#tasm!peter parker imangines

[headkiss]

hi hi!! in this fic you talked ab how peters girlfriend took pics of him and flustered him, could i request something where peter takes pictures of them instead and flusters them? if you do write this could you make it gender neutral? it’s completely okay if you can’t 🙏🏽

(feel free to ignore this i don’t mind i love everything you write)

hi thank u so much for ur request!!! | 0.7k of fluff, gn!reader

Peter has a drawer full of polaroid pictures.

You’re the one who gave him the camera. Your first christmas together, a wrapped box handed over with a shy smile, a tackling hug from Peter once it had been opened. He hasn’t stopped using it since.

Now, his drawer is almost exclusively filled with pictures of you. Years worth of memories and moments frozen in a frame. You sitting by the boxes on the floor after moving into your apartment, your head tilted up towards the sky when it snowed.

He carries the thing everywhere, slung over his neck or in his beat-up backpack. All the pictures of you, and you’re still not used to having a camera pointed towards you.

Tonight’s a takeout kind of night, both you and Peter too lazy to cook. It’s sweatpants that are too long rolled at the ankles, a baggy t-shirt with a hole in the neckline.

He ordered your favorite without asking, you’d simply overheard him on the phone with the restaurant and smiled because he knows you that well.

“I’ll be right back,” he’d said to you before he left to go pick up the food, a kiss stamped to your cheek.

It’s not even fifteen minutes later when he comes back through the door, the rustle of the takeout bag in his hand, the jingle of his keys being set down on the counter. You stand from the couch and meet him in the kitchen.

He’s standing by the island, taking out the boxes filled with your dinner from the bag. You come to stand beside him, nearly hip to hip.

You eat that way, too, sideways glances during bites, giggles hidden behind hands. It’s the kind of easy, simple, domestic thing you’ve come to love so much. The comfort that you could only ever feel with Peter. With the boy you love.

Peter catches you looking at him, your eyes all fond and sweet, and his heart swells in his chest. For a long time, he thought he was difficult to love, someone nobody would want, and then you came along and you look at him this way and he feels much differently.

“Don’t move.” Peter drops his fork and all but runs into your bedroom. He comes back with the polaroid camera in hand.

“Peter,” you groan. “Another one?”

“Just one, I promise.” He stands by the island again, hip leaning against the counter. “Please?”

You’ll never be used to the attention he gives you, to the idea that you’re worthy of being the subject of his pictures. As much as it embarrasses you, you can’t say no. Not when he says ‘please’ the way he does. Lip jutted in a pout, brown eyes sweet on yours.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Peter’s smile is instant, eyes crinkling in the corners. He leans in and pecks the tip of your nose, “thank you, honey.”

Your nose crinkles at his affection, and before you can really prepare yourself, the click of the camera sounds.

“I wasn’t even ready!”

“That’s kinda the point,” he says. “You already looked perfect, ‘kay?”

You hide your face in your hands, flustered as always when he takes a picture of you. It’s not even the picture itself, really, it’s the words that come with it, the compliments that he spits out like they’re facts.

You’ll never understand how this boy could feel the way he does about you, but he feels it and you don’t ever want to let that go.

The picture prints from the camera, and you can hear Peter start to shake it in the air to develop it quicker. After a couple of seconds, he sets both the picture and the camera down, freeing his hands to grab yours and pull them away from your face.

“Stop hiding,” he weaves his fingers between yours now that your hands are down, swinging them lightly between your bodies. “You’re pretty. Thank you for letting me capture that.”

“Give me my hands back, I need to hide again.”

“No!” Peter shakes his head, his smile soft and easy as ever. The private smile that he saves for you. “You’re not getting ‘em back.”

And, even flustered, you suppose having your hands in Peter’s forever wouldn’t be so bad.

[headkiss]

hey can i pls request peter with a gf who’s scared of spiders??

hiii this idea is so cute i hope u like it (sorry it’s a shorter one!!) | 0.4k of fluff and a spider !

“Peter!” You all but shriek from the bathroom.

Being who he is, the hairs on his arms and that back of his neck raise, his senses dig deeper to find any sort of danger. He doesn’t feel anything. He runs to you all the same.

“Bug? What’s wrong?”

“There’s a spider on the wall,” you point, wrapped in your towel post-shower, which is enough to distract him for a moment.

“Just a spider?” He tries not to smile or laugh. He has to cover his mouth with his hand.

It’s ironic, you being so afraid of spiders and dating Spider-Man himself. What a trip. As much as he teases you for it, he can’t deny feeling proud of himself every time he takes a spider out of the apartment in a glass with a spare bit of paper held over the opening. He’s just happy to help you.

“It’s not ‘just’ a spider, Peter. It’s a huge one.”

You can't even bring yourself to look away from it. Like as soon as you look away, it’ll pounce on you.

“Okay. It’s fine, I’ll get it out.”

He rushes to grab his usual supplies, and walks over to the wall where the spider sits slowly, trying not to startle it. You hold your towel to yourself tightly, wince at the sight of the creature bugging you.

“It’s looking at me,” you say.

“‘Cause you’re pretty.”

“Peter.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m getting it.”

He places the cup over it carefully, and you let out a small squeal when it moves around inside.

The first time Peter had to save you from a spider, he was prepared to smush it with the nearest object he could find. He only didn’t because you’d stopped him saying, ‘don’t kill it! It’s your relative!’

He couldn’t hold in the laugh at that, though you genuinely sounded concerned. He just thinks you’re the cutest ever.

Now, he slides the paper beneath the cup, a technique he’s had to master especially while living with you, and begins to carry the spider away to the widow of your fire escape. As soon as it’s outside, he shuts the window and turns to look at you, still in your towel, shuffling on your feet and shivering just a bit.

��All done, bug,” he says, walking over to you and rubbing his hands up and down your upper arms for warmth. “How about you get dressed and we can watch a movie?”

You lean your head against his chest just for a moment, careful not to get his shirt wet with your hair, “thanks, Peter. Best boyfriend and spider remover ever.”

“Can I have an award for that?”

[headkiss]

valentine's request! what about Peter buying you flowers and chocolates but it's your first time ever that someone has done it for you?

love your work!!

peter my love <3 tysm for requesting!!! | 0.6k of fluff and bf peter

You’ve never really been a fan of Valentine’s Day. The colors used to hurt your eyes, the smell of flowers annoyingly overwhelming.

It’s sort of hard to enjoy the holiday when you never have someone to celebrate with, when you have to watch all of the happy couples and try to hide how badly you want that.

This year, it’s a bit better. This year, you have Peter.

You’re not expecting him to do anything, but simply having his company is more than enough for you. To know that you can actually think of somebody on the day full of hearts and pink and red.

You’re not expecting him to do anything but he does, because he’s the sweetest boy in the whole world (in your opinion) and he treats you better than you ever thought you could be treated.

He shows up at your door on February 14th with a bouquet of flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. It’s cliché, but he makes it special with his lopsided, shy grin and blushing cheeks.

“Will you be my valentine?” He asks you as soon as you open the door.

You smile wide and spring forward into his arms, your flowers squished carelessly between your bodies, your arms tight around his neck.

“You’re crushing your flowers, baby.”

You pull away and push your hair from your face, “sorry. Thank you, they’re really pretty.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“Will you be my valentine?” He asks again.

“I thought my hug would’ve given away my answer. ‘Course I will.”

He cheers a cute little ‘yay!’

You’re convinced that Peter’s the only boy who’s ever liked you. Like, genuinely, romantically like you. Your first kiss was during a game of truth or dare, after all.

He’s the only boy who tells you you’re pretty even when you know you don’t look that great, who kisses you so softly you can feel his emotions in it. He’s certainly the only boy—only person, really—who’s ever bought you flowers.

When you reach for the flowers he pulls them back, “what are you doing?”

“I was just gonna put them in a vase…?”

“I didn’t get you flowers to make you do the work. Let me.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

Peter can’t believe it. He doesn’t know how any boy could see you and not want to buy you flowers or chocolates or kiss you or fall in love with you. Though, he can’t deny that he’s happy to be the first to get to do these things.

“You eat the chocolates,” he hands you the box, “I’ll do the flowers. Okay?”

That doesn’t sound like a hard deal at all. You head into your kitchen, sitting at one of your stools by the small island. Peter follows, shutting your door behind him and grabbing one of your vases from a high cupboard.

You’ve never even had a use for any of those vases until now.

You sit at your counter, opening the box of chocolates and eating a couple as Peter moves around your kitchen. You watch his hands when he cuts the stems of the flowers, his arms when he lifts the water-filled vase from the sink, his smile when he puts the flowers in the vase and slides them onto the center of the island where you sit.

Peter moves to stand behind you, his chest pressed to your back, his chin perched on your shoulder.

“They’re perfect,” you say, because they are. Even a bit squished from your hug, they’re perfect.

“Mm. Happy Valentine’s.”

Peter pecks your cheek and steals one of the chocolates from the box he gave you. You decide that Valentine’s might be your new favorite holiday.

[headkiss]

headcanons for peter’s girlfriend being a photographer like him? her asking if she can take peter’s portrait frequently and him getting flustered <3 :,)

hiii i wrote this as a blurb rather than headcanons i hope that’s okay! ty for the request <3 | 0.6k words and a whole bunch of fluff

Peter’s sitting near the window sketching something you can’t see. His head bent in a way sure to leave a soreness in his neck, his lips pouted in focus.

The TV plays in front of you, but you don’t pay it any attention. Not when Peter looks so pretty.

You turn on the couch to face him, side pressed against the back, knees pulled up so you can rest your chin on them. He can feel your eyes on him, you know he can because he can feel everything. He looks up from his sketchbook and his eyes find yours.

“What?” He asks, flustered from your obvious attention.

“Nothing,” you shake your head.

I just love you, you think. I just love you and you’re the prettiest boy in the whole world. His hair flops over his forehead, messier than usual since neither of you had bothered to get ready. He’s still in his pajama pants from last night, you’re still in your sleep shirt and softest pair of his boxers.

He huffs a laugh and looks back at his drawing. He knows whatever you’re thinking, it’ll probably make him want to kiss you. Then, he’ll never finish his sketch.

He’s trying his best not to, but Peter rushes the finishing touches of his drawing just a bit. It’s hard to focus when he can practically feel your love for him seeping from you.

When he moves to stand, you stop him.

“No, wait!”

There’s a sunbeam hitting his bare chest perfectly through the window. Sunshine on sunshine.

You spring up from your seat, probably telling him to ‘wait’ about ten times as you rush to grab your camera from his bedroom. Peter listens. You do this often, take pictures of him.

He can’t be annoyed with you (ever) about this, because he does it, too. There’s a drawer in his bedside table filled with pictures you’ve taken of each other.

You come back into the living room, sliding on the hardwood floors with your socks. Your camera clutched in your hands, the expression you always give him when you want to capture him on your face.

“Baby,” he all but whines.

“Just one, promise,” he gives you a deadpan stare. “Okay, maybe five.”

“You know I can’t say no to you. This is taking advantage.”

“Peter, please? I’ll do your laundry.”

“You already do my laundry, even when I tell you not to.”

“A menace. Can you just pretend to be drawing again?”

He does, letting his sketchbook fall open to the page he’d been on beforehand. He fixes up some of the details he’d overlooked in his haste to finish and sit with you instead.

“So pretty,” you murmur, quiet enough he wouldn’t have heard it if his senses weren’t always so heightened.

He hopes the camera doesn’t catch how fiercely he blushes.

He humors you for about two minutes before he can’t stand the amount of little compliments you give him. Before he can’t stand not being able to grab your face and kiss you.

Peter shuts his book again, crawling over to where you kneel on the floor. He gets so close you’re forced to lean back, letting yourself be laid down slowly on the cool floors.

“Peter. I wasn’t done.”

“Mm. Sorry, baby, I just really wanted to kiss you.”

“Oh, okay. I can accept that, I guess.”

“‘I guess.’ You’re a meanie.”

He’s smiling when he says it, nudging his nose against yours and gently taking your camera from your hands and placing it aside.

“You gonna kiss me anyway?”

Rather than answer you, he pushes his lips against yours, sweet and slow. The kind of kiss only a lazy Sunday can bring.

[headkiss]

Hii hope you're having a nice day! can I request Peter Parker in a sun and moon dynamic with reader?? (reader being the moon ofc) reader kinda have Wednesday Addams vibes or something like that KSBSKSN💕💕

hiii idk if i did this well </3 but hopefully you like it!! tysm for requesting | 0.6k fluff and wednesday addams (ish)!reader

Peter has learned how to read you.

Much has changed from your first meeting. Then, he’d thought you disliked him, found him annoying. Now, he knows that you simply carry yourself that way, and that you don’t mean anything by it.

He’s learned that a tiny lift of the corners of your mouth translates to a beaming smile, that squeezing his hand gently three times means ’I love you,’ that when you blink a lot you’re getting emotional.

He feels proud to know these things about you. Like he’s learned the best language there is.

It’s true, he’s found out, opposites really do attract. To you, Peter’s the sun, the only constant bright thing that doesn’t hurt your eyes, that you’re happy to have around.

You aren’t the most affectionate person, and Peter is so enough for the both of you, but you sometimes feel like you should be showing him more appreciation somehow. Even if it feels unnatural. For him, you’d like to try.

It’s why you bring him flowers.

It’s a quick knock on the door, the kind Peter knows is you, and he rushes to get it. He’s beaming when he opens it, your black clothes and signature boots, the small glint in your eyes he likes to believe is just for him.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” He says.

“I’m-”

“Not that I don’t want to see you,” he cuts you off. “I do, it’s just a surprise.”

“That’s the point, Peter.”

“Okay. Hi, then,” he rocks on his feet, like he can’t stay still.

“These are for you,” you bring your hands out from behind your back, the bouquet held out to him.

“Really?”

“Who else would they be for?” You deadpan.

He takes them from you, smells them to hide the smile that spreads over his face.

Flowers might not seem like such a big deal to most, but coming from you, it’s the best thing Peter’s ever received. He knows you, he knows that this is out of your comfort zone and his heart bursts at the thought of you going out of your way for him. For him, of all people.

“I should be the one getting you flowers,” he jokes.

“Boys aren’t the only ones who can give flowers,” you say. Matter-of-fact.

“I know that. I just mean you didn’t have to do this for me.”

“I wanted to show you I appreciate you.”

“Well, thank you. I appreciate you back.”

He invites you inside, and you follow him to the kitchen where he puts the flowers in a vase, carefully like they’re going to break. Like that’s the last thing he wants.

Peter’s all happy smiles and bouncing around the room while you’re a linger in the corner type person. There’s a balance there that’s too perfect, one more drop of something would tilt the scale, but that never happens.

“Do you wanna stay and watch a movie?” He asks, sliding the vase to the middle of the counter now that he’s done.

“Depends what you choose.”

“How about you choose? Anything, even the scary stuff you like so much.”

“But you don’t like the scary stuff.”

“If you let me hold your hand, I think I can make it through.”

Peter really doesn’t care what movie you choose, because his eyes will probably be on you the whole time anyway. Besides, if he can have his hand in yours for the duration of it, he’s won either way.

“I suppose I could do that,” you say.

Peter doesn’t miss the smallest twitch of your mouth. A smile.

[headkiss]

I’d love a Peter Parker x reader story where she’s (or they!) are plus sized and it’s all well and good but she’s not used to a partner being able to throw her around, manhandle her, etc… and every time Peter moves her so casually like she weighs nothing to him she gets all flustered and she squeaks and Peter picks up on it and does it more and more and just thoroughly enjoys flustering his plush princess

hiiii i hope u like it!!!! sorry it’s a shorter one </3

No matter how long you’ve been together, or how many times you’re reminded of it, Peter's strength never fails to surprise you.

Maybe it’s because it juxtaposes how he acts around you most of the time. The cuddles and hugs whenever he can get them, kisses placed on your head whenever he passes by, the sticky sweet compliments he gives. He’s a lover, that’s for sure.

He’s also Spider-man, a literal superhero. Of course he’s strong, you’ve just never been with someone who’s able to pick you up with so much ease.

Whether it’s him pulling you closer in bed so that you’re half flopped over him, giving you piggy back rides when you’re drunk and stumbly, or tossing you around in bed, his way of doing it so casually always has you flustered.

Of course, he notices. He notices everything about you. The way you poke your tongue out when you’re focused, or the way you scratch at the skin around your fingernails when you’re nervous.

He loves that he’s able to have you all shy and warm just by picking you up. You react the same way each time: a small squeal of surprise, your arms gripping in him tight like he’ll drop you, and then a smile you try and hide overtaking your features.

And so, like the teasing menace he is, he picks you up more often just to have you react like that.

He’d asked you to dance with him like the romantic that he is, the morning light sleeping through windows as your lighting and the sounds of your coffee maker as the soundtrack.

Relationships like yours seemed like a myth, something purely fictional, until you met Peter. You grin as he sways you around the kitchen, bare feet against the cool tile. He spins you out, and back in, soaking up the giggle that leaves your mouth. Then, he dips you low.

It has that classic squeak leaving your mouth, your arms tightening around his neck. He pecks you, once, twice, and lifts you back up to stand.

“Where’d you learn to dance like this, Parker?”

“May taught me when I was younger. It’s paying off, huh?”

“Remind me to thank her later.”

He smiles wide, a glint of mischief in his eyes before he picks you up, his arms around your waist, and spins you around.

“Peter!”

He can’t hold in his laugh, far too happy to be able to pick you up, hopefully for the rest of his life.

[headkiss]

Happy Holiday season!!! Here's the prompt :

“Did you break into my house?”

“You refused to put up any Christmas decorations! What choice did I have?”

Happy writing!

hiii u didn’t specify a character so i went with my beloved peter parker, hope that’s okay!!! | 0.6k, christmas fluff

Peter loves Christmas. The lights, the trees, the stockings, everything. You, on the other hand, are more of a Grinch about the whole thing.

Every year of your friendship, without fail, Peter would be the one to make your heart grow a couple sizes. He’d be cheerful enough for the both of you, gifting you a thoughtful present, and moving on.

Apart from the scented candles and your fairy lights that stay up all year round, you never decorate, either. And so, like the sweet, holiday loving boy he is, Peter decided to sneak into your apartment and decorate for you.

Nothing major. Some lights on your fire escape and a tiny fake tree would do, he thinks. Because even if you act like you dislike the holiday completely, he knows it’s only because you aren’t used to having someone to celebrate with.

You have him now, and he wants to change your mind. He wants to be the good memories for you, enough so that the bad doesn’t stick out so much.

So, late at night, when he thinks you’ll stay asleep, he swings up to your fire escape and gets to work. The cold December air bites at his skin, leaving his cheeks rosy.

It’s not until he’s in your living room, knocking something over that you wake up with a jolt.

You hear another noise, and your heart’s racing. There’s someone inside, you think, and that’s scary. You reach for your phone and turn on the flashlight, then grab the heaviest book from your shelf as your weapon. It’s not great, but it’s the best your sleep-clouded mind can come up with.

His head snaps up when he sees your flashlight, and you’re about to throw the book at him when you realize it’s Peter.

“What the hell?” You ask, looking at the way he’s crouched next to a tiny christmas tree.

He plugs it in and smiles at you. That smile you love so much; it’s hard to move past it. “Hey, honey.”

“Peter? Did you break in?”

He stands up, shrugs shyly at you, “well, you wouldn’t put up your own decorations. What choice did I have?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe not scaring me half to death? I thought you were a murderer!”

“Right, and you chose a book to defend yourself?”

“Shut up,” you toss it on the couch.

You’re trying really hard to stay annoyed with him, but that proves to be difficult when you’re sort of in love with him, too. Not to mention the fact that you know his intentions are good. They’re never not good when it comes to Peter.

“How about a ‘thank you, Peter, for bringing in the Christmas spirit.’” You give him a deadpan look. “Yeah, okay, maybe not.”

Maybe Peter should have just asked you to decorate with him, but he wanted to do something for you. You’re his best friend and he loves you and it matters to him that you aren’t lonely during the holidays. Or ever.

It’s why he invites you to May’s for dinner, and why he shows up unannounced so often.

You trail your hand down his arm, give his hand a squeeze and hold it loosely. “This was really sweet, Peter, I just wish I didn’t almost have a heart attack in the process.”

He squeezes your hand back, “I just wanted to make Christmas special for you, ‘cause I know you don’t really like it.”

“Well, Christmas with you is a whole lot better than Christmas without you, if that helps.”

It does, he thinks. It helps a lot.

[headkiss]

peter blurbs

peter coming home and carrying you to bed

peter loves picking you up

peter helps get you into the christmas spirit

you’re scared of spiders and peter’s always there to help

wednesday!reader bringing peter flowers

peter’s very pretty and you like to take pictures of him

peter buys you flowers and chocolate for valentine’s

peter helps you with a migraine

peter’s a groomsman and you cry at weddings

peter likes to take pictures of you even though you’re shy

going for a walk in the fall with your best friend peter

peter buys you a surprise gift during the holidays

peter stays up with you when you can’t sleep

[sincericida]

I just wanted a Peter in my life…

valentine's request! what about Peter buying you flowers and chocolates but it's your first time ever that someone has done it for you?

love your work!!

peter my love <3 tysm for requesting!!! | 0.6k of fluff and bf peter

You’ve never really been a fan of Valentine’s Day. The colors used to hurt your eyes, the smell of flowers annoyingly overwhelming.

It’s sort of hard to enjoy the holiday when you never have someone to celebrate with, when you have to watch all of the happy couples and try to hide how badly you want that.

This year, it’s a bit better. This year, you have Peter.

You’re not expecting him to do anything, but simply having his company is more than enough for you. To know that you can actually think of somebody on the day full of hearts and pink and red.

You’re not expecting him to do anything but he does, because he’s the sweetest boy in the whole world (in your opinion) and he treats you better than you ever thought you could be treated.

He shows up at your door on February 14th with a bouquet of flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. It’s cliché, but he makes it special with his lopsided, shy grin and blushing cheeks.

“Will you be my valentine?” He asks you as soon as you open the door.

You smile wide and spring forward into his arms, your flowers squished carelessly between your bodies, your arms tight around his neck.

“You’re crushing your flowers, baby.”

You pull away and push your hair from your face, “sorry. Thank you, they’re really pretty.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“Will you be my valentine?” He asks again.

“I thought my hug would’ve given away my answer. ‘Course I will.”

He cheers a cute little ‘yay!’

You’re convinced that Peter’s the only boy who’s ever liked you. Like, genuinely, romantically like you. Your first kiss was during a game of truth or dare, after all.

He’s the only boy who tells you you’re pretty even when you know you don’t look that great, who kisses you so softly you can feel his emotions in it. He’s certainly the only boy—only person, really—who’s ever bought you flowers.

When you reach for the flowers he pulls them back, “what are you doing?”

“I was just gonna put them in a vase…?”

“I didn’t get you flowers to make you do the work. Let me.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

Peter can’t believe it. He doesn’t know how any boy could see you and not want to buy you flowers or chocolates or kiss you or fall in love with you. Though, he can’t deny that he’s happy to be the first to get to do these things.

“You eat the chocolates,” he hands you the box, “I’ll do the flowers. Okay?”

That doesn’t sound like a hard deal at all. You head into your kitchen, sitting at one of your stools by the small island. Peter follows, shutting your door behind him and grabbing one of your vases from a high cupboard.

You’ve never even had a use for any of those vases until now.

You sit at your counter, opening the box of chocolates and eating a couple as Peter moves around your kitchen. You watch his hands when he cuts the stems of the flowers, his arms when he lifts the water-filled vase from the sink, his smile when he puts the flowers in the vase and slides them onto the center of the island where you sit.

Peter moves to stand behind you, his chest pressed to your back, his chin perched on your shoulder.

“They’re perfect,” you say, because they are. Even a bit squished from your hug, they’re perfect.

“Mm. Happy Valentine’s.”

Peter pecks your cheek and steals one of the chocolates from the box he gave you. You decide that Valentine’s might be your new favorite holiday.