#tasm!peter parker au
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bruisedboys · 11 months 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 · 1 year 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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mrshipsmcgee · 2 years ago
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A Lord & A Lady: Part 5
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TASM!Peter Parker x (fem)Reader - Bridgerton AU
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven
Summary: The Duchess and Lord Peter host a pre-wedding celebration. (Third person to get the story moving ;) )
Warnings: mentioning of consumption of alcohol, mentions of poisoning, mentions of a hostage situation
For Katie & Liz
——————————
Standing hidden in the shadows of a second floor window, the Duchess watches on as the indigo sunset sneaks away behind the tree line of her family’s old vacation home - now her home. There she stands, watching on as the people of the Ton flock to her home in their most beautiful dresses and most dashing suits, marveling at the long forgotten spacious estate.
The cobblestone and brick mansion was covered with overgrown ivy - a nuisance to many, but one of the Duchess’ most favorite parts of her home. The long, pebbled entrance to the estate was lined with candlelight and flowers, welcoming eager party guests in for celebration.
Music plays faintly through the halls of the manor, echoing against the walls, along with the chatter from the growing crowd on the main floor of the home.
A calming, raspy voice broke through the noise - “You do not suffer from cold feet, do you, my dear fiancé?”
The Duchess smiles softly to herself before turning towards the voice of her betrothed, who was standing a few steps away from her with a smile spread across his handsome face, adjusting his navy suit just as she glances his way, “Now, my dear Peter - that is an awfully silly question.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle - “Then what on earth is plaguing that beautiful mind of yours, Blue?” His brows furrow inquisitively. “Why are you hiding away from your own engagement ball?”
She bites the inside of her cheek before letting out a sigh - “I am nervous, Peter.” Her shoes click as she steps over to the man, gazing up at him before resting her forehead on his shoulder, letting out another sigh. “I just needed a moment to breathe, I suppose.”
Lord Peter’s warm fingertips move down to the Duchess’ chin, thumb and finger gently urging her gaze upward to meet his warm eyes - “I know that it seems as if the entire Ton will consume you, but I swear I am here to pull you out if they do. You say the word and I will whisk you away to wherever your heart desires,” he pulls her face to his, delicately kissing the tip of her nose before letting out a sharp exhale through his nose, followed by a cheeky grin. “If it brings you peace, you should know that the staff has prepared our favorite foods. I promise, my Bluebell, all of this should be over in just a few hours. The last of our required pleasantries will be over after this evening.”
The small smile on the Duchess’ beautiful face melts into a sorrowful look, biting her inner cheek yet again. “Peter, that isn’t it.. I feel as if something is afoot. Or - or something has gone wrong,” she explains, standing up a little straighter and placing her palm on her gut. “I feel it - deep within me. I feel as if something is watching me… Watching us.”
Peter slightly shakes his head - “It is just you and I, my love. You are safe with me,” he murmurs, his calloused fingertips spreading to cup his hand to her cheek - “No one dare watch you. No one would dare hurt you. If someone were to hurt you, I do not care to think of how I would defend you.. how I would protect you. They should pray a doctor is near if someone were to ever have the thought of harming a single hair on your beautiful head. I will always protect you. I vow it already. Until this day forward..”
He pauses - his opposite hand cups her cheek, bringing her forehead to his, “Only one more day until you are my wife. This party is just one last bump in the road until we are one. You say the word, Your Grace - and I will immediately escort you out to wherever you want.”
The Duchess smiles, shaking off the lurking paranoia in her gut and focusing on Peter’s comforting words.
“Let us go on and get things over with, my dear Peter,” she says, sweetly grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hallways towards the main staircase of the manor. “Peter, do you remember running down these halls in the summers?” She says as she continues to lead him towards the party.
“Anthony Bridgerton chasing us down the hallway wearing a white sheet to appear as a ghost is something I will never forget,” Peter says with a laugh. “He made sure the candles were always blown out and then appeared as the ghost. Mr. Cobblestone?”
“Cobblesworth!” she exclaims, rounding the corner, still pulling Peter behind her, “why on earth Ant thought that was a frightening name, I shall never-“.
“Of course I find the two of you running down the halls like you are mere children,” Lady May’s voice rang out, stopping both Lord Peter and the Duchess in their tracks. She smiles at the couple, nodding her head towards the staircase, “You two are needed downstairs. Your guests are expecting you.”
Lord Peter extends his arm towards the Duchess, holding his wide hand out, “Shall we, my dear fiancé?” He smirks, bouncing his brows at her. A small laugh erupts from the Duchess as she places her gloved hand into his, “We shall, my dear Peter.”
The betrothed step forward towards the top of the grand staircase lined with flowers and glowing lanterns extending down to the crowded dance floor where people began to stop and stare at the beautiful couple descending down the stairs.
“You look absolutely breathtaking,” Peter whispers to his bride. “I feel as if I cannot fathom that this is truly our own engagement ball.”
“I feel as if we are playing make believe, Peter,” the Duchess breathes, glancing his way. “This moment feels like a dream. Are we truly to marry tomorrow? We simply cannot be this old.”
Peter lets out a laugh as they reach the end of the staircase and step onto the marble dance floor, immediately greeted by Lady Danbury and Sarah.
“Lord Peter. Your Grace,” the two women curtsy to the couple.
“Sarah, Lady Danbury,” the Duchess smiles, reaching her hands out to two women. “This is beautiful, beyond my dreams - beautiful. It would not be so without the two of you, and of course - our lovely Lady May.”
May smiles and reaches her hand out to cup the Duchess’ shoulder, “This has truly been our pleasure, Your Grace. I simply cannot believe that tonight is a celebration for the two of you.. you still are those rambunctious children to me. Oh,” she pauses, tears beginning to form in her kind eyes before she quietly clears her throat, “Nevermind me. Tonight is a night for joy. I truly hope the two of you enjoy yourselves greatly.”
Peter clears his throat, gently wrapping his arm around Lady May’s shoulder and placing a tender kiss on her forehead, “oh, how I love you.” He looks down at her and scrunches his nose with a smile - “Though, I am convinced that you want me to shed a tear this evening, Aunt May.”
She lets out a scoffing laugh and touches her pointer finger to the tip of Peter’s nose, “Go, get drinks - enjoy yourselves. Us old hags will be around.”
Peter turns to his betrothed, holding out his hand to her - “My dear Bluebell, would you care for a dance?”
The Duchess smirks up at her fiancé, placing her hand in his - “I truly thought you would never ask, my dear Peter.”
Lord Peter leads his Bluebell through the crowd as the music plays on, pausing as they reach the middle of the dance floor.
The party guests dance around where the couple stands, just feet apart from one another underneath the ornate, candle lit chandelier in the vast ballroom. Peter steps towards his soon to be bride, slightly bowing his head to her - a smile spreading across her beautiful face before she replies with a small curtsy.
Peter reaches his hand out, fingertips gently brushing along the fabric of her gown, bringing her closer to his chest before placing his flat palm onto her lower back. Simply touching the Duchess had Peter nearly breathless, but he proceeds - his vacant hand tenderly wrapping around hers as he guides them, beginning to dance along with the crowd.
“I am so pleased to no longer have to lead us in dancing, Peter,” the Duchess giggles as they dance around the room. “Your foot has not once touched mine. I am impressed, Parker.”
Peter lets out a loud laugh, “I am also no longer shorter than you.. by far.”
“Lord Parker!” Anthony Bridgerton exclaims as he and his wife, Kate, near the couple on the ballroom floor, waltzing towards them with eager smiles.
“In the flesh, Lord Bridgerton! You must be Kate!” Peter speaks over the music. The beautiful woman in Anthony Bridgerton’s arms nods with a small smile, “I am!”
“Ah, well - I give you my sincerest apologies and condolences for having to put up with my dear old mate!” Peter jokes. “It takes a special woman to tolerate Anthony Bridgerton!”
The Duchess lets out a snort and Anthony scoffs, his tone playful as he says - “Peter Parker, I had planned to toast you and your beautiful fiancé, however I shall now refrain from that due to your blatant rudeness!”
“Please, I beg of you! Show me mercy, Lord Bridgerton!” Peter says dramatically as the song ends, “Please, Ant - forgive my unpleasantness and toast me!”
Anthony rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a devilish smile as he claps his hands, “I would like to propose a toast to the beautiful couple!” The crowd silences, turning towards where the four stood in the middle of the dance floor.
The staff hurriedly disperse drinks to the party guests and hosts - most everyone grabbing a beverage from the trays from which they were being served; the Duchess and Lord Peter receiving their drinks hand-delivered.
With drinks in hand the crowd listens on as Lord Anthony Bridgerton speaks, “I have had the pleasure of knowing the soon to be bride and groom since I was a small boy,” he pauses, looking towards Peter and his Bluebell, flashing them a knowing look before he continues, “Actually - I have had the privilege of knowing these two since before I can remember. In fact, we used to play in this very home.” He looks up at the beautiful glass ceiling - the stars still shining brightly down upon him - though the amber glow of the candlestick chandelier illuminated the room. “I believe I can speak for all of us children who got to spend the summers running through these halls and playing make believe when I say that these are hallowed grounds. This home is magic. The family that resided here was magic.”
Anthony looks at the Duchess, his dark eyes so kind - as if he were a boy again as he spoke - “oh, the make believe games we would play.. This home used to be a pirate ship… or - or a mythical castle… and now it is your home, Your Grace; soon to be the home you share with Lord Parker. Hopefully one day, a home where the small patter of feet hitting the floor resides again.”
The crowd is full of sporadic giggles.
Peter and the Duchess look to one another, exchanging loving glances before turning back to Anthony, who continues - “Lord Parker, Your Grace… I pray you have a life filled with immense joy, prosperity - and that you will always and forever share a passionate love for one another.”
Anthony raises his glass, looking around the room and winking at Kate, “Please, raise your glass with me in honor of the beautiful couple.”
The crowd of people raise their glass-filled hands to the sky as Anthony says - “Cheers!”
“Cheers!” The crowd answers in return before taking a sip from their glass, cheering and clapping as the music starts back up.
“Anthony,” the Duchess coos, stepping towards him. “That was absolutely beautiful. Thank you.”
“Ant, you should be in politics the way you commanded that crowd!” Peter quips, poking his fingertips towards Anthony’s ribs, causing him to retaliate with a shoulder to Peter’s - poking him back. “Only if you do it with me!”
“Lady Bridgerton,” the Duchess smiles, stepping towards the striking woman in purple. “It is so lovely to finally meet the woman who stole my mate’s heart.” She scrunches her nose, leaning towards Kate and gently grabbing onto her hand, whispering - “You are far too beautiful for Anthony Bridgerton. Who put you up to this marriage?”
Kate bites her lips between her teeth - trying to contain a smile before letting out a chuckle and squeezing the Duchess’ hand - “Anthony told me you are as humorous as you are beautiful. It is so nice to finally meet you, Your Grace.”
“Ah - formalities…” the Duchess smiles, “Peter has started calling me Blue as of late, and I quite like it. So how about that, Lady Bridgerton?”
“If I call you Blue you shall call me Kate. No more formalities, yes?” Kate replies with a squeeze of her hand before Anthony and Peter approach them.
“Mrs. Bridgerton - we are needed in the drawing room,” Anthony smiles, squeezing Kate’s side - her beautiful face turning into an embarrassed smile just as Peter turns to the Duchess.
Peter’s soft lips brush against her ear as he leans into the Duchess - one arm barely brushing against her waist as he whispers , “We are needed in the foyer - Lady Danbury’s carriage leaves within the half hour. We must see her out.”
“We shall see you onward into the evening,” Anthony says, pulling his wife away from the crowd.
“See you, Bridgerton,” Peter says with a half smile, turning towards the Duchess - his hand urging her towards the main entrance of the mansion.
They walk towards the crowd and into the now quiet entrance of the home, meeting Lady Danbury as she awaits her departure. She stands, gripping her cane just as her carriage pulls up to the open front doors of the manor -, she turns towards the couple, smiling sweetly - “This evening was absolutely beautiful. I will see the two of you tomorrow evening.” She sighs, looking between the couple before she says, “Enjoy the rest of this event. Cherish it, for tomorrow you become husband and wife.”
Just as Lady Danbury steps into the carriage, Peter is pulled away by - “Benedict Bridgerton,” he turns, placing his hand on his friend’s back, “Just the man I was looking for.”
Benedict stops and turns to Peter, his eyes glancing quickly to the Duchess before averting back to Peter, “Lord Parker, Duchess.” He bows before taking a small sip from the glass in his hand, “Thanks for having me.”
The Duchess notices a strange tingling feeling growing on her cheeks, which also feel flush all of the sudden. Benedict and Peter exchange conversation, but their words are far too muffled for the Duchess to understand - and now that she is trying to read their lips she’s realized that her vision has grown blurry too.
She blinks, trying to see a little clearer, just as Peter places his hand on her back - his voice is muffled as he speaks. The Duchess turns to Peter, her vision finally clearing a bit as he says, “Are you okay?”
The Duchess slightly shakes her head, looking dazed and a little frightened before she says, “I - yes, yes - Peter. I believe I may have just had a few too many drinks this evening.” She looks over to Benedict and then back to Peter before she says, “Don’t mind me, you two seemed as if you were in deep conversation - I will go get a breath of fresh air outside and find you later, Peter.” She nods to her friend, “Benedict.”
“Would you like for us to escort you?” Peter says before the Duchess can leave, his honey eyes pierced through her blurred vision - “Are you sure you are alright, my Bluebell?”
“Do not worry about me. Do not spoil your fun with Benedict on my behalf - I shall only be a moment, Peter,” she says before excusing herself.
-
The Duchess stands yards away from the beautiful mansion - watching on as the blurry silhouettes of party guests dance around the ballroom. Muffled music plays on as she turns towards the babbling, wide creek behind her - one of her most favorite parts of her property. Limestone rock glistens underneath the stream, glinting off of the distant amber glow coming from the bustling manor.
The water seems to sparkle due to the Duchess’ growing dizziness. The chitters of animals and humming of insects from the forest just beyond the creek grow louder, overwhelming her senses.
She falls to the ground with a grunt as her head hits the grass, her vision meeting the blurred starry sky above where she lay.
“There you are, Your Grace,” a voice says from above her as a man appears in her vision.
“Peter?” She moans, barely able to open her eyes. “Something seems to be the matter. I cannot stand.”
A hand reaches down and scoops the Duchess up from the ground and onto her feet, a strong arm wrapping around her waist as her body starts to fail again, her head going limp as she stares up towards the night sky.
“Curare,” the man says, scooping her legs into his arm, cradling her as he continues - “Do you know what Curare is, Your Grace?”
She lets out a small moan, her body completely limp in his arms - her weak eyes fixated on the sky.
“Curare is a paralyzing agent, Your Grace. It’s a poison that weakens your skeletal muscles; too much Curare can cause death,” the man says as the Duchess’ eyes finally meet him.
The tall brute that tried to assault her at the Bridgerton Ball months ago stood with her tired body in his arms. The same man that snuck into her room and hid in her wardrobe for hours hoping to rob her of her innocence, hoping for a scandal to get the Duchess to marry.
“Fredrick,” she whispers, barely able to speak at all.
Her heart races realizing she cannot scream for Peter. She cannot run. There is no escape.
A devilish smile spreads across his face, “Curare comes from a plant boiled and strained into bitter paste. How were your special made drinks this evening, Duchess? Could you notice the bitterness, or are you so innocent and sheltered that you do not know what spirits taste like?”
The Duchess’ eyes are filled with hot tears as she whispers, “Why?”
“Simply? I want your riches, and I truly do not care how I attain them at this point - so you shall come with me and I shall leave this ransom note right here on the grass for your fiancé to find later on in the evening when he cannot locate you,” Sir Fredrick says with a smile. “And who knows what could happen to the poor, defenseless Duchess while Lord Parker tries to locate her?”
The Duchess lets out a small, close-mouthed whimper as Sir Fredrick tosses her over his shoulder and tosses the ransom note to the ground and begins to walk away with the Duchess and into the dark night.
-
“Bridgerton, I simply cannot do another shot,” Peter yells over the string music and the roaring crowd of party guests. His eyes scan around the room before he turns back to Benedict, “One moment, Ben - I must check on my beautiful fiancé.” He holds up a finger and makes his way to the French doors leading towards the stone path to the creek, recalling seeing the Duchess head that way for a breath of fresh air.
Peter crosses the threshold to the cool night air, carding his hands through his greased locks as he surveys the waterline, not seeing his future bride.. but seeing something on the ground in the distance.
He jogs over without hesitation, nearing the cream-colored paper laying on the grass, his fingertips clasping the page reading the penned note demanding money in exchange for the Duchess’ life.
All of the life leaves Peter’s body as his stomach drops, his throat drying immediately, unable to even swallow as he desperately searches the area for any glimpse of his bride - his best friend.
Tears brim in his frightened eyes as he falls to his knees, gripping the earth beneath him as he tries to keep his composure - though hot tears run down his handsome face, dripping onto his suit.
He turns towards the manor, screaming from the very core of his soul, wailing “Benedict! Ant!” He cries - screaming out for the Duchess before something clicks in his head, something he had only felt once before.
Rage.
——————————
Well, dear Reader - what do you think? I’d love to know. What will happen to the Duchess? Will Peter save her in time? Find out in Part Six!
I hope you enjoyed! Sorry for such a long wait!
- <3 Cait
A Lord & A Lady Taglist: @loserbee14 @fk12b @todaywasafairytale07 @bellestalesoffiction @nayspy @splintered-emotions @dark-night-sky-99 @panic-at-space-camp @dxmerons @jeezlouiisee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @strangerdangerwrites @spiidergirlsworld @softyutae @kas-1 @lovelyweepingrebel
TASM tag list: @lendeluxe
Tag List: @rose-writes-shit @xuxialling @itwasallinmyhead1 @mypalbuck @angelcritterz @levylovegood @gwenebear @saltedcoffeescotch @thelittlebirdwriter @mbjackie @kiwi5335 @nikkitc0703 @laurathefahrradsattel @lizabethmenke @cheeseman @blooming-violets @haileymorelikestupid @uwiuwi @themartiansdaughter @florqlness @aphrodites-perfume @andrews-lovr @luvvvjada @liz-allyn @abibliophobiaa
General Tag List: @witheringawayagain
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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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iridescentparkers · 6 months 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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lovelettersforthedamned · 10 months 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 · 1 year 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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strawberriesandstories · 2 months ago
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tasm!peter pushing reader away bc in his mind he should love Gwen more? then he realizes he was stupid and confesses his love to reader?
Hi!!! Sorry this took a while I’ve been on holidays xx (also I changed this just a little at the end because I was running out of time to post it)
w/c: 600
warnings: mentions of death and grief, NOT PROOF READ
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“I’m Sorry”
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Peter loved y/n he knew that, he loved the way her hair shined in the sun and the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled.
He loved her
But she wasn’t the one…Gwen had been the one, Gwen had been perfect, she had been his other half. Y/n was lovely but he couldn’t help but think he was leading her on.
It took two years for him to finally start dating again and it took him another 6 months to actually treat anyone seriously.
But then came you, it had been a surprise really, but isn’t that how most things are with love? You had been the waitress at the cafe he was meeting one of his tinder date at and it…well something happened. It was friendship at first but two weeks in he found himself deleting tinder and hinge, he told himself it wasn’t like that but both off you knew it was.
So now here he was waiting in a washed out diner to tell her the truth, that nothing could happen between them and that this ‘situationship’ couldn’t go on anymore. He couldn’t do this to you it wasn’t fair, he needed to put an end to whatever this relationship was becoming.
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You gazed at your reflection unsure in what you were seeing. You weren’t sure that the pale pink halter top and white maxi skirt did anything for your figure-
No it’s fine, I look fine.
Peter had complimented that skirt before, you knew he liked it, today was going to be good, he said he needed to confess something. Maybe he had decided to finally go a step forward and officially ask you out.
Maybe
You walked along the cobbled pavement your sandals scraping against the stone, these where your favourite shoes; practical, cute and comfy. You had bought them on a shopping trip with Peter, he had insisted on buying them for you. He had claimed that they went with your ‘vibe’ you didn’t really know what he meant by that but you took them anyway happy he was thinking of you.
Finally you reached the diner opening the door with a push.
There he was sitting in a booth by the corner, he was staring out the window watching the people go by.
“Hey”
He looked up
“Hi” 
Silence stretched between you both before you took a seat on the other side of the booth.
“So? What’s up?” You tried not to sound to eager, there was every chance this was just a normal hangout.
Peter paused scratching his head before quietly saying
“We need to-I need to stop, I’ve got a lot of shit on right now-“
his voice broke he couldn’t-wouldn’t tell you about Gwen, not after promising it was no longer an issue when you both had first became friends.
You felt your face drop
Of course
It was stupid to get your hopes up, stupid to hope this was going to become something.
“Oh” 
you murmured heat rushing to your cheeks as you forced yourself to look away from the brunette.
“I’m sorry”
And that was that, it was over. You stood up embarrassment hot on your face and walked away.
This was so stupid, you were so stupid, why did you let this go on for so long?
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Weeks turned into months which eventually turned into a year which eventually turned into a year and a half and Peter still hadn’t heard from you. Of course he didn’t exactly go out of his way to find you either but still he missed you.
He found himself looking for you in everything. A seashell necklace that glittered in the sun or a bouquet of sunflowers that smelt like hope. Every girl he encountered he searched for just a little bit of you in them, their eyes or their hair or even their small mannerisms. 
This was a mistake he knew it, he never should have pushed you away. 
He loved you
And he needed to find you
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withahappyrefrain · 2 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 · 11 months ago
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(primarily) tasm!peter parker fic recs (pt.2)
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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 · 6 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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liz-allyn · 3 months ago
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sugar + vice - the collection (so far)
a mafia love story • TASM!Peter Parker x OFC/MJ! Variant Read on AO3 because, yeah.
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Over a decade ago, Peter Parker of this (alternate) universe survived a horrible tragedy and saw firsthand the depth of New York City's corruption. He challenged the Underworld and conquered it. Now, he's its god.
The last thing he needs is some sweet Persephone — at a coffee shop, no less — smiling at him, charming him, intriguing him. Tempting him.
Innocence never tasted so sweet.
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VOLUME 1
Ch.1 | Ch. 2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4 | Ch.5 | Ch.6 | Ch.7 | Ch.8 | Ch.9 | Ch.10 | Ch.11 | Ch.12 | Ch.13 | Ch.14 | Ch.15 | Ch.16 | Ch.17 | Ch.18 | Ch.19 | Ch.20 | Ch.21 | Ch.22 | Ch.23 | Epilogue [complete; 172k words, mob!au] 🌶⚔️ ❤️‍🩹
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VOLUME 2 [in progress]
1 • Love On The Brain 11.9k words 🌶
2 • Bittersweet 5.6k words NEW ❤️‍🩹
INTERLUDES (coming soon)
New Rules • Of Monsters and Men • Mother's Day • The Perfect Drug • Madripoor • The Skulls • Eye for an Eye • A Simple Favor
+ bonus content below
SPOTIFY PLAYLISTS
Other tags: Can be considered 'Reader', No physical descriptions, NO use of Y/N, Angst, Sensitive Content Warning, Read the Warnings, Enemies to Lovers, Mob!Peter, Mafia!AU, Peter Parker is a Mess, Rich Peter Parker, Mob!Peter Parker, Childhood Trauma, Blood and Injury, So Much Pining, no y/n, Forced Cohabitation, Past Domestic Ab*se, A mafia story that's actually violent and not silly, Forced Relationship, Slow Burn, Cute Dates, Protective Peter Parker, BAMF Peter Parker, Sugar Daddy, Smut, Recreational Drug Use, Enemies to Friends to Idiots to Lovers, Addiction, Yandere!Peter sorta, Steamy Photo Sessions, Mildly Dubious Consent, Expl*cit S**ual Content, Sexual Tension, Mutual M*sturb*tion, Dark Past, Secrets, Dark Peter Parker, Past Peter Parker/Gwen Stacy (The Amazing Spider-Man), New York City, Kidnapping, Coffee Shop Meet Cute, Superior Spider
Enjoyed the story? Reblog and follow :-)
back to main masterlist
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frankoceanluvrr · 2 years ago
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𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 — 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑
pairing : fem!reader x peter parker, reunited childhood friends to lovers 😫, college!au
warnings : english isn’t my first language, so there could be a couple of grammatical mistakes! plz lmk if u see them! This is so long btw I’m sorry 😭
summary : before he moved away, he gave her a necklace to remember him by. she hasn’t taken it off since.
a/n : you can imagine any peter for this, not specifically tasm i just like the gif -> mj will be included, u can imagine mary or michelle it’s up to you😊 also tysm for 19 followers!!!!!!!!
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“Take this,” the young boy sighed, passing the necklace, “it’ll be a reminder of me or whatever. I know I’m not dying or anything but I don’t think we’ll see each other again in person.”
“You really think so?” You sniffled.
“Hey, don’t start crying now you big baby, we can still email and call each other” Peter smiled, nudging your arm.
“You’re the baby, not me, I just had something in my eye.”
“Yeah right [Name], you’re like totally miserable I’m going.”
“You’re the one who got me the necklace! It’s really pretty by the way, I love it,” You said, “I can’t believe you’re leaving me before high school though”
“Look, just promise me we’ll keep in touch?” He asked, eyes meeting yours, “and even if we don’t, take care of the necklace for me?”
“Promise.”
And you hadn’t seen him since that day. It wasn’t like you didn’t try to keep in touch though, it was just a matter of life getting in the way. You had been good friends ever since you were little kids, you had always felt it was a shame you never got to see each other grow up properly. He never forgot you either.
But let’s not dwell on the past. First day of college and you were a wreck. You had always hated change, and you were nervous going somewhere and not knowing anyone except your extremely antisocial roommate, Mj.
You fiddled with your necklace as you struggled to find the room you were in.
“Um, sorry to bother you, but do you know where Professor Browne would be?” You asked, tapping the tall boy on the shoulder.
He turned around, soft eyes looking down at yours, then to your necklace. He smiled, waiting to see your reaction after seeing your childhood friend after years, only to be met with your polite smile. In your defence, he looked completely different. Being bit by a radioactive spider changes a person, including their physique, but it especially changes them while they’re still growing into their bodies. When you knew Peter, he was around about the same height as you and a little chubby. He was now tall and lean, the only thing that hadn’t changed were his brown eyes.
“It’s just down the hall.” He pointed, directing you toward where you were meant to be.
In reality, he was slightly hurt you didn’t recognise him.
“I’m Peter, by the way.” He said, in hopes you’d remember him by his name.
“I’m [Name], thank you for helping me! It was really nice to meet you, but I really need to get going. Thank you again!” You smiled as you walked off.
He felt the urge to call after you, then it dawned on him you probably forgot about your friendship with him. Which obviously wasn’t true, you just didn’t recognise him, but he kept convincing himself it was because you forgot.
“Wait, Peter?” You turned around, “like the Peter from middle school?”
“Took you long enough to realise.” He laughed.
“Shut up no way! You’re kidding right? You look so different! We really need to catch up, what’s your number?” You said, eyes bright and wide.
“Oh, hitting on me already [Name]?” He smirked playfully.
He ended up giving his number as you hurriedly walked to your class, even though you were barely late.
After your class, you decided to meet up with Peter at a nearby cafe. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, but you were excited regardless.
“Hey,” you smiled sheepishly, “what are the chances, right?”
“Your necklace,” he said, completely ignoring what you said, “you kept it?”
“I promised, remember? It’s beautiful.”
He could only blush at what you said, the fact you kept it after all these years meant so much to him. He remembers the day he picked the necklace for you so vividly, because it was the day he was going to confess his feelings for you. He never did, but he doesn’t regret it since it wouldn’t have worked out anyway, you were both young and he was moving away. Relationship set up for failure.
“How did you even recognise me?” He asked, looking at you with curiosity.
“Your eyes.” you smiled warmly.
“Stop flirting with me, [Name]. I know I’m incredibly handsome and all-”
“You’re still a major geek, by the way.” You cut him off, “biophysics, really? I knew you had a thing for science but wow.”
“Hey! No need for that honestly, we both used to like science” He raised his hands in defence.
“Yeah, used to. Past tense.” You rolled your eyes playfully.
The conversation flowed so easily. It was as if he never left, you talked till cafe closed which was around 10pm.
“Hey, let me walk you to your dorm. I’m sure mine nearby anyway.” He shrugged.
“So chivalrous, Parker. Really, I’m impressed.” You teased, walking beside him, “oh, that totally reminds me, you know spiderman right?”
“Uh, I’ve heard of him before”
“Yeah okay right, you’ve never seen me and him in the same room before,” you started, “I’m definitely him, this is me telling you.”
“Wow, thank you so much [Name] for telling me this massive secret of yours, no idea how you could keep it to yourself honestly.”
“It’s about time I let the whole world know, don’t you think?”
You honestly didn’t mean anything by these comments, you were just joking around, but Peter could feel his heart tighten a bit. He felt like you knew he was Spiderman, which was impossible, but it still worried him.
“Anyways, thanks for dropping me off,” you smiled, “it was really sweet of you.”
He blushed, but you could barely see because it was so dark.
“Before you go,” He said, grabbing your hand as you turned around, “I just wanted to tell you I really missed you.”
You could feel yourself melt a little, “I missed you too.”
He waited for you to go into your dorm as you waved goodbye. His dorm was actually on the other side of campus, he just wanted to walk you.
He spent the whole night thinking about you, how pretty you’d become, how you were still kind. He could feel himself falling for you again already, your energy was just so attractive to him.
Chapter (?) 2 : Late Night Calls
It had been months since you guys had reunited, and you had grown closer than before. It was about 2am and you were still studying. You could feel yourself drowning in what felt like millions of topics, constantly feeling the need to check your phone. You had texted Peter and he hadn’t replied, so throwing yourself into your work was apparently the best option. You liked him so much. It felt silly to have such a big crush on him, but he treated you so well.
While you were studying, Peter was out on night patrol. Balancing education and heroism was always difficult, it left him feeling so overwhelmed he’d shut people out. During night patrol, he’d gotten into a pretty bad fight. He found himself swinging to campus, more specifically your dorm.
Your phone buzzed.
Incoming call..
You answered, squinting at the bright light coming from the device, “Hello?”
“[Name]? I’m so sorry to bother you, but can I come over?” His voice rushed and breathless.
You sat up, feeling way more awake, “Is everything okay? What’s happened? Are you out?”
Your questions were interrupted by a soft knock on the window.
Peter had gotten used to the quick clothes changing by now. He left his suit nearby outside, he was 99% sure no one would take it.
You walked to your window to see Peter, but he had several cuts and bruises across his face.
“Oh my God” you gasped under your breath, trying to stay quiet as you opened the window.
He came through the window as you sat him on your bed.
“Just stay here,” you whispered, “there’s a first aid kit in the other room.”
You came back with the first aid kit and began to help him, no questions asked yet.
“Thank you,” his voice inaudible, “I mean it, you’re so sweet [Name].”
“How did you get to the window?” You asked, placing a bandage on his head.
“Uh, adrenaline?”
You furrowed your eyebrows, “what happened?”
He sighed, avoiding eye contact with you. Was he really about to tell you his secret?
“I’m Spiderman.”
“What?” You said, forgetting all about mj sleeping in the other room.
You quickly brought a hand to your mouth, eyes still wide.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s a shock, I just haven’t told anyone before.” He started, “but um, I have something else to tell you.”
He reached for your hands, squeezing them slightly, “I really like you, [Name].”
Your eyes were practically about to pop out your head.
“You’re joking right?” You chuckled sheepishly.
“No, Im serious [Name]. I love everything about you. I love your smile, your laugh. God I love your laugh.”
Your brain was trying to process all of this without making too much of a scene.
Your hands reached for his cheek, “Can I?”
He answered your question by planting a soft kiss on your lips, smiling into it.
You pulled away, “I really like you too, Parker.”
All he could do was blush.
“I cant believe you’re Spiderman, though. I have a million questions.” You laughed.
“Shoot.”
a/n : so sorry this is so rushed 😭 i just wanted to finish it idk why this has taken me SO long to write
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equalheart · 2 years ago
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his hoodie
𓆩♡𓆪 — tasm!peter x gn!reader (but could also be any peter!), fluff (like ew cutesy type of fluff), established relationship, kinda suggestive-y joke?
“Are you really wearing my hoodie right now?” Peter can’t hold back his smile when you come down the stairs. You’re wearing his zip up with some shorts, and one of your t-shirts underneath—something so simple yet he can’t stop staring. “Yeah, is there a problem?”
He chuckles at your teasing tone. “No.. no problem at all. I really like it” he stutters over himself while wrapping one arm around your waist, and you don’t hesitate to put your arms around his broad shoulders. “I really like it too.” you smile as he leans into a kiss, smiling inbetween.
He hums “you should wear my clothes more often, you look great.” You pull entirely off of him. “I don’t look great always?” You fake a scoff and turn around. “Hey, hey, woah. We both know you look great always. Maybe my clothes make you look extra great. Seeing you in them makes me feel great.” You turn, notice a tint to his cheeks and he grabs your waist again. Your hands sit on his chest.
“Let me make you feel extra great.” You mutter on his lips, leaning into another kiss.
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blackcatwriter · 2 months ago
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Late Night Studying (tasm! Peter Parker x f!reader)
a/n: I love fictional men what can I say. I personally imagine this as andrew garfield's peter parker but feel free to imagine him however you want! Also Gwen doesn't die in this universe so no need to worry about that :]
Shout out to @scumscumpooties47 for your editing. Your comments on my google docs always make me cackle.
warnings: just fluff here, set to be in college but no specific age/grade, Peter is set to be taller than you (sorry if you like them shorter)
wc: 936
summary: You decide to study in your dorm lounge and unexpectedly make a new friend.
line divider by @plum98
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It has been a long and grueling day for you. Syllabus week was over and now your professors began assigning real work, which, for you, meant endless studying and staring at your computer screen. 
You had been sitting at your desk for what might’ve been four hours now with a blank page pulled up on your google docs. Not only had your professor assigned a five chapter reading, but a reflective ten page paper due by the end of next week. Groaning, you shut your laptop closed. 
Not noticing your surroundings, you hadn’t seen that your roommate was already in bed fast asleep. The only light in the room came from the lamp on your desk. Rubbing your eyes, you looked at your clock and checked the time. 
12:25AM
With a tired sigh, you stood from your desk with your laptop in hand and left the room. You clearly weren’t getting any sleep tonight so no use in bothering your roommate from their sleep. Walking out as quietly as you could, you left to go work in your dorm lounge. Maybe a change of scenery would help with the writer’s block. 
“Damn professor…” You muttered under your breath as you opened the door to the lounge. Catching you off guard, the door came to a halt halfway. “What professor has you up this late already?” A voice sounded from the other side of the door.
Towering over you, a lankish guy stood in front of you. He wore a cheesy mathematics shirt with gray sweats and dripping wet brunette hair. “Just my English class–I’m sorry, are you alright?” You looked him up and down.
“What? Oh! This?” He looked down to the towel in his hand and shrugged. “I took a shower and forgot the keys to my room. My roommate is coming back from a party so I’m just waiting it out here.” He said sheepishly as he sat back down on the sofa.
“You might have bad luck, but great fashion taste.” You grinned, fighting your laughter. After spending most of the day by yourself with just a computer for company, it couldn’t be blamed if you felt a little delirious. Or at least delirious enough to not care if you’re making a fool of yourself to some guy you’ve never talked to.
“You know how to make a guy feel real good about himself.” He narrowed his eyes yet responded in a playful tone. “I’ve seen you passing in the hall before, but I don’t think we’ve ever talked before. I’m Peter.” 
You introduced yourself and continued your lighthearted bantering. Peter, whose full name was Peter Parker, revealed himself to be from Queens and having only an aunt as his family back home. He was majoring in biophysics with a low-level job at the renowned scientific lab, Oscorp.
He did happen to leave out the part where he happened to be New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, but you didn't need to know that.
In return, you told him about yourself and what you were hoping to do with your studies after finishing university. “I mean, I’m not sure if I’ll ever do something as impressive as you with your research, but as long as I make some kind of difference in the world, right?” You spoke wearily, yawning as you rubbed your eyes.
“Are you kidding me? You’re gonna change the world with a mind like yours and how hard you work.” He smiled boyishly. Had you been less sleepy, you might’ve seen the slight pink in his cheeks from where he sat. “It’s getting pretty late, you need sleep. I can walk you to your dorm–” He rambled before you cut him off.
“It’s not late. We’ve only been talking for like ten minutes.” You scoffed and checked the time.
1:13AM
“Oh shit, no, no, no! I didn’t even get to do what I came here for!” You groaned, pulling at your hair. “You distracted me, Peter!” Although you tried blaming him you couldn’t fight the smile from spreading on your face.
A door opened from afar causing both of you to turn towards the sound. “That must be my roommate. M’sorry I distracted you.” Peter’s growing smirk contradicted his words. “Let me make it up to you.” He stood to open the door for you as you trudged past him.
“And just how are you going to do that?” Truthfully, you were only walking so slow to keep the conversation going for as long as you could. You’d definitely regret staying up so late especially because you have an early class the next morning, but something about Peter kept you pulled in.
“We can study together in the library tomorrow. I’ll even get us some ice cream afterward. You know, as an apology.” You stopped in front of your door and laughed. “Okay, Peter but I’m serious this time. I need to study.” You eyed him, but to Peter he only found it funny due to your height difference. You weren't intimidating to him at all.
Mostly because you weren't actively trying to kill him like most of the people he encounters during this time of night, but that's besides the point.
“Hey, I’m serious too! You’re not the only one with work to do.” He rolled his eyes. You exchanged numbers with him, bidding him goodnight and going into your dorm. 
You weren’t one for most college boys, especially because most of them held an arrogant attitude to themselves, but Peter felt different. He seemed genuine and you couldn’t help but look forward to "studying" with him.
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a/n: may or may not do a part 2 for this, depends on how much motivation i have
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iridescentparkers · 6 months 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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