tasm!peter parker fic recs (pt.1)
one-shots
A Little Reminder by @lovelettersforthedamned
baby me by @p3terparker
Begin Again by @webslingingslasher
blooming showers by @lucky-bucky-boy
Care less by @webslingingslasher
doughnuts by @cosmal
Fight For You by @lovelettersforthedamned
girls night by @lovelettersforthedamned
infrunami by @thursdaygxrls
i’ll be right there, sweetheart by @urrockstar-xe
I’m With You by @blooming-violets
it’s always been you by @backtothefanfiction
let me be there, let me be yours by @lovelettersforthedamned
math test by @urrockstar-xe
movie night by @mullthingsoverinthehotwater
pleading through the bathroom door by @lovelettersforthedamned
somebody else by @beatlesbug
starstruck by @localrockstargf
Stupid In Love by @lovelettersforthedamned
tasm!Spiderman x fem!reader by @moonstruckme
the last time by @delicate-dorothea
the peace treat-y (comes with sprinkles) by @delicate-dorothea
Unpretty by @writtenbymoonflower
Unknown Sender by @webslingingslasher
valentine, oh mine by @literaila
walking back home by @parkerdoeswriting
winter formal by @urrockstar-xe
you deserve all the flowers by @beyondspaceandstars
you’re drunk, and he’s in love by @lovelettersforthedamned
series & multi-parts
a matter of time by @dameronology
merry christmas by @alloftheimaginesblog
happy new year
Neighbors by @reverieblondie
Starcrossed lovers by @frost-queen
U.N.I. by @webslingingslasher
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deathbyathousandspiders · 11 months ago
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HELL–BOUND. ₁
mcu!peter parker | zombie–apocalypse au. CHAPTER ONE.
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IN WHICH you’re the last hope to saving the world from HYDRA’s destructive zombie outbreak.
read chapter two | three | four | five.
✨masterlist.✨
1.9k.
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“You were born for this.” The words were tattooed on your existence, handwritten on your destiny. “We made you for this.” And your fate was embroidered with such words, such purpose, even as your footsteps echoed on the ashes of humanity. The last remaining remnants that society existed were crushed beneath your leather boots, and broken along the cracking pavement. 
It had been four weeks since the outbreak. Four weeks since you’d been kidnapped by HYDRA; since you’d been separated from the avengers, since the death of Steve Rogers and since the downfall of America. The rest of the world was slowly catching flame with the fire that HYDRA started, withering away at the mercy of people who were stupid enough to try and fly out to salvation. 
But this virus wasn’t a disease, it was a creation. These infected people weren’t able to be cured, they needed to be stopped. And the only person who could stop it kept trekking on the pavement, white knuckles on a gun and a backpack. 
The fate of the world rested in that backpack, in your brain, in your blood. And you didn’t even give yourself time to process. You'd been running for days.
Natasha’s words still rang through your head like some kind of broken record, a senseless beacon of hope you tried to make some sense of. She’d come to free you, to inform you of the state world currently laid in. “If we get separated, I’ll find you.” She’d used the gravest tone you’d ever heard her muster. “And if you get lost, meet me in Massachusetts.”
You never would’ve thought that she’d be the one to get lost. To sacrifice herself just to get you out, and you knew why. You also knew you’d find her. You had to, needed to, or she’d find you. You’d find each other. Somehow, someway, soon, you'd be reunited. It was only a matter of time. 
But that was a week ago. 
Thank God you made it out, yet you were anything but hopeful. You could tell this was only the beginning. The start of something gut—wrenchingly inhumane. You were nearly out of New York, trekking on foot to Massachusetts like she’d told you to. Driving would put you at too much risk right now, especially when trying to journey alone. This helped you to better navigate your surroundings. 
Hearing the low glottaled groan of an infected, you craned your head in the direction. They were stuck beside a tree, webs restraining them to the trunk and their body deteriorating as the hours passed. The stench of their corpsing complexion alone was lethal. Still, you knew what you had to do. 
Aiming your gun, you kept your distance. Loading, squinting an eye, and firing like HYDRA was right all along: you were born for this. You made a clean shot, putting the victim out of their misery and continuing to trek along the ruins of a road. 
Until you heard a twig snap behind you. 
Your instincts were too fast as you loaded and aimed your gun once again, turning on your heel behind you to find yourself staring at a familiar face. Your eyes widened, lowering your gun only a little. 
“Peter Parker?” It was the first time you’d spoken in days. The words felt wrong on your tongue, and seeing him was something you weren’t sure what to make of. 
He looked older, matured, aged. Aged by the things he had to endure when the world ended; matured by the things he had to do to protect people, to witness the losses he did. He was older, in experience, in life, and in the days he knew were numbered. 
His hands were raised, but his eyes told you that he knew you wouldn’t shoot him. You were classmates, after all. Teammates, Avengers. Something more. You should’ve felt relief to have seen him, and part of you did. But the other part of you drove the actions that led you to put your gun in its holster at your hip and pace towards him. Peter stayed where he was as you slapped him across the face. Your blood boiled with rage. 
And he just let it. 
“This is your fault!” You spat at him, fighting the urges to punch him, to hug him, but even you knew that anger would get you nowhere; even you knew a huge part of you was undeniably grateful to see him alive. Unharmed. 
His jaw clenched and he’d finally averted his eye contact. Peter knew you were right, even as outlandish as the accusation was. “Y/N, please..” His voice was softer than you remembered it being, perhaps because of how apologetic his tone was. It almost thawed your anger. It almost reminded you that perhaps things weren’t as grim as you’d begun to believe. You couldn’t let it, though. 
Your fist raised to throw a punch. A roar far off in the distance ceased your actions. Your whole body froze, and Peter’s did, too. Cold blood and a trembling fist to your side, and you looked to Peter for a directive out of this. 
He grabbed your hand without hesitation, leading you into the forest beside you. Not a word was said. You were silent, invisible to your surroundings. Cutting through overgrown greenery, and stepping over fallen branches and knee–high grass. Peter led you past trees and bushes, over rotting bodies and patches of dry dirt, until you got to a twenty foot gate randomly placed in the middle of it. 
Like procedure, he placed his thumb on a touch screen and the gate opened, programmed to only open up a crack so he could squeeze through, and thus you behind him. The gate closed less than a second after you were through it, and just beyond it was a bolted door. 
Peter dropped your hand, unlocking the door and helping you inside. This must have been where he’d been resigning since the last time you saw him. He, too, had been taken by HYDRA when you were. He, too, had been worked and experimented on, just the same as you. And he, too, wasn’t a stranger to the way the two of you led the world to its demise. 
Did he know the part he played in all of this, though? Truly?
Silence reigned over the two of you as you calmed down, and Peter led you through the bunker he had been living in. There were walls of canned food, loads of weapons, working technology, and piles of papers. He’d been writing, documenting. 
Perhaps, he’d been alone. 
Peter was the first to break the silence. “Are you hungry?” He’d noticed you staring. “Cold? Want a change of clothes?” Even when the world had gone to shit, he still knew how to be a good host. Even when he knew you were upset with him, he knew how to make you feel comfortable. Seen. 
It took you back to moments before everything happened. Before everything changed. It brought back memories of a world you now only knew in slumber, things almost too painful to think about in waking moments. 
Taking a breath, you turned to face him. “Are you living here alone?” You ignored his questions. Typical. The query ached in your throat, you had to ask it. “Are there– umm.. Are there any of us left besides–”
“This is Natasha’s place.” He knew who you were trying to ask about. You watched the way he turned on a heater in the middle of the room. How his shoulders hung lower the deeper in thought he got, how many seconds were in between his answer and the realization that it might just be the three of you left. “I don’t know who’s left. Besides you and me, and Nat.”
And that’s when you realized the part she was playing in this; she had been protecting Peter, the same way that she’d been protecting you. The two of you were merely kids, after all. Clinging to the hope of getting back to a world where you could get college degrees, and they would mean something. 
You walked further into the room, following the warmth as it poured into the space. “When was the last time you saw her?” The rage you’d felt towards Peter just moments prior had already begun to thaw, already losing sight on where the anger came from. You were more focused, more worried, about Nat right now.
He sat down on a chair in the space, tapping his finger on the arm of it and bouncing his leg as he pondered. “The last I saw her, she was on her way to get you.”
That realization made your heart stop. Your feet glued to the floor, and your whole body froze. It seemed like Peter’s body caught whatever sensation of panic flooded yours. He froze, too. 
“Peter.. That was a week ago.” The words fell heavy from your lips, like the fate of the world was tied to them. And it was. 
He stared back at you, not daring to break the eye contact. Whether it was to provide comfort, or to better read your expression. “I know.” Even he understood the weight of this. The weight of whether Natasha was still alive, safe. Or worse. 
You looked at him, taking a breath. Realizing you were quick to your anger earlier, and realizing that maybe Peter didn’t know what role he played in this. Regret put you in a chokehold, the bitterness of death taking reign on the tension in the room. It stole any kind of wishful thinking you’d had, and made its dire presence known by sounding off in the ticking of a clock—hand. 
Grabbing your backpack, you went for the folder you’d kept inside. You fumbled to grab the papers, handing them over to Peter. “We need to find her.” 
A puzzled look danced across his face in the light. He wasn’t entirely sure what you were getting at, or what you handed him, which meant you were right. He had no idea what part he played in this. “We need to find her, and we need to get the fuck out of this continent.”
He looked through the papers, eyebrows pressing together as he processed the writings. “Y/N, what the fuck is this?”
“Did she tell you what our plan was?” You asked him, trying not to let your anxiety boil over. You needed to keep your composure. “Did she ever tell you what we need to do?”
“What the fuck.. What the fuck am I looking at?” He ignored your question. 
You looked at Peter and took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to panic, you knew it wasn’t. “Peter, I know how to stop this outbreak.”
Instantly, he met your eyes from where he sat, his entire expression changing the tone it directed at you. Misunderstanding morphed to confusion, curiosity. Hope. “How?” He forced the words out, needing to know the answer. 
“We need to find Natasha, and get to Wakanda.” You told him, hugging your knees closer to your chest. “When we get to Wakanda, they’ll know what to do.”
Peter wasn’t satisfied with that. “And then what? How does the world just go back to normal?” His questions were urgent, but not judgmental. He didn’t ask with a tone to attack you. In fact, the weight they gained told you he might’ve caught on to what you were about to say. “How do we cure these people?”
Anxiety ran a course through your system, gnawing at your insides and sending a chill down the length of your body. You stilled, minus the fidgeting of your fingers. Your breaths became trembled, and you procrastinated your answer. “We have to get me to Wakanda.. so that they can kill me.”
And the whole world went quiet. 
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sincericida · 25 days ago
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favorite TASM parker fics? And 3 fic writers.
OMG... Noooooooo! Don’t do this to me! I definitely have more than 20 favorite fanfics, and maybe 10 writers that I love very much and I look forward to every update of them!
God, it’s very hard to choose! I have several fanfics that I love and that I always re-read because they are excellent. But since you are forcing me to choose, let’s go:
The Spider And The Sunflower, by @spidervee
The Sugar & Vice series, by @liz-allyn
Dancing on my Own, by @blooming-violets
The Angle in the Garden of Evil series, by @backtothefanfiction
Another Love series, by @abibliophobiaa
About my favorite Tumblr writers, I have some that I love and read all the time, and they are just some of the best on this site. But if I can only name three, they are @liz-allyn , @blooming-violets and @withahappyrefrain (with their mafia!Peter that are simply the best 🫦)
Thank you for the question. And once again thank you to the Tumblr writers - including those I did not mention in this post, I love you, I love the work of all of you.
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liz-allyn · 1 month ago
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Guess who's back
10.5k words dropping here—March 23.
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#3 - New Rules
follow/reblog to be notified!
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months ago
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something in return
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a/n: tbh i didn't intend for all of the moments in this instalment to fit into the same pattern, but hey, i won't complain when my geniusness unintentionally slips out... sometimes my big beautiful brain just can't help it lol
summary: “if you want them back so badly, then I think you’d have to work for it,” Steve cockily crossed his brawny arms. 
warnings: frat!bucky barnes x innocent!reader x stepbro!steve rogers, professor!peter parker, professor!reed richards, smut, dark content, college au, polyamory, kissing, virgin!reader, corruption kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, size kink, pain kink, spit kink, masturbation, fingering, anal, squirting, impact play, dry humping, thighjob, pussyjob, cumplay
word count: 5606
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, intro to the au
masterlist | join my taglist 
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You didn’t recognise the room that you woke up in. All you could hope for was that you were still in the frat house after the previous night’s rager. 
Though when you blinked around the unfamiliar space from your horizontal position, your eyes soon landed on the inked arm draped over your waist. Heartbeat promptly picking up, you slowly glanced back over your shoulder to discover Bucky sprawled out behind you and still fast asleep. 
Carefully, you tried to twist out from under his burly arm and slip out of bed, but though your movement was cautious, it still managed to stir him. 
“Morning,” he hummed groggily, his sleepy voice deeper than you’d ever heard before. 
Sucking in a breath as you sat balanced on the edge of the mattress, you refused to whirl around to meet his eye, “uhm, hi… how–, uh,” you coughed, “why am I in your bed?” 
“How the hell should I know,” he uttered through a yawn, “you were already here when I eventually went to bed.” 
“Oh…” you breathed, and as you then shifted slightly, you noticed the lack of fabric beneath your skirt as nothing seemed to cling around your core, “uh–, did anything–,” you finally glanced back at him in alarm, “nothing happened, right?” 
And as he stared back at you, his head cocked against the plush pillow, a smirk slowly began to bloom on his lips, “are you asking if we fucked last night?” he teased, “I am hurt that your brain would even dare to block such a magical night of lovemaking out of your memory.”
“What?” your eyes grew. 
“Kidding! Nothing happened, I promise,” both of his palms promptly floated up, “or, nothing happened between us,” he pointed out with a tilt of his head as he lowered his hands once more, “from what I heard you and Steve had quite the night…”
“I-I–,” you averted your gaze, swiftly scrambling to get up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Sure you don’t,” he uttered smugly, “but just so you know, there isn’t much he and I don’t share, secrets or otherwise…”
Glancing around the room for your phone, you soon spotted it on the windowsill, “…I gotta go, I’ve got freshman orientation to get to,” you grabbed the device. Crisp morning air caressed your bare core with every shy step and prompted you to briefly sputter, “you wouldn’t happen to know where my–, never mind…” utterly mortified, you swiftly dropped the subject once more. 
“Oh, you’ve still got some time,” Bucky glanced to the ticking clock on his bedside table, “why don’t you hang around here a bit longer?”
“I really should be going–” 
But your words then ceased as the door abruptly swung open and in waltzed none other than your stepbrother. 
“Hey, dude, do you know where–, oh,” as Steve’s eyes landed upon you, his feet swiftly came to a stop, “well,” and a grin lit up his features, “good morning.” 
“Steve, will you please help me out here?” Bucky looked to his friend, “your stepsister is being a boring little brat.” 
“I’m sorry, but I do really need to go.”
“What, to freshman orientation? You’ve still got plenty of time before it begins,” Steve used the mass of his body to slyly block your passage as he kicked the door shut behind him. 
“That’s what I said!” Bucky pointed out with a short chuckle. 
“Well, I wanna get there extra early,” you tilted your head. 
“For what?” your stepbrother furrowed his brow, “so that you can get a seat in the very front row?” 
“Steve, just stop, just let me do it my way, okay?” you groaned, “I don’t wanna be anymore stressed this morning than I already am, so yeah, I’m going there early and you’re not gonna stop me.” 
Staring back at you, a slow exhale seeped from his lungs before he eventually muttered, “…alright.”
“Great!” you then pushed past him, but just as your fingers grasped the door handle, your frame froze up, “…hey,” your words then came out as barely a whisper, “you wouldn’t happen to know where my–”
“Where your panties are?” he swiftly cut in, “yeah, I do.” 
Twisting around, you met his smug features with a gentle furrow to your brow, “okay, where are they?” 
“Hmm…” a smirk began to tug at his lips before he uttered, “I–, uh… I don’t think you deserve to know that.” 
“Seriously?” you exclaimed, “Steve, just give them back, what use could you even have with them?”
“Oh, I could think of a few,” Bucky murmured from the bed, his arms comfortably curled back behind his head. 
“If you want them back so badly, then I think you’d have to work for it,” Steve cockily crossed his brawny arms. 
Melting with a sigh, you gave in, “alright, fine, what do you want?” fully expecting him to suggest that you should clean his room or something along those lines. 
But instead, you heard him utter, “I wanna stretch that little virgin pussy out,” his tone casually smooth as his gaze drifted down your frame, “see how many fingers she can take.”
Glancing nervously to Bucky behind him, you coughed, “you wanna–, w-what?”
“Come on,” he took a step closer to you, “just let me pick the lessons back up from last night,” before he briefly cast his vision over his broad shoulder to the man still in bed, “you wanna join in? Help show her the ropes?”
“Oh, fuck yeah,” Bucky sat up more. 
“You can’t be serious,” your chest heaved with every laboured breath, “are you still drunk?” 
“No,” he simply shook his head as his feet continued to shuffle closer to where you stood. 
“But Steve–”
“Shh, it’s okay,” his hands then grabbed each side of your face before he bent down and kissed you in an attempt to snuff out your worries. 
And when he slowly retracted, the simple peck had managed to make your knees go wobbly as you now hazily blinked back at him, “…you sure?” 
“Yeah,” he smiled as his thumb caressed your cheekbone. 
Crawling out of bed, Bucky then asked one finally time, “so, you want your panties back or not?”
And as your eyes drifted to him as he slowly stalked closer to the both of you, a faint nod found your head, “…alright,” before a shiver ran down your spin at the deal you’d just made, “but just–, fuck…”
“We’ll be gentle,” Steve uttered before Bucky’s head tilted at his vow. 
“Will we?” he knowingly scoffed at his friend. 
“Well, we’ll try, let’s just promise that,” Steve chuckled as he corrected himself. 
Slowly cascading down your inner thighs was not only the wet and sticky remnant of last night, but also the embarrassing reaction that fused with the terrifying nerves that now buzzed in your belly. 
“H-how–,” you fumbled, faintly gesturing before trailing off, “uh…”
Still keeping his eye locked upon you, Steve murmured, “sit down on the bed,” as his head nodded back in that direction.  
And slowly, you did so, all the while with your wild eyes trained on the pair of them.  
“Lean back,” Bucky urged as he stepped closer, and you tilted further back against the pillows piled up against the wall that the bed stood against. 
Firmly, you tried to keep your legs clambered shut as you watched them both kneel down on the floor at your feet, though as they pried your thighs apart, a shaky gasp rippled through your body. 
“Fuck, look at that little pussy…” Bucky groaned as he reached out to be the first to graze his touch against your folds, still all messy as it glistened back at him, “how is she even better than you described? 
“No fucking clue,” Steve chuckled as his own fingers slithered up to tickle at your clit. 
They went on teasing your puffy pearl for much longer than you’d thought, as they kept going and didn’t change their maddening pattern till you were close to cumming. And as your cunt clenched around nothing, winking up at them, it was finally filled up by one of Steve’s thick fingers as he gradually pressed it inside, though barely past the first knuckle.
“O-oh my god,” you gasped shakily at the unfamiliar sensation and cast your glance down at the digit your pussy slowly swallowed. 
“Shit…” your stepbrother’s mouth hung agape as he felt your tight hole struggle to stretch around him, “I really thought getting you close would have relaxed you more than this, but damn, baby…” he then retracked his finger only to nudge his friend beside him, “feel her, dude.”
“Wow,” Bucky chuckled darkly as he pressed in much deeper than Steve had, “we really gotta loosen you up before you have any chance of taking something real up here.”
You tried to keep your eyes open, tried to keep your gaze locked upon their overwhelming actions, though as the digit inside of you then carefully slide against your velvety walls and another’s touch reunited with your clit, you had no choice but to tumble over the edge, eyes screwing shut as your pussy clambered down around Bucky’s finger. 
“Oh fuck, I can’t wait to feel that around my cock,” Bucky’s voice barely managed to seep through your haze as he stilled his shallow motions. 
“Patience,” Steve’s words too sounded far away, like you were underwater as you came down from the high, barely registering as they both rapidly stripped you of your clothing, “if you try now, then you’ll just break her in two.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Bucky shot back as they both smiled. 
A part of you thought that they were done, that they’d had their fill, but little did you know it was only the very beginning. 
The finger still within you once again began to move, ripping a whimper out of your lungs as it slowly dragged back out, “wait, it’s too much–”
“What, are you sensitive?” Bucky’s steely gaze found yours as his touch made you squirm, “does it maybe hurt a little bit?” 
“Hey,” Steve then tapped his friend’s wrist as he stared up at you, “hold her still,” before Bucky’s touch faded and traded in with Steve’s, gently circling your entrance as the other man bent up your legs, caught both of your wrists in one broad palm, before he locked the same inked arm over your folded frame and squished you further down into the mattress.
It took some effort, but eventually Steve managed to sink not only one, but two of his thick fingers into your dripping core, making you wiggle beneath Bucky’s hold as you felt your poor pussy be stretched. 
“Oh, there you go,” your stepbrother chuckled as your tiny hole clung around his digits, forcing his pace to slow as you hugged onto him too tightly for him to fuck you at the pace he desired.
“H-how much is that?” you whimpered as your legs now obscured your view. 
“Just two fingers,” Bucky pressed a peck to your inner thigh before elbowing his friend gently, “dude, you can go deeper than that.” 
And as Steve sank his digits so deep that his palm rutted against you with each rock, you gasped, “seriously? It feels like it’s your whole fucking hand.” 
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Steve grinned as he kept up his ruthless pattern, “might be a bit unrealistic for today, but we could certainly work you up to that.” 
“No, I didn’t–, oh fuck–,” you tried to counter, though swiftly began to tremble once again, all of your vigour flying out of the window at the anticipation of yet another orgasm. 
With Bucky’s free hand, it floated up to trace your stretched entrance clinging around his friend’s digits, only for Steve to then slip one of his fingers out to make room for one of Bucky’s to press in and plug you up beside the one remaining. 
And as you tried to stifle your moans, Steve’s palm swatted down over your ass, “don’t you dare hold back those filthy noises.”
“Yeah,” Bucky’s finger rocked in tandem inside of you as you felt yourself tumble over the edge, “be a good girl and wake up the entire house,” his filthy commands urged you in your foggy state to let go even further and comply to their wish, “be loud enough for everyone to discover just exactly what a little slut Steve’s innocent little stepsister is.” 
And as the intense wave of ecstasy washed over you, the pace of their fingers didn’t slow in the slightest, but grew rougher as their caresses began to overstimulate you. Squirming and whimpering beneath his touch, Steve continued in a gravelly tone, “yeah, they’re probably jerking it with their ears pressed up against the walls,” he tried to force a third digit inside, though both his and his friend’s attempts failed, try as they might, “wishing it was their fingers getting soaked by your sweet pussy.” 
“What do you think,” Bucky’s pinkie then traced the cream that had leaked down from your stuffed pussy, south over your little rosebud, till it dripped onto the mattress below. Tracing your other little hole, glistening from the way they had you leaking, he simply couldn’t help himself and slipped just the very tip inside, “maybe that could happen one day…” 
“If she’s good, sure,” Steve quit trying to work another finger inside, “can you do that, baby?” he asked as the rocking motion the two separate fingers in your cunt kept up and conjured a sloppy melody to slosh throughout the room, “can you be good for me, and then maybe one day I’ll open up the invitation to more than just my best friend?” 
“Pass you around like a fucking joint, keeping us all warm and happy…” Bucky smirked as he gazed down at how they each greedily played with both of your holes, “yeah, look at her, she’d fucking love that…” 
If it wasn’t for the loud curses both men then let out as they once more shoved you over the edge, you wouldn’t have noticed how your pussy began to cry around their digits, gushing fiercely as they then withdrew their touch, only to land a vicious row of smacks against your puffy petals, causing your overly sensitive pussy to squirt even further. 
They kept on occasionally tapping their broad palms over your swollen cunt as you forgot what your own name was, their lips twisting up into a grin each time your frame jumped at the light impacts. 
It took a long while for you to realise what the low grunts and the slick sounds were, though even when you finally heard them, you still didn’t have any clue just how long the two men had been stroking themselves, kneeled before your tempting haven. Perhaps it was a new development or maybe they had stopped resisting the second they began to play with you, reliving themselves to the front row seat they gave themselves. 
And as they slowly rose up to stand before you, like towering boulders at the foot of the bed you layed melted against, all of the air escaped your lungs as your hazy gaze landed upon the cocks in their hands. 
First, your eyes landed upon Steve, his throbbing girth enveloped in the missing panties he’d promised to return to you, as he squeezed them tighter around his dick with every stroke. But then when your stare drifted to Bucky, a smirk swiftly bloomed on his face at the way your jaw hit the floor. To say that he was large was the understatement of the century as the frat boy himself knew that if he wanted to have an easy career, then he could just become a pornstar and skyrocket to a legendary status overnight, simply because of his monstrously blessed equipment. 
“So,” Bucky grunted as Steve beside him adjusted his grip and began to slip your messy panties back on and up your quivering legs, “who are you gonna pick to pop your cherry?” he briefly reached down to aid his friend before the cotton snapped back into place over your sensitive cunt. 
“That’s not even a question,” Steve scoffed as he only let the underwear stay in its place for a second before his grip caught the waistband and yanked it down to flash your pussy once more, “it will be me.”
And as they both soon unravelled before you, each of them purposefully aimed at the exposed inner side of your underwear, their cum painting the soft cotton white, before Steve let go and it snapped back into place against your skin. 
“There,” Steve smiled as he caught his breath, “now you can go to freshman orientation.”
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As you scurried down the gothic halls of the university’s science building, your eyes drifted from door to door as you passed dozens of lecture halls, labs and offices. You weren’t even really sure if you were in the right building for what you were on the hunt for. 
“You lost?” a voice then suddenly found you as you peeked your head into an empty classroom. 
Spinning around, you saw an older man, surely a faculty member, paused in his leisurely stride and glancing up from the papers in his hand to gaze at you. 
“I–, uhm, maybe,” you admitted, suddenly overcome with the fear that you had accidentally wandered into a restricted area, “you wouldn’t happen to know where Professor Parker’s office is–, unless of course, that’s you.”
Shaking his head, he said, “no, I’m Dr. Richards.” 
“As in Dr. Reed Richards?” your eyes began to grow in admiration as you blinked back at the doctor, “the neurosurgeon who worked on that famous Alzheimer’s clinical trial a few years back?” 
“Guilty as charged,” he smiled, shifting the papers in his hand to slot them under his arm. 
“Oh wow,” you giggled, “I mean, I knew that you started teaching a course here, that’s actually part of the reason why I chose this school, but I just didn’t expect to–, I’m sorry, I’m just a big fan. I mean, you’re a rockstar,” you timidly gestured to him, “I hope to get into your class next semester, I’ve heard it fills up quite quickly.” 
“Well,” he tilted his head, “maybe you could swing by my office one day and perhaps we could figure out a way for one of the spots to be reserved for you.”
“Seriously?” his obvious flirting flew straight over your head as you didn’t yet know of his rakish reputation, “that would be amazing.” 
“Yeah, no problem,” the professor then turned to walk away, “and it’s the last office at the end of the hall, by the way.”
“What?”
“You were looking for Parker?” he reminded your starstruck mind, “end of the hall.” 
“Oh, right,” you breathed and glanced in the direction his finger briefly pointed, “thank you.”
“No problem,” he smiled before disappearing around a corner. 
As you neared the door, it stood slightly ajar, lending you to hear a deep voice quietly talking on the other side. Softly, you landed a few knocks before you carefully pushed it open. 
Standing behind the desk in the middle of the room and illuminated by the tall window behind him, stood the bespectacled professor you searched for, with a phone pressed up against his ear as he murmured into it. 
“Mhm, but it would just be Friday night,” he twisted around as he heard the threshold creak beneath your shoe. Briefly raising up a hand, he momentarily tilted the phone away from his lips to utter, “one moment, you can just have a seat,” he gestured to the chair on your side of the table before he then returned to the call, “are you sure? Okay, well, I’ll figure something else out… no, it’s alright, I get it,” he exhaled, “yeah, talk soon, bye,” before he hung up and sank down into his seat with a sigh, “sorry about that. Babysitter just cancelled on me.”
“Oh, it’s alright,” you waved a hand, “I’m sorry for just barging in, Professor Parker–, I mean doctor–, I mean–, uh…”
“Professor is fine,” he offered you a gentle smile to sooth your nerves, “what can I do for you?” 
“Well, it’s about your class…” you slowly began, “I know that I’m technically too late to sign up, but I just wanted to see if there was any possible way there might be one last slot left that I could fill.” 
“Oh,” he breathed in response. 
“Really, I’d do anything,” you stated before then detouring to a different tactic, “you said something about needing a babysitter? Maybe I could help,” you offered your services, “I used to do it for many years, all the way through my teens till I started here, so maybe I could lend a hand.” 
“I, uh…” his eyes narrowed as he thought it over. 
“Please?” your lips couldn’t help but press together in a pout, “I’ve dreamt about taking your class on medical history for years and years. You’d be like a genie granting me a wish.”
And as he blinked back at you, the luck that evidently was on your side shocked you to your very core as he unexpectedly uttered, “…alright.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he slowly nodded, “but if there aren’t any seats left–”
“Then I’ll happily sit on the floor or stand in the very back,” you beamed, “thank you so much, sir.”
“Of course,” he exhaled before opening up a drawer in his desk and plucking out a piece of paper, “this is the list of the required books,” he pushed it across the table before your eyes began to scan the titles, “I’m not sure if there are any copies left at the library, but maybe you can talk to some students, who has previously taken the course, if they bought a copy that you could borrow.” 
“I’ll make sure I have them, even if I’d have to steal them,” you jested. 
“Well, I don’t think I should sit here and encourage you to commit a felony, but I guess if you do get arrested, I can be your one phone-call,” he chuckled and went along with your joke, “so, about the other thing.”
“Yes,” you exhaled, both of your palms floating down to rest atop your thighs, “the kid–, kids?” 
“Just one, Benjamin, he’s six.” 
“Oh, that’s a fun age,” you smiled, “so, was it Friday?”
“Yeah, I have to attend this thing that I can’t get out of and it’s my turn to have him this week, but my ex is also busy that day, so yeah,” he sighed, “how about you just come over here after your classes that day and then we’ll hash out the rest?” 
“I will be there.”
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“What are you doing here?” you grumbled as you opened the door to your dorm room. 
“Well hello to you too, sunshine,” Bucky scoffed through a smile. 
“What do you want?” you held your grip on the edge of the door. 
“A thank you would suffice,” he tilted his head. 
Squinting your eyes at the lack of context, you muttered, “what?” 
“A little birdy told me you were looking for this?” he held up the book in his hand for you to spot, which just so happened to be the exact one you hadn’t been able to track down for Professor Parker’s class. 
“Blood, Phlegm, Yellow and Black Bile: A Brief History of the Four Humors by Helen Grey?” you swiftly snatch it from his fingers with a gasp, “where did you find it? I thought there weren’t any copies left at the library!” 
“There wasn’t,” he tilted his head, “I had a short stint back in my freshman year where I flirted with the fantasy of becoming a doctor, that was until I fell madly and deeply in love with journalism.” 
Glancing down at the cover, you uttered, “can I borrow it?”
But instead, to your surprise, Bucky countered, “you can have it. It’s yours, I don’t have any use for it, except if I suddenly got a burning desire to press some flowers,” he jested about the thickness of the tome.  
“Thank you, Bucky,” you blinked up at him with a smile before throwing your arms around his broad frame. Though as you hugged him, it didn’t take long before you pushed back to utter, “wait, this isn’t just some weird trick like last time, is it? Are you gonna make me do something dirty in return for the book?”
“I thought about it,” he admitted with a smirk, his gaze briefly dipping down your form, “but then I decided to just be nice.”
“What a foreign concept that must be for you…” you teased with the faint shake of your head, “glad you’re finally trying it out.” 
“Oh yeah, I’m terrified I’ll break out into hives,” he chuckled, leaning against the doorframe, “don’t tell anyone else, I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” 
And as you smiled back at him, you noticed how gratitude wasn’t the only sensation stirring in your soul, as a warm and fuzzy feeling began to flicker throughout your frame from the genuine gesture.
“So…” his eyes briefly trailed around the room behind you, “where’s your roommate at?” 
“At Delta Phi, hanging out with her girlfriend,” you murmured, “why?” 
And as his glance landed on you once again and the corners of his lips twitched, you heard him ask, “can I come in?” 
Sucking in a breath, you felt lightheaded as you uttered, “sure,” before stepping aside for him to enter. 
And that was how your stepbrother’s best friend ended up sitting on your tiny bed, his back pressed up against the wall, as he drew you further down in his lap and let his tongue dance against your own in a heated kiss. 
“I’m sorry, what?” you foggily tilted back as his muffled words flew over your head. 
“Move your hips,” he repeated, both of his palms denting your sides, “Steve said you have a habit of humping your cute little teddy bears and pillows and such,” his eyes briefly flickered to the plushies on the mattress beside him, “so just pretend that I am one, use me to make yourself feel good.” 
Blinking back at him a moment, it took you a while before you actually managed to make your pelvis move as the flabbergasted trance was harder to snap out of than you’d expected. Though as your hips cautiously rolled against his lap, a shaky breath slipped from your lungs as the friction of his palpable hardness nudging against your core caused you to shiver. It surely didn’t help matters either that the only thing shielding you from the sensation was the panties beneath your dress, which was quickly becoming so embarrassingly soaked that your want slowly began to stain the tent in his trousers. 
“That’s it,” he groaned as he leaned back to watch your timid efforts, “fuck…” 
At first, he let you steer the ship, carefully rocking down against him for an ounce of relief, but then when you tilted forward to capture his ravenous lips once again, his wide hands on your hips flexed before they took over your movements, instead rendering you just a puppet in his grasp as he grinded you down much more roughly than you’d dared to do on your own. 
“Shit, I don’t get you… how could this be enough for you?” he grunted as he grew impatient, “isn’t every molecule in your body screaming for you to get railed right now? Doesn’t this little pussy finally wanna get used?” 
“Buck, I–,” you panted as he nibbled against your neck, “I don’t know…” 
“Oh, you don’t know?” he couldn’t help but mock. 
“This feels r-really good to me,” your eyes fluttered as he kept on rocking you in his lap. 
“Well, it’s not good enough for me,” he growled before finally snapping and flipping you onto your back. Hovering above you as you collapsed on the small bed, he began to unbuckle his belt.
“I-I–, Bucky, I don’t think I’m ready for that–,” your eyes went wide as you watched him free his intimidatingly giant cock. 
“You sure? Not even a little bit?” he slowly began to twist his fist up and down the fat length, “it could just be the tip.”
Blinking down at the bulbous head, glistening with precum, you hazily shook your head, “n-no, it’s too big…” 
“Oh, I know it is,” he then reached out to shift your legs, slotting his dick in between your soft thighs before he paused to let a dollop of spit drop down from his lips and add some slickness before he slowly began to move, “is it because of Steve? Because I can keep a secret… I won’t tell if you don’t…”
Your eyes flickered down to his fat girth as he slid it between your thighs that he pressed together, “I thought you two told each other everything.”
“Well,” he smirked as he ripped his stare away to glance to your fuzzy expression, “I’m willing to make an exception…” 
Reaching down, he greedily squeezed your tits through the thin fabric of your dress, even catching your pebbly nipples in a pinch that caused you to gasp, before he slid his touch back down to either side of your legs. 
“What are you doing Friday night?” 
“Huh?” you panted as you were unable to tear your eyes away from his cock, slick between your trembling thighs. 
“Come over, the frat’s throwing another party,” he uttered from above you, “maybe we could sneak away when everyone else is hammered enough…” 
“I can’t, I have to babysit.” 
“Really?” he chuckled as his efforts migrated so far south that the heavy weight of him came to rest against your covered core, each greedy thrust now sliding against the soaked cotton and making you whimper, “I didn’t know you were into daddies…” 
“What?” you fought to comprehend his words as his fat girth skimmed across your clit, throbbing beneath the thin fabric of your underwear. 
“Never mind, sweetie,” he gave up with a slight laugh. 
Though as he stared down at your quivering form beneath him, his grip on the outside of your thighs tightened before he suddenly began to part them like the pages of a book.
“Oh, would you look at this…” he groaned as he revealed your sodden panties beneath his big cock, “you’ve fucking ruined these, haven’t you?” a teasing finger crept down to snap the waistband back against your skin, “you wanna feel me, huh? You wanna feel me right here?” he peered down at you as he tapped the heavy weight of himself against your covered centre. 
“I–…”
Hooking his thumb in the side of the gusset, he peeled your panties to the side, “do you?” shiny strings clung to the fabric as he kept it trapped in his grasp. 
“Yes,” you then uttered, surprising yourself as the only thing you could feel in this moment was your thumping heartbeat between your thighs. 
“Atta girl,” he grinned before lowering the length in his grip down against your glistening pussy. 
Trailing the bulbous tip through your wetness, he repeatedly parted your petals with his thick girth, the jarring comparison of his size directly against you making you dizzy. Though when his sweeping motion suddenly strayed further than before and he briefly held the entire length of him against, not only your cunt, but also your belly, then you feared you might actually faint beneath him. 
“See that?” he smirked as his heavy sack nuzzled against your quivering entrance while the tip of him reached all the way up to cover your bellybutton, “that’s how deep I’m gonna get when you finally let me inside…” groaning as he finally swept back down to flick his hardness through your sobbing petals, he cocked his head, “might break you, rearranging your guts like that, but fuck will it feel good…” 
And as you felt the world around you threaten to melt away in that blissful eruption you were slowly becoming more acquainted with, Bucky abruptly tore the intoxicating contact of his cock away from you. Though before you could part your lips in a complaint, your body instead quaked as he then tapped the hefty weight of himself repeatedly down against your puffy pearl, keeping the bullying up till you were writhing in pleasure beneath him. 
You thought you’d only blinked your eyes shut for a moment in the fog of it all, but when they fluttered back open, Bucky’s hot load decorated your messy pussy as he kneeled by you, panting as he offered his length one last squeeze. 
But just as you thought he’d let your panties snap back into place as a closing curtain to the show, he instead reached down to bully your tender core even further, smearing his cum against your aching clit before he swept his coated fingers down to tickle your leaky entrance in an attempt at stuffing as much of his load into your little hole as possible, though his greedy efforts eventually derailed when his fingers were stuffed so deep inside of you that you could barely breath at all, your nails digging into his forearm as he made you squirt all over your bed and the adorable teddy bears that layed scattered. 
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© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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iridescentparkers · 1 year ago
Note
tasm "can you kiss me a little bit first" pretty please with a cherry on top
hidden treasures
REMEMBER - FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! you can request a blurb using this list or this one (18+) and add whatever you want to your submission!!! here is the link
warnings - 18+ smut + light bondage
a/n - i hope you like this anon!
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AS HIS EYES FLUTTERED SHUT, Peter slowly turned his head, placing indents in his pillow. He lay face up beneath you, his hips jutting upwards inside of you as his consistent, gentle whimpers reverberated through the room. 
Earlier today, you both began cleaning out some old clothes from your drawers, and the unpacking sparked a new idea. When he looked around, peering his eyes through the scattered mess, layers of pantyhose and ribbons placed an…exciting idea in his mind.
“What if we-?” He muttered, biting the curve of his thumb while his widened gaze moved to you. “You used-“
“Excuse me?” You smiled, dropping clothes into piles from your spring cleaning. “Whatever you want, we’ll go slow.”
Silk tights. They slid so easily on his wrists, clinging to his slender wrists. Now, where he lay, his hands were tied together in the thin stretchy fabric. 
You sink deeper into him, arching forward, making your breasts extend closer to his being. Peter moaned louder with each slow, jutting movement, and you chuckled as you watched him grow closer and closer to coming beneath you. 
"I'm going to tie this around your eyes. Okay?" You asked before he nodded.
Grabbing one of his old ties, you wrapped the accessory around his eyes, depriving him of the sight of watching you fuck him. He moaned louder as you maneuvered to grab the material while you remained on him. Peter’s mouth hung loosely open, unable to salvage the silence cushioning the room. 
“Aww, you want everyone to hear how needy you are.” You asked, riding on him, slowing the steady pace. “Want everyone to know how bad you need me, huh?”
“Please,” he whimpered, his fingers that were wound in the fabric grazing the inside of your thigh as they sat on his stomach. “Can you-?”
“What is it, baby,” you teased, gliding your hands across his chest. “Hmm?”
You were near his cheek, your breath tickling his earlobe. “Can you kiss me? A little bit first. Please?”
“Of course I can, baby.” You laughed, peppering kisses on his cheek before moving to his mouth. His lips, soft and pink, poked around to find your face before you put your hand on his chin and guided him to your lips. Each soft kiss, caused him to moan more sounds in your mouth. You pulled away, grinning at his vunrable state, “I love you.”
Your words ghosted across his skin as he lay back, teasing his fingertips along the insides of your legs, “I love you.”
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