#tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

[moonstruckme]

Mae, you are the loveliest human and I am so happy for you! Congratulations on 8k, that’s incredible! For your holiday party, I was thinking hot cocoa + tasm!Peter + fuzzy socks from the first prompt list. I’m ready for everything cosy!

Thank you my lovely!!

cw: Peter is a tad insufferable (but it's okay he's cute and he loves us)

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 590 words

There’s a schwick, and your twirling is interrupted. Peter pulls you to him by the side of your hip. 

“Hey,” you laugh, admittedly far from unhappy to be caged in his arms. 

Peter draws a hand up your back to cup your face. His fingers smell like the basil and garlic he’s been chopping. “You are going,” he says, slow and enunciated, “to break your butt.” 

You laugh again, setting your hands on his chest with no intention of pushing him away. “I am not.” 

“You’ve fallen no less than seven times since you put those things on.” 

“That is so not true!” you protest, dodging when he tries to shut you up by kissing you. “You can’t just throw random numbers out there and expect me to agree.” 

“Fine,” Peter capitulates. “But it’s definitely been at least three.” 

“There’s a big difference between three and seven, Parker.” 

“It’s not gonna feel so big when you fall and break your butt.” 

“So let me get this straight,” you say. It’s a battle to stay focussed with Peter’s palm rubbing a slow back-and-forth across the exposed slice of skin between your t-shirt and your pajama shorts, but the knowledge that he’s almost definitely doing it on purpose makes you competitive. “You can dangle off the sides of buildings and get shot at by criminals, but I can’t slide around my own home?” 

“Yup, exactly.” Peter pecks you on the lips. “I knew you’d get it, baby. You’re so smart.” 

You back up when he tries for another. “Doesn’t seem fair.” 

“Well, you know what they say about life…” 

“Dick,” you laugh, pushing off of his chest and going back to the dishrack you were unloading. “I’m just trying to enjoy the new socks my boyfriend got me. You might remember him, he’s the cool, chill one.” 

“Yeah, I hate that guy.” Peter watches as you spin a stack of plates towards the cupboard just to irk him, but he doesn’t stop you. There appears to be a tug on the corners of his mouth. “He knew he should have gotten you the ones with the grippy bottoms.” 

“Maybe if he were less cool and chill,” you allow, grabbing a few mugs out of the dishrack, “but I like the ones he got me. They’re soft, and cozy, and perfect for—” 

You overshoot the cupboard you were aiming for, throwing yourself off balance in your attempt to stop. Your socks slip on the smooth floor, but Peter’s there just as quickly, one arm banded around your waist and the other hand catching the two mugs you’ve dropped. 

“Huh,” he says, musing. “That could have been bad, right? I knew you were gonna break something of yours, but I didn’t really think you’d be taking the dishes with you.” 

You try to stand, but you’re too low to the floor, your socks only sliding underneath you. Your face feels warm, not so much from defeat as from Peter’s proximity, the smug gleam in his eyes. 

“What do you say?” he asks. 

“Thank you.” 

His smile blooms. “You’re welcome. And?” 

You look away from his face, huffing. “Sorry.” 

“Ooh, very nice, but not quite what we were looking for. Wanna try again?” 

You glare up at him. “Really?” 

Peter’s eyes crinkle, affection mingling with his amusement. “Really, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes. “You were right.” 

“Attagirl.” Peter pulls you upright, and his mouth finds yours with laughter already in it, kissing you sweetly despite his teasing. “My smart girl, I knew you’d get it.”

[weird-is-life]

Rockstar!tasm! Peter meeting Shy!reader on one of his shows? Invites her backstage to meet the band and he's just real flirty w her? Please

Hii, lovely!🫶 thank u so much for this request. This was fun to write. If you have anymore rockstar!Peter requests send them my way!!!! Hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of alcohol, concert, flirting, mentions of big crowd, (2k)

Your best friends drag you to a concert of some upcoming band they love. Honestly, you don't know a thing about them only that they are allegedly pretty good, and that your friends are paying for your drinks tonight.

The whole place is packed with people, because it's not just one band playing, there are multiple bands playing throughout the whole night. The pretty big venue, but it still does nothing to make it more spacey. There's barely any place to move.

You thought you didn't mind so many people at one place, but as you try to get to the bar through the sea of sweaty bodies, you don't feel very happy that you're there.

You've lost your friends on the way to the bar as well, so you're on your own to get through the crowd. You hope that you'll meet your friends there.

You're almost at the bar when suddenly there's something cold and very very wet going down the front of your t-shirt. And by the smell of it, you can tell it's alcohol.

"Shit. I'm so sorry," the person panics in front of you," I didn't see you, like at all."

You slowly look up from your cold, wet t-shirt to the person speaking. It's a extremely handsome guy. Like 'your breath gets knocked out' handsome type. And no, you aren't even being dramatic.

He's dressed in all black, sleeveless t-shirt, black baggy jeans and black eyeliner. You don't think you've ever seen such abpretty and cute guy. He seems a bit familiar too, but you can't pinpoint where you've seen him before.

But you're t-shirt is still very much wet as you respond," it's-it's okay. There's just too many people, i know you didn't mean to."

You don't know what to do next. You don't have anything else to wear but this t-shirt. And your friends are still nowhere to be seen.

"Still, I'm very sorry," he apologetically looks at you, soft smile on his face. "Do you have anything else to wear?"

"I don't," you reply with a sigh.

"Shit," he curses looking around frantically. He looks like he has places to be, so you honestly don't want to keep him more than you've already had.

"It's whatever, I'll survive the few more hours, I guess. I'm sorry about your drinks tho," you give him a small, sheepish smile, and start going towards the bar again to find your friends.

You don't get far because he gently catches your hand, "as much as I think some guys would enjoy the wet t-shirt contest look, I would be an asshole to let you stay like this. Please let me get you a new t-shirt?"

Your cheeks go red at his words.

"It's really not that big deal-" you start.

"It is to me." He tells you. "Please, let me get you a t-shirt that doesn't reek of beer and vodka," he offers again with a chuckle.

You think it over for a few seconds as he looks hopefully at you, there's something else in the way he looks at you, but you can't quite name what it is.

"Okay, yeah," you say, and he smiles big at you," but where can you find a shirt here. There's nothing here."

He gives you the cheekiest smirk as he says, " don't worry about that. I'll get one for you. Just come with me."

He points to the doors you know lead to the backstage. You shake your head in disagreement, "we can't go there."

"We can, I know the people, so let's go," he starts to head thar way, but you don't budge. Overthinking it too much.

"Am I getting kidnapped?" you worry lightly. Even if you have a strong feeling, that you can trust this guy,

He laughs at your question,"no, definitely not. But if you want to wait here, it's okay, too. I'll bring it to you."

You think it over, and decide that you'd rather not stay in the middle of this pit of sweaty people. And also because you've never been backstage before, so you're curious.

"No, no, it's alright. I'll come with you."

He nods happily, "great. I'm Peter by the way."

"I'm y/n."

He starts to walk again, and this time you follow him. You have a hard time keeping up with him. With his long legs it's not easy to get through the crowd as he does.

Peter notices it, he stops, and suddenly there's his big, warm hand around yours.

Calloused fingers like guitarist's holding onto yours tightly, so he doesn't loose you. It makes the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

He tugs you after him with an ease, and in no time you're in the backstage area.

Peter doesn't drop your hand, though, and he leads you even farther to some dressing room. He walks inside it so casually, and to your horror he pulls you inside with him.

There are 3 more guys in that room, all of them similarly dressed to Peter, looking very much like some rockstars. Peter finally drops your head, "give me a second, I'll find some clean t-shirt in my bag for you."

He leaves you standing in the middle of the room with your cheeks very rosy at the attention of the three other boys.

"I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I'll...I'll go wait outside," you point at the door.

"You're not intruding," Peter says softly, " these are my boys..." he names all of them, and each of them gives you a warm smile and a nod.

Fuck. You suddenly realise. They must be some kind of band playing tonight.

"It's nice to meet you. Do...Are you playing on the stage tonight?" You question curiously.

"Yeah," Peter finally finds you a t-shirt, and walks back towards you. "We are the last band playing tonight," Peter hands you the clothing, and you thank him. Still very shy at the thought that you are currently standing in the middle of some band's dressing room.

"There's a bathroom right here, you can go change, yeah?" Peter suggests carefully, he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything.

He thinks you are really, really pretty, and that it must be fate that you bumped into each other tonight. Peter only knows your name, and he knows he's fucked already. Like full on crush.

You only take a few seconds to clean yourself up, and change into Peter's t-shirt. When you come out of the bathroom, the guys are all standing, readying for the stage already.

"Hey, look at you, my t-shirt looks great on you, even if it's a little big," he compliments you with an easy smile, and you, once again, blush at his flirty tone.

"Thank you," you tell him," and thank you for the t-shirt, I really appreciate. I'm gonna go now though, i don't want to bother you anymore. I'll see you around. And thanks again."

You give him a wave with the intend to dissappear quickly out of there. Your friends are definitely wondering where you are by now. And also because your legs would probably give out if you had to endure one more flirty smile from Peter.

"Hey, hey, hey, wait up," Peter runs after you," I-I was wondering, if you would want to come listen from the side of the stage?

He looks unsurely at you. He has some kind of paper in his fidgeting hands.

"I can't, I'm sorry. I'm here with two of my best friends, so I can't even if I'd love to." You look regretfully at him.

"Then they should come, too! Please, it's the least I can do for spilling my drinks all over you." Peter blurts it all out way too quickly then he means to. Not keeping his cool composure near you like at all.

"Are you sure? We wouldn't want to bother," you ask quietly. Even if you'd really, really love seeing the band from the backstage. Because you don't want to go back into the messy crowd of people.

"You definitely won't bother anybody. It would be my pleasure actually to have you there. I can at least have some pretty girl like you there to dedicate our songs to," he winks at you. Flirting without much thought about it with you.

You can't say you don't like it. You do. Way too much than you probably should. So you say, "okay, yes. I'll text them right now."

"Great," he says with a big beam," and here, take this before I leave. Dave will escort you to the side of the stage." Peter pushes the paper from his hands to yours, and points at the bodyguard.

"Wait, Peter, what's this?"

"It's an address. If you could mail me the t-shirt back, it's my favourite," Peter tells you carefully, not wanting to sound like a dick.

"Oh, of course. That won't be any problem," you immediately assure him.

He nods at you, and leans in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. Don't worry, he gives you the time to push him away, but you don't. You would never. He just couldn't say goodbye to you without ever kissing your pink cheek in his lifetime.

"I'm so glad i bumped into you," he tells you breathlessly, "I'll see you on the stage," and with that he's off. Leaving you a blushing mess as you scramble to text your friends to come to the backstage.

When they finally arrive, you follow Dave to the side of the stage as your friends stare around them in huge awe.

It's even worse when you finally get to the stage. "How the fuck did you manage to get us in here?" Your friends question.

"It's a long story, I'll tell it to you later." They just shake their heads at you, not able to believe where they are.

They eyes, and yours, go impossibly wider once the band shows up, and they start playing.

Peter immediately looks your way, grins at you and sends you a wink. You just smile bashfully at him.

Your friends eyes are instantly on you, "um excuse me, why is Peter Parker unabashedly flirting across the stage with you?" They squeal as they ask that.

Your face goes white. You didn't realise that Peter was Peter freaking Parker. Lead singer of that upcoming band your friends dragged you here to see. You almost pass out at the realisation.

You can't believe that the future rockstar is openly flirting with you across the stage, and your friends can't either.

Your friends demand to know what exactly happened, so you tell them. They go even more crazy after that.

When the concert is eventually over, you and your friends get escorted away from there by Dave, so you don't even get the chance to say goodbye to Peter or even be bold enough to ask for his number.

It's later after you spend a few days moping about your wasted chance with Peter that you finally get the strength to send him his t-shirt back.

You find the crumpled paper that Peter gave you, and only then you realise what's really written on it. Your mouth goes wide open.

Dear y/n,

I lied it's not my favourite t-shirt. You can keep it. I wanted to ask for your number, but I didn't want to pressure you into thinking that you had to give it to me just because I got you backstage (or just because I'm a handsome rockstar). So here's my number +xxxx xxx xxx, I liked you, like a lot, so please feel free to text me or you can ignore me, both is totally fine. Even if I may end up heartbroken, and write sad songs about you if you do decide to ignore me. Just kidding......maybe

With love,

Peter P.

You squeal so loudly that probably the whole neighbourhood hears you. You make a few laps around your apartment as you try to calm yourself down. You can't really believe it. You even read it a few more times just to make it real.

Once you do calm your racing heart, you call your best friends over to help you figure out what to text Peter. They very gladly agree to come.

And let's just say Peter is just as enthusiasticly waiting for the text from you as you are to write it to him.

[bruisedboys]

hii!!

congrats on 6k pretty sure i binged ur entire blog like yesterday

id like tasm!peterparker and candycane 35 (from the second list)

thank you!

join the celebration!

prompt: sender  curls  up  against  receiver  in  their  sleep

tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

Peter’s very lucky you’re not awake when he gets home, because he’d definitely be scolded (lovingly, of course, but scolded all the same) for being back so late. He can imagine the pinch between your eyebrows, the downturn of your mouth, how you’d frown at him and say, baby, you need to stop staying out so late. I get so worried. But then you’d kiss him and help him clean up like he deserves it.

You don’t do any of those things. Rather, you’re fast asleep in his bed, achingly peaceful in your slumber. Peter’s heart does something funny when he climbs in through the window and finds you knocked out cold in his clothes, a big t-shirt with a Star Wars graphic plastered over the front, and a pair of his checkered boxers. Your face is smushed adorably into his pillow.

Peter bites his glove off and tosses it to the side to stroke your warm cheek with the back of his hand, fingers gentle where they brush hair from your sleeping face. You preen at his touch, leaning up into his hand, as if you know it’s him even in your sleep. Peter’s chest feels so heavy with fondness it almost hurts.

He moves away before he can get too distracted — he could watch you sleep all night if he could, but he’s super tired and wants nothing more than to get in bed with you. He showers at lightning speed, forgoes patching up the mild cut over his eyebrow (he’s sure he’ll get an earful about it in the morning, but he doesn’t really care right now) and slides into bed next to you, careful not to jostle you too much.

Still, you stir. “Pete?” You mumble, barely a word, mostly a slurred sound rather than his name. You tilt your chin up towards him in the dark. Peter can’t see your eyes but he guesses you’re awake, if the way you’re curving towards him is anything to go off of.

“Hey, angel,” he whispers. He presses his hand to your shoulder, his thumb rubbing at your collarbone. “Go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.”

But it looks like you’re already fast asleep. Peter’s gets a closer look at you and realises you hadn’t actually been awake at all. You’re still very much asleep, your chest heaving with slow and steady breaths. You nuzzle your face into his hand and bring your knees up into his side, curling up against him in your sleep. Peter feels something akin to an explosion in his chest, totally flattered at the idea that even in your sleep, you’re searching for him. He’d kiss you silly right now if you weren’t peacefully asleep. It’ll have to wait until morning.

He gets an arm around you and pulls you closer to his chest, lethargic with fondness.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs to you. He presses his mouth to your hairline in a long, slow kiss, speaking against your skin when he says, “I love you.”

You make a sound in your sleep like you’ve heard him. Peter falls asleep with his heart full.

[astermath]

peter parker is a bit of a loser skater boyfriend.

okay, he's not that much of a loser. he takes cool photos, he's good looking and he's done a skate grind on the campus staircase at least once.

and being spiderman is pretty cool too I guess.

but when he's around you, it seems like all the charm melts right off his body, and he's reduced to a nervous college student who's seemingly never interacted with a girl before.

he doesn't mean to, and neither do you, but you seem to bring out that side of him. the side that fails a skating trick every time you're looking. the side that makes him stumble over his words and almost forget his own name. the side that makes him run his hand through his hair until it sticks all over the place, and somehow he's not all that confident in his charisma and wit anymore.

and yet, every time, you offer him that sweet giggle that sends his heart into overdrive, that overtakes all his senses and makes him want to record it and listen to it on loop.

it makes him want to keep trying. until he gets the courage to finally ask you out.

[forever-rogue]

how about tasm!peter helping reader overcome anxiety, but she has a hard time expressing herself to others, even about anxiety. but peter wants to help comfort her no matter what 🤍 don't need to write this if you don't want lol

AN | Okay, this got away from me, but I think it’s so cute! There’s also a first kiss🥰❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.9k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter Parker was pretty. Really fucking pretty. 

That was one of the first things you’d noticed about him freshman year in your early morning biochem class. You learned, later on, that he was also incredibly kind, charming, and ridiculously smart. Like genius level smart. You knew he liked photography, which happened to be a hobby of your own. You wanted to be his friend; you’d thought many times about going up and speaking to him, but always talked yourself out of it.

Why would Peter Parker want to be your friend?

Instead you admired from afar, from a safe distance. But once you both graduated from ESU and went on to getting advanced degrees, you were sure that you’d never see him again. After all, New York was a huge city, and the odds that your lives would be intertwined enough to run into each other on a regular basis seemed slim to none. 

So - imagine your surprise when you started working as a research scientist at Biotech a few years and another degree later and you found that Peter Parker was starting at the same time as you. You’d done so well to keep your distance, to keep your feelings in check by being a silent admirer. But now, not only would you be seeing him every day…you’d be working closely with him in a lab all by yourself. 

You had no clue how you were going to survive, and part of you was tempted to quit and look for a different job, but you’d worked so long and so hard for this position that you weren’t going to just give it up. You were just going to have to suck it up. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And it worked, surprisingly. Peter was nothing if not polite and kind, and honestly he was a dream to work with. The two of you had a certain synchronicity that just was hard to put into words, but you complimented perfectly. Despite your initial fear, working in a lab with Peter went well. The worst part was that it made it all the more easy to fall for him. But you doubted he would ever see you as anything other than the girl at work. 

“Hey,” Peter softly interrupted your silent prayer to release any feelings for him with a soft smile. It was getting later into the evening and you were both getting ready to leave for the weekend. You flashed him a smile in response but slipped on your coat, “I was wondering…umm, do you want to grab a bite to eat?”

No way. No freaking way was Peter Parker asking you to get dinner. Right? Right?

“I-I’m sorry,” you blinked a few times and looked at him with wide eyes. His cheeks flushed a pretty pastel shade of pink as he nervously ran a hand through his hair, “what did you say?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to get some dinner,” he repeated softly, shrugging one of his shoulders lightly, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course. I just thought it might be nice to spend some time outside of work together.”

“You want to spend time with me?” your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You needed to make an appointment to get your ears checked. Peter would never want to be with you outside of work. Or, if anything, he might have been so lonely that he welcomed anyone’s company, “me?”

“Yes you,” he laughed softly and it was a sound you’d memorized over the years but still made your knees weak. He took a step closer and bit his lip for a moment, “let me clarify so we’re both on the same page - I, Peter Parker, am asking you, you, if you’d like to go out and dinner.”

“Oh,” every dream you’d ever had of Peter seemed to be coming true then and there. Peter liked you, Peter wanted to spend time with you; maybe you’d never been invisible to him after all. But no. You couldn’t…you just couldn’t. You were sure if anything he’d spend about ten minutes with you alone and he’d grow bored of you and make some excuse to leave. The idea that Peter would end up being bored of you was enough to make you never want to speak again, “umm…Peter, t-that’s really nice of you to ask. But I just…can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” it was laced with disappointment and you could see his face falling. You were pretty sure you’d just made things so much worse than if you’d just agreed on going, “no worries! I just thought I’d ask, it’s no big deal - maybe next time…well, enjoy your weekend.”

“You too, Peter,” you watched as he grabbed his bag and left, pausing at the door to turn around and give you a small wave. You returned and remained rooted in place, regret clouding your mind. If you hadn’t had such bad anxiety, you would have said yes. But the fear of messing everything up had been worse. You sighed at yourself, “pathetic.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There was something quite lovely about New York in the middle of the night. The city never quite deadened, but there was a lull to life that made everything feel so much calmer than normal. That, combined with the insomnia you struggled with from time to time, was enough of a reason for you to venture outside. You grabbed your camera and slowly climbed out of your window and onto the fire escape, slowly making your way the several floors up to the rooftop. When you got there, you set out a long exhale of relief as you looked around the space and found the big blanket you stashed up here for times like this. 

It was chilly out, but it was exhilarating and made you feel more alive than you had all day. You walked around the rooftop and looked out into the city, trying to find anything worthy of your attention. After scouring for a few minutes, you found a gathering on one of the nearby streets and decided to capture it. You framed the shot, but before you could even press the shutter, you heard something loud fall next to you, accompanied by a small oof. 

You dropped the camera which was luckily around a strap on your neck and turned towards the commotion. To your surprise and shock you found Spider-Man looking right back at you. You gasped, hands covered your face as you looked at the man in the blue and red spandex suit, “Spider-Man?”

“Hi,” he cheerily waved before putting his hands on his hips and cocking his head to the side, “what’re you doing up here? It’s freezing - and it’s late.”

“What are you doing on my roof?” you asked with just as much surprise. You’d seen him on the news, read about him on the internet, but you’d never seen him in the flesh before, “you’re shorter than I expected.”

He playfully groaned and you were sure that he’d rolled his eyes under that mask, “first of all, I’m patrolling, and I happened to be swinging by. Secondly - I’m above average height, thank you very much!”

“Well, I don’t know, I expected you to be like…6’5 or something,” you shrugged, stifling a laugh at his distress, “aren’t you a superhero and all?”

“I am still a person-”

“With spider-like abilities,” you found yourself grinning in spite of the initial nerves, “so I dunno, I figured you might be tall. The news does you justice I guess.”

“Yeah well…fine,” he huffed lightly as you laughed at him. You could have sworn that he sounded so familiar and you couldn’t quite place it. Part of you was sure that he sounded like Peter, but there was no way that your crush of eight plus years and lab partner was Spider-Man, “but seriously, what are you doing up here?”

“I…I couldn’t sleep,” you found it incredibly easy to talk to him, nerves and anxiety the last thing on your mind. Maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t see his face, or the fact that you had no clue who he was, “I go outside when I can’t sleep…it helps sometimes.”

“It’s dangerous,” he reminded you and you shrugged lightly, “you shouldn’t be out alone at night in this city.”

“Well I don’t exactly have someone that’s just available to come out with me at three in morning when I’m dealing with insomnia,” if you didn’t know any better you were sure that he sounded concerned, “it’s not the first time I’ve done this. I’ll be okay.”

“You have someone now,” he insisted and your mouth opened in surprise. When he saw the visible confusion on your face he pointed at himself, “that way I know you’ll be safe.”

“There’s only one problem with that.”

“Which is…?”

“How am I supposed to just call you if I need you?” you asked softly and he chuckled warmly as if there was some sort of inside joke between the two of you, “I don’t think there’s some sort of Spidey Signal or something.”

“I’ll be here,” he promised, “I’ll know.”

“Sure,” you liked the sound of it but you highly doubted he would just show up when you needed him. He had a whole city that he kept safe, and you were just one unimportant, small person among millions, “thanks for the concern.”

“I care about you, you know,” he said it like it was something of some personal thing to him. He must have caught his mistake because he quickly cleared his throat and added, “I care about everyone in New York.”

“Of course you do, you’re Spider-Man,” you gave him a small smile and decided that perhaps it was time for you to go. You were about to turn around and head for the fire escape when he stopped you.

“You have a camera,” you looked down before looking back at him and nodding softly, “you’re a photographer?”

“Amateur,” you confessed with a shy smile, “scientist by day, amateur photographer by night. It’s just a hobby, but it’s stuck with me through the years.”

“Wow,” you could tell that he sounded genuinely impressed. Peter, of course, knew you were a scientist, but he had no idea that you’d shared the same hobby too. It made his heart melt a little more, “that’s really cool.”

“Not as cool as being Spider-Man,” you insisted softly as he made a small sound, “I guess I better get going. And let you get back to work…or whatever you call it.”

“I’d love to see some of your work sometime,” the small that worked its way onto your face was breathtaking and made his knees weak, “if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” you nodded with your face warm despite the chill of the late fall air, “definitely. Well…I guess I’ll see you around Spidey.”

“See you around, smart girl,” if he’d had the mask off, you’d have seen the giant, dopey grin on Peter’s face. But he was gone, swinging back into the evening as you stood there and stared after him.

You were pretty sure you had just  befriended Spider-Man. Holy fuck.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You really hadn’t expected to see him ever again. But on your next little, a late night walk through the streets of Queens, he made another appearance. He swung over and gracefully landed next to you, easily catching up to your stride. You couldn’t deny that you were elated to have him there. There was something easy about talking to him, about giving bits and pieces of yourself to him, and taking what he gave back. He was always careful not to give too much away, not to reveal too much of his real identity, but you felt like you were getting to know him. And you really liked him. You spend weeks upon weeks of your evenings with Spider-Man, growing closer than you’d have thought possible to the masked man.

On the other hand, it felt like your relationship with Peter was slowly slipping away. After that first night when you’d turned him down, you created a bit of a divide between the two of you. It wasn’t for lack of wanting to be his friend or even more, it was just that you didn’t trust yourself around him. He made was Peter fucking Parker and you were just…nobody. He never made you feel that way, but that’s just what you had ingrained in your mind. And, to your dismay, Peter slowly pulled back as well, which you took as rejection, when in reality it was him not wanting to make you uncomfortable. Either way, you wished you could go back in time and just say yes to him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Spider-Man seemed to notice your glum mood the next time he saw you. You hadn’t even gone out to the roof or for a walk, but he’d made an appearance at your bedroom window, gently tapping on the glass once he’d spied you sitting at your desk, typing away. When you heard the noise, you turned around and your face morphed into a look of surprise and then happiness. You rushed over to open the window and let him.

“How did you know which window was mine?” you asked softly as he took your outstretched hand and stepped into the room. He set his hands on his hips and looked around your room, taking it all in; your face flushed with warmth as he realized he was getting a glimpse into your most intimate space. 

“I’m Spider-Man,” he said as though that explained everything, “I was in the neighborhood and wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see me?” your face softened and he nodded. 

“Can I sit?” he pointed at your bed and you nodded eagerly before plopping back down into your cushy desk chair, “I like your room. ‘s cute.”

“I…I never thought Spider-Man would be in my bedroom, I might have decorated a little more,” you joked and he laughed lightly, but he could see that your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. He paused for a moment and you could feel that he was studying you, trying to pull you apart, “what?”

“You seem upset,” he whispered, leaning towards and holding out his hand. He hesitated for a moment, trying to make sure that he didn’t cross any of your boundaries, but when he noticed that you almost leaned, put his hand on the side of your face and gently stroked your cheek, “what’s wrong, my smart girl?”

My smart girl. He had a tendency to call you; you secretly loved it more than you cared to admit. 

“It’s nothing.” you insisted, biting the inside of your cheek in order to keep the tears from welling up. You put your hand on his forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. When he made a small sound of concern in his throat, you couldn’t back the tears. A few pearled up and rolled down your cheeks, “it’s my own fault, it’s so stupid. Really, i-it’s fine.”

“It’s making you upset,” you could practically hear the frown in his voice as he used his thumb to wipe away your tears, “it’s not stupid if it’s making you upset. You don’t have to tell me…but I am here for you if you want to tell me. You can tell me anything.”

“It’s just…my friend,” you sighed lightly and pulled back, curling into yourself, “I think he’s my friend, anyway. I feel like I kept pushing him away and now I don’t think he wants to be my friend anymore. I don’t think he wants anything to do with me. We work together, and he almost never talks to me anymore unless it is about work.”

Peter’s breath hitched in his throat as he realized you were talking about him. He felt himself getting choked up as well, “what makes you think that?”

“I feel so dumb,” you shook your head, “it’s just that…I think I like him. I mean I do like him, a-as more than a friend. I’ve had a crush on Peter for a long time. Like eight years, but I’ve always thought I was invisible to him. But he just…he knows all these things about me, and it’s like…it feels like he’s always seen me, you know?”

“Why did you push him away?” Peter’s heart was beating so fast and hard he was surprised you couldn’t hear it, and even more surprised it didn’t just burst through his chest, “what happened?”

“He asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him,” you confessed as if he didn’t know all of this, “and I thought it was just as friends at first but I think he might have meant more…he seemed so upset when I said no. It made me sad to see him like that. I didn’t mean to hurt him or upset him, I just…I got so in my head and let my anxiety get the best of me. So I just said no.” 

“Did you want to say no?” he asked softly as you looked up and met his gaze through the white eyes of the mask. It just felt like he knew you, and that you knew him. There had always been that very familiar air about him, but you’d never been able to quite place why.

“No,” you admitted with a small, bitter little laugh, “I wanted to say yes. I want to spend more time with him and…I really do like him. But I’m afraid he’s going to get to know me more and think I’m boring or lame, or he just won’t like me. I have really bad anxiety and it really gets to me.”

“I’d never be able to guess,” he confessed and you gave him a small smile.

“It’s different with you,” you admitted shyly, “I feel comfortable around you, andI always have. I don't know why, but it’s true. That’s how I feel with Peter too, except that one time I clammed up so much and ruined everything.”

“I’m sure you didn’t ruin anything,” he insisted softly, and you couldn’t help but laugh lightly, “what’s so funny?”

“I don’t have as much confidence,” you shrugged, “how are you so sure? You don’t know Peter, you didn’t see the look on face when I said no. I…I never want to see that look on his face again. It made me so sad.”

Peter was internally debating on what to do. He could either tell you that it was him and risk the chance that you’d hate him forever for not telling you for so long and getting all of this out of you. Or he could continue on as Spider-Man and never tell you that it was. Or he could tell you tomorrow at work…as Peter. There were risks and benefits from each scenario. All he knew was that he couldn’t lose you; that would be too much.

“You know, Spidey, you remind me of Peter in some ways,” you whispered shyly and his heart plummeted into his stomach, “you sound like him. And you like a lot of the same things and I dunno…I feel the same way around you as I do around him. That’s never really happened with anyone before.”

“Listen-”

“It’s almost like….” you stopped yourself, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you shook your head, “it’s silly. So stupid, really.”

“Tell me,” he asked softly, “please.”

You inhaled softly, your heart pitter-pattering wildly in your chest. It was your turn to hold up your hand and reach over, ghosting your fingertips along his jaw. He leaned into your touch ever so slightly and you could feel the warmth of his skin even under the mask. You closed your eyes for a moment before exhaling shakily, “Peter?”

He paused for a moment before taking your hand and guiding it to the back of your neck where you felt the zip of the mask. You undid it softly, slowly, and when he sensed your hesitation, he helped you and slowly pulled off the mask, revealing himself to you. 

You gasped lightly when you found Peter Parker’s glittering honeyed eyes looking back at you nervously. You couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubbled up, and he visibly relaxed when you didn’t get angry. He held up his hand nervously, “hi.”

“This whole time,” you felt your face warm up when you realized that you had basically confessed your feelings to him, “I knew you seemed familiar, Spidey. I should've known that it was you. I’ve never felt the way I do about you with anyone else. When it happened with Spider-Man, I didn’t think anything of it. But it was you this whole time.”

“I didn’t know if I should tell you,” he whispered, “but I wanted you to know. And I never meant to make you feel like I was pushing you away. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable….when I had asked you out and you said no, I thought maybe you didn’t feel the same way, so I thought it’d be best to back off.”

“It wasn’t you,” you promised, “it never was. It was me. Peter, I meant what I said, I’ve had a crush on you since that first day in biochem. I wanted to be your friend for so long, but just could never bring myself to say anything. I thought maybe I could use the photography thing since that’s something we both like but it just never seemed like a good time. And when we started working together…it was nerve-wracking and wonderful. And when you asked me for dinner, I panicked and thought I would surely ruin everything, so I took the possibility of failure away by saying no and making it impossible.”

“Ever the logical scientist,” he smiled softly, “my smart girl. But so you know, you could never have ruined anything. Do you want to know a secret?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve liked you too,” he admitted and your heart felt like it was going to burst, “since that first day in biochem. But you’ve always been way out of my league, so I never said anything.”

“No way!”

“Way,” the look on your face was both pretty and priceless and he was dying to finally kiss you, “now you know all my secrets.”

“Do you want to know one of mine, Peter Parker?”

“Yes.”

“I thought about what it would be like to kiss you so many times,” you whispered so softly that he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to hear you without his heightened senses, “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Peter’s eyes lit up and you both leaned in, his lips inches away from yours. After a moment of hesitation, he finally kissed you, soft and sweet. He pulled back much sooner than you would have wished, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure it was alright. Your beaming face told him it was more than alright. 

“Was that okay?” he sounded so nervous it was almost too precious.

“I think so,” you teased lightly, “but I am a scientist and need more data to form a proper conclusion.”

“As a fellow scientist, I’m more than happy to provide all the data you could need,” he was grinning from ear to ear, “if you want that is…”

“Yes, Peter Parker,” you kissed him softly, “I would love that.”

[luveline]

tasm peter is back in stock!! love him!

i remember you did like a wednesday adams!reader fix before (i think it was with steve but i can’t remember) and i loved it. could you do a wednesday!reader and Peter fic? i just think it would be so cute

love you!

thank you for your request, love you bunches! wednesday type reader (I tried my best but this was tough she's not as murderous)

"And you're gonna be, uh," — you turn a page of the huge book in your lap, a tome in a language he doesn't know — "doing your vigilante stuff?"

"Spider-Man."

"Darling," you say, so quietly he's not sure you've truly said it, "I'm not calling you that."

"Please? Imagine how loved I'd feel, if you indulged me."

You actually bite your lip at that. That's your worst hang-up — you hate almost everything. Sci-fi movies, scented candles, the sun. You're contrite, you're unfriendly, you're quiet. But you love unflinchingly. Not usually in the ways people might expect, but you do.

"Spider-Man," you say, with little inflection.

"To answer your question, no, I'm not gonna be doing my 'vigilante stuff,'" Peter says.

He sits next to you, right next to you, arm smushed to your arm and thigh to your thigh. Your legs are crossed, your elbows sticking out, so he has to lean into you to see the pages of your book. You lift a hand to his face, wrist turned outward to cup his cheek, and squeeze just slightly, a decisive affection.

"Your hair is too long," you say. Though it's said as a complaint, it doesn't feel like one. Peter honestly just sees it as another one of your affections.

"You could cut it for me."

Your hand squeezes up and into his hair. You scratch over his scalp and look like you're thinking about it, and then you drop your hand and turn back to your book.

"No," you say, "I couldn't. Call the barber."

He grins. You're more than happy for him to lounge against you, you've never once told him to get off of you. At the start of your relationship you'd sometimes questioned things, not because you didn't understand, but because you like to clarify. He'd kissed you on the cheek once and you'd said, "You like me as I like you?"

"How do you like me?" he'd asked.

"You already know the answer."

He had, and he does. He knows exactly how you feel about him. He'd just wanted to hear it.

That's not your speed. You'll show it, though. He drops his head against your shoulder and, after a moment, you begin translating the book aloud for him so he can follow along. You speak clearly, carefully, and you even laugh at a macabre joke he doesn't understand. He laughs too, delighted at the sound.

[lostalioth]

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬

→ premise: peter needed to test how strong the new formula for his web shooters is so why not get his gf’s help, and have a little fun with it. its not like he had millions of other more scientific ways to test its strength.

→ pairing: tasm!peter x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, bondage [with peters webs], fingering, small edging, peter possibly ooc, nicknames [baby, princess]

→ a/n: kinktober 04

Sure Peter had plenty of other ways he could test out the strength of his newly formulated web fluid. But you were just so eager to help your boyfriend out, always asking him if there was something you could do. Sewing up gashes and holes in his spider suit, patching him up after a fight, etc. So why not enlist the help of his pretty girlfriend instead of testing it out the same old boring way he always did. Of course being unaware of his little scheme you innocently and sweetly said yes when he asked if you'd help him out with an experiment. That was how you ended up in Peter's bed, hands restrained together and stuck to the headboard with his webs.

His body was currently nestled between your spread legs, eyes roaming your body before fixing on your face. Your lower half is entirely exposed, the breeze from his open window nipping at your skin making you squirm. “This wasn't what I thought you meant when you asked for help, and I said yes Peter” you whine and buck your hips into his touch as his hands roam up your sides, rubbing and caressing your body. You can feel the cool metal of the singular web shooter strapped to his left wrist. “Oh this is fully what I intended when I asked baby, tug all you want, squirm all you want” he coos as he uncovers your breasts by pushing your shirt up to reveal them. “Need to test how strong the new formula is” he explains softly as his right hand falls between your open thighs, middle and ring fingers nudging open your slit and rubbing through your folds. Slick immediately collecting on the tips of his slender fingers.

With a sharp intake of breath you twist your body and try shifting your hips away from his hands. His free hand that has the web shooter aims towards your writhing leg and shoots webs that wrap your ankle tethering it to his foot board. “You sure this wasn’t what you intended, princess? You're so wet for me” he emphasizes his tease with a tilt of his head, smirking softly as his two fingers push at your hole.

You whine and push your hips back on his hand trying to get them inside you, your hole clenching at the small intrusion. “I missed you Pete, you've been so busy” you explain and look through your lashes at your boyfriend hovering over you, your eyes full of longing and love. “Awww well i'm here now baby” he leans down and presses his lips to yours just as his two fingers push knuckle deep inside you. You let out a short surprised moan against his lips as you kiss back greedily. You tug at the webs around your wrists, hands desperate and itching to touch Peter. “Keep tugging baby, try your hardest, you can do it” he mumbles into your mouth, his words both encouraging and mocking before humming when you whine in response. Goosebumps rise on your skin from the pleasure, his free hand coming to pin your hips down holding them still.

Pumping his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt, a sloppy squelching sound filling the room along with your muffled whimpers and moans. “Fuck!~” you let out a plaintive cry and pull away from peters mouth when his thumb is added in, stimulating your clit. Rubbing small circles on your bundle of nerves as his fingers speed up their movement, making your mouth fall open and your head fall back against his pillows. Your hands tug as well as your leg at his webbing, the action doing nothing to tear or unstick it. A heat spreading through your body, you liked this idea of him tying you up with his webs more than you could’ve guessed, the heat settling and growing in the pit of your stomach.

“Come on baby, i don't think your tryin’ hard enough to break out” he taunts as his long fingers find that spongy spot deep inside you and start abusing it, the rough pad of his tongue speeding up its circles. “Gonna have you cumming before you break the webs princess” he chuckles softly and leans down to kiss along the exposed column of your neck. Your head goes fuzzy from his mouth on you, his fingers ruthlessly thrusting inside you, the feeling of him all over you. “Can’t- I can’t do it Pete, i cant break em’ fuck- please baby im gonna cum!” you whine and cry out, your eyes squeezed shut as you teeter on the edge of your climax.

He grabs ahold of your chin and moves your head up the movement forces your eyes open, you stare into his deep brown eyes, his pupils blown.

“Not yet baby, the experiment hasn't gone on long enough, need to see if they break” his voice comes out sweet yet concedesing as he crashes his lips against yours to muffle your wanton moan.

Truthfully Peter had gotten enough information from all your squirming and pulling that he figured it was strong enough, he was just having far too much fun playing with his pretty girlfriend.

→ a/n: i havent written for tasm!peter in a bit so I feel like he’s possibly out of character ? Idk I felt rusty when writing him

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae! I hope your day has been as lovely as you are—which is to say, the loveliest! Could you please write a drabble with tasm!Peter and a reader who is generally not shy but flusters easily when Peter is affectionate and soft? The curse of not being used to it! No worries if not! 💞

Hope your day was as lovely as you are, sweetheart--which is to say, even lovelier <33

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 412 words

“Baby,” Peter laughs, “I know how to dress for the cold.” 

“Right, but this isn’t the subway.” You’re wrapping a scarf around his neck, mouth pulled into a frown. “It’s a long walk to your work, and it’s freezing out. They say it could even snow tonight. This early in the year! Isn’t that crazy?” 

“You’re crazy,” he says warmly. “And cute.” Your eyes dip from his face, lips pressing together to keep a smile at bay. Peter watches it happen amusedly. “If I’m late because you’re putting a dozen layers on me, I’ll just have to web to work.” 

You snap out of your bashfulness. “Peter, that’s even worse. That suit is like wearing nothing!” 

“That’s my point, sweetheart.” Peter takes your face in his hands to press a kiss to your lips, stopping you from reaching for a pair of gloves. You’re outfitted in a coat, scarf, and a hat, appropriate garb for what really is a frigid day. But no matter how many times Peter has told you he runs hot because of his mutation, he doesn’t think you really believe him. 

“I’m gonna go,” he says, “but I’ll come by your work during lunch so you can see none of my fingers have frozen off. I’ll bring you a hot chocolate, okay?” 

You wet your lips, expression softened by the kiss. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“And what if I want to?” He lets his voice drop into a lower register, syrupy sweet. Kisses you again between your brows. “Maybe I wanna thank you for taking such good care of me, did you think of that?” 

He can practically feel the warmth emanating from your skin now. Your face pinches as if in agony. “Stop,” you chide him, but there’s little bite when you can hardly speak above a murmur. “You’re doing this to me on purpose.” 

Peter smiles. “What is it that I’m doing to you, pretty girl?” 

“Peter.” 

“Now I bet you want me gone, huh?” 

He thinks you’re trying to glare at him, but you’re too shy at the moment to pull it off. “Just stay warm.”

“You too.” Peter pulls your hat down over your ears, dropping a kiss on your nose. It’s burning hot under his lips. He suppresses a laugh. 

“You’re so mean.” 

“One of us has to be; you’re too sweet.” He does laugh when you cover your face with your hands, stealing out the door. “See you at lunch!”

[natashasilverfox]

Y/n leaving the room after everyone heard her and Peter…..

Me while reading the last line….

This was so damn good tho! Damn Peter I Didn’t know you had it in you! 😏😂

BINGO: friends to lovers w/tasm!peter parker

Prompt 17: "Do you think they heard us?" "Yes. We did."

reader & peter having a ‘will they won’t they’ kind of thing going on for a while/just so much pinning with stolen stares, hugs that last too long, the other boiling with jealousy but never saying anything because it’s not their place.

then it all just comes to a breaking point where one of them is acting off/distance and they have a fight about it until they confess to the other that they’re in love with the other and it hurts too much to be around them and that leads to smut 🫶🏽

—𓆩[will they, won't they]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, angst, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.3K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Peter had a more… complicated friendship. Best friends since childhood and ever since then, you both have always danced around your feelings. You finally decide to drop your feelings for your best friend after he starts spending more time with Gwen Stacy, and decided to go out on a date with one of the jocks from school and pull away from Peter, unbeknownst to you him, Gwen, and some more of your best friends are planning a giant date proposal for you.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - I gave y’all some extra friends cuz y’all don’t have enough- || you definitely know about him being Spider-Man, and your friend group || you have glasses now! (During studying) || he accidentally blows you off for Gwen but with good reason! || cursing and foul language || you think Peter likes Gwen so maybe a little bit of angst but it’s resolved quickly || yeah no maybe a bit more than a little bit of angst- || made up OC that’s a jock and you go out with him smut warnings: sex with people in the same house as you, Peter is a fucking munch no one can change my mind, more experienced reader x less experienced Peter, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, creampie 

“So, we have her favorite flowers booked, we have her favorite food, anything else?” Gwen looks up from her clipboard that was meant to make her look more professional. She and Carter, a guy that pushed his way into your friend group, along with Alia and Jamison, all had a bet on when the hell this was going to happen.

Gwen placed two weeks, and Alia was already out because she said three days, while Carter said one week and Jamison a week and a half. The winner would have your child named after them; it was a good bet.

“Do we have her favorite songs lined up?” Peter was chewing on his thumb, anxiously walking back and forth on the roof of his apartment. “And-”

“Peter, you’re overreacting so much,” Gwen says laughing, holding up her clipboard. “I already have everything ready! You have no need to worry about anything, I got the flowers, the lights, the food, everything! It’s going to be perfect.” She looks down at her watch, nodding. “Now, it’s almost eight-”

Peter quickly looks down at his phone, gasping. “Holy shit, I was supposed to meet Y/N at seven for movie night! I’ll see you later, Gwen, thank you!”

He grabs his bag, jumping off the roof and shooting a web out to catch him.

“Go get her bug boy!” Gwen yells as Alia comes behind her, biting into one of your favorite candy bars.

“You think they’ll fuck?”

“I highly doubt it.”

It didn’t take Peter long to get to the fire escape of your apartment, settling himself onto the railing to watch your scrunched face stare down at a physics worksheet. You mumbled softly, flipping through your notes and pushing up your glasses before slamming your head down onto your desk.

It makes Peter wince as you groan loudly, quickly pushing up your window making you look back with a gasp. “Y/N, I’m so sorry I’m late, I was with Gwen-”

“Peter, what are you doing here?!” You whisper yelled, quickly standing and pushing against his chest. “You need to leave! Now!”

“What? Why?” He looked down at his suit, more specifically where your hands were on his chest before he heard more footsteps. “Is someone here?”

“Peter, leave! Now!” You pushed him out the window, quickly closing and locking it before shutting the curtains.

“I brought us some snacks!” A voice says, Peter peeking into your room in the slight exposition of the curtains. “So, strawberries or cheese? Or both, like in Ratatouille?”

You giggle, walking toward the form, Peter almost growling when he saw Henry’s pretty face and blond hair. “You know, strawberries and cheese aren’t that bad. I’ve tried it before.”

“Oh yeah?” Henry laughs. “How about we watch Ratatouille and reminisce instead of doing physics?”

You laugh. “Oh, I wish. What about we get some work done and then we watch Ratatouille?”

Henry nods, plopping onto your bed in the same space Peter always did making his fists clench. “I’ve never been good at physics.”

You giggle, shaking your head as you spin your chair around. “Me either.”

He hummed, rubbing his chin. “What about your friend? Parker? He’s good at physics, isn’t he?”

Your eyes flicker toward the window, Peter raising a brow as he nods his head in agreement. “His name is Peter,” you stand, quickly shutting the curtain correctly. “And yes, he is sickeningly good at physics.”

“Why don’t we call him up?” Henry opens his binder, humming. “I’m sure he could help.”

Your brow ruffled when the doorbell rings, quickly standing. “Who could that be?”

“Let’s hope it’s Peter,” Henry laughs as he follows behind you, your pretty apartment organized chaos.

When you open your door, your face falls when you see Peter in his clothes, obviously messy like he changed coming down the stairs (which he did, thank you), a smile on his face. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Peter!” Henry says, smiling. “You’re here!”

“I am,” Peter tries not to make his voice sound completely and utterly annoyed. “Got a sense that someone might need my physics powers.”

“Well, your sense was wrong,” you said immediately, Henry laughing.

“No, it was right. It really was.”

“You gonna let me in?” Peter asks as you glared up at him.

“Henry, I think it might be best if we continue this another day. You have to be home by eight thirty anyways, right?” You look back at the blonde boy who looked down at his very expensive watch.

“Oh, where did the time go! Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow night?” He starts walking toward your room, Peter taking that as his chance to sneak in.

“Yes!” You yelled back, shoving Peter who barely budged thanks to his new abilities. “Tomorrow night sounds good!”

Henry comes walking back out, bag over his shoulder. “Perfect,” he smiles at Peter. “Maybe I’ll see you before then, Parker! Hopefully we can get some physics done, my mom is making pot roast that is literally to die for so I need to get back.”

“Ooo, pot roast,” Peter says all posh like Henry does, and you roll your eyes instead of laughing like you normally would. “That sounds so good. You can’t miss that, Henry.”

“Right!” Henry laughs, turning to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

You nodded. “That sounds great, Henry,” you say as he slowly walks out, slowly closing the door before Henry quickly puts his hand between the door and the frame. “Yes?”

“I uhm… have a good night, Y/N.”

You inhale shakily, smiling. “You… you too, Henry.” Slowly, you close the door and lock it before turning around, jumping when you see Peter. “Peter!”

“What’s going on tomorrow night?”

You scoffed. “Henry’s taking me out on a date.”

Peter froze, quickly fixing his glasses as though his vision would affect his hearing. “What?”

You rolled your eyes. “You heard me. He’s taking me out tomorrow night to a restaurant his father owns.”

Peter shakes his head. “I… we have plans tomorrow night, Y/N.” Tomorrow was the night, you couldn’t not come on the night.

You shake your head back, crossing your arms. “Well, I thought you’d be late to that like you were today.”

Peter scoffs, rubbing his chin. “I was late one time, Y/N! You know I always come!”

You put your finger out, wiggling it toward him. “No! No, it wasn’t one time! It’s been every day for the past three weeks, you’re late to class and you say, ‘Sorry Y/N, I was with Gwen’, or study halls, ‘Sorry Y/N, I got caught up with Gwen’, or something with Gwen fucking Stacy! If want to hang out with her, you hand out with her, but don’t make plans with me whenever you’re going to be late or you don’t fucking show up at all!”

He didn’t stand you up that many times, did he? He goes through all of them, wincing slightly. Maybe he had stood you up a lot.

The room was silent as you inhaled shakily, rubbing your face with your palms. “Just… I need to finish my homework. You wasted my time arguing with me about something I’ve told you about for the past week.”

Peter’s face scrunches. “You haven’t told me about going on a fucking date with Henry fucking Ford.”

“His name is Henry Baltimore!” You yelled at him once again, covering your mouth. You had yelled more at Peter tonight more than you ever had before. “You would know that if you would read your fucking texts. Now, I need you to leave before I say something I can’t take back.”

Peter shakes his head, quickly coming in front of you. “No, Y/N, please. Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t go, don’t go out with him tomorrow night. I need to tell you something important.”

You shake your head, inhaling shakily as you press your face into your hands to hide your teary eyes from him. What was he going to tell you, that he and Gwen were dating?

“Peter, I don’t want to see you, please leave.”

He shakes his head, holding your shoulders. “No, I’m not leaving, I’m not-”

You shoved him, gasping in air to hold back your tears. “Peter, get the fuck out!” He inhaled deeply as you wipe at your cheeks, sniffling. “Y/N-”

“Peter, I’m not going to tell you again. Get out.”

Slowly, Peter walks toward the door as you stand there, arms cradling your own body as you try to control your breathing. He doesn’t say anything as he opens the door, looking back at you as you breathed shakily. “Y/N,” he says softly, but you shake your head, refusing to look back at him. “I just… I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, grabbing the blanket from the couch. “Lock the door on your way out, and leave the key under the door.”

Your heart aches as he does exactly what you said, but what else could he do? You wanted him to do one thing but told him another, how could he know what you wanted him to do?

Peter kneels down slowly, slipping the key back under your apartment door before that special tingle comes in. “What do you want?”

He slowly stood and turned around, sighing when he saw Henry. “Oh uhm… I-I left my charger.”

Peter nods slightly, holding back a scoff. How the hell do you forget a charger? “Right.”

“Peter?” Henry says as he starts to walk away, pausing. “You… you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

The one time the stereotypical jock had to be smart, the one fucking time.

“You just… you treat her right and I won’t kill you.”

You were going to kill Peter Parker. Henry called you an hour before your date after you spent hours getting ready, hoping to have the pretty dress you spent good fucking money on ripped off at most three hours into the date and the makeup you spent hours on ruined by the morning.

But no, Peter, Peter fucking Parker bad to ruin it all — all of it.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I really think you should talk to Parker before you go on a date with me. If nothing changes, I’m here.”

Changes? What the fuck was going to change?

You banged on the door, your knuckles burning as you looked down at the pink dress dotted with hand sewed strawberries all over, especially on the pink area of the corset. You did not spend almost two hundred dollars on a dress (with matching lingerie) to not have it ripped off.

When Gwen opened the door, she gasped. “You’re here!” She looked down at her watch. “And early! Why aren’t you on the roof-”

“Where is he?”

Gwen pauses when she hears your voice, slowly letting you inside as you stomped toward his room, unknowingly following the path of red rose petals.

“Hey Y/N- Y/N?!” Carter was shocked to see you before you opened Peter’s door, looking around before groaning and slamming the door.

“Peter! I know you’re in here! What the hell did you do, Henry called and canceled on me!”

You continue to turn around, gasping when you see him kneeling down in front of you. This was not happening.

“What… what are you doing?”

“We-Well uhm,” he quickly stands, fixing his suit. Peter never wore a suit. “That was probably too formal, the kneeling, but uhm-”

“Peter,” you say finally, inhaling. “Hurry up and say what you were going to say.”

He slips his hand into his pocket, slowly taking out a velvet box. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry it took me so long, I am, I just wanted it to be perfect.” He opened it slowly, a thin silver band with a diamond in the center making you gasp. “It’s just… I didn’t know what to do. You said, you said you always wanted a promise ring and-”

“Hurry up, Peter!” You almost screeched, quickly covering your mouth as he smiled, his pretty whiskey eyes looking up at you.

“Well, do you want me to kneel down or-”

You cupped his face, quickly pulling him down to kiss you, humming as his hands quickly found their place at your hips. You could feel the pressure of the small box, slowly stepping back as he follows obediently, groaning against your lips before the back of your knees bump against his mattress. Slowly, he pulls away just enough to press the velvet box into your hand.

His cheeks are red as he brushes his nose against yours, humming. “Is that a yes?”

You nodded, gasping as he slipped the ring onto your finger before setting down the box. He inhaled shakily as he lifted your hand to press against his lips. “I hope this is okay. We’ve been friends for years and-”

“Dammit, just shut up, Peter.”

You pulled him down to kiss you making him rush to put his own ring on push you down against the bed, groaning as his fingers rub against the satin ribbon keeping your dress on your body. “H-How the hell do you undo this-”

“Just pull it, you need to untie it,” you giggled, sitting up just enough for him to tug on the string and press kisses to your skin. “Peter, Peter fuck-”

“I know, honey, I can feel you,” he whispered, body already shaking. He could feel every little thing you did, he could hear every sharp breath you took as his fingers trail over your back and finally untie your dress and the cold hits your skin. “I can feel everything you do.”

Most of all, he could feel how aroused you were. He could smell it, as weird as that sounded, a sweet aroma filling his nose as he kissed into your neck and the small sparks that traveled through his fingers.

He pulls it down to your waist, hissing as you lift your hips into his just enough so he can pull it down your body, but the feeling of your body so close to his makes his eyes roll back. Your hands start to tug on his blazer before he can even finish pulling down your dress, pulling away from his lips to let out a soft whine.

“Peter, please, please-”

“I know honey, I know,” he whispers back, pulling off his blazer before he is able to focus on your body. You didn’t have a bra on, of course you didn’t because your top was a corset, but the amount of exposed skin made him stop. “Holy shit.”

“Peter, you have way too much clothes on.”

He nods frantically, quickly obeying your not so subtle command, unbuttoning his shirt before you pull him down for another kiss, humming against his lips. Your fingers push into his slacks, a whine leaving his mouth as you pull out his shirt to finish taking it off, his hands going behind his back to grab the cuffs and pull it off.

The kisses were hot, your tongue pushed into his mouth as he groaned loudly, his hands cupping your face as your own press along his chest. He pulled away just a bit for breath, letting his eyes trail along your body before your hands pressed against his chest, stroking along all of his scars.

You were the one who healed the wounds before the scars, it was only right you were the one who kissed them afterwards. With that thought, your lips pressed to the waxy skin as his hands started to undo his belt, thankful for the fact he hadn’t been able to put on his shoes.

Oh but yours, the pretty white platform heels that had to have been more than four inches and the Velcro strap around your ankles really made him want to put them around his waist, or over his shoulders — whichever came first.

“Peter?” You whisper, his eyes quickly flashing to yours. You gasped, his pupils wide as he stared at you, his hands shaky. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just…” he whispers, shaking his head as he pulls his pants and boxers off, inhaling deeply. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. It’s my first time after… you know, and I swear I can feel everything.”

“Everything?” You swallow, gasping as your cunt clenched around nothing, his eyes rolling back as he slowly begins to pump his cock.

“Everything.”

You shiver as he slowly pressed his head against your pretty lace underwear, the pink fabric embellished with strawberries embroidered onto it. He inhaled as he watched the beads of precum spread across the lace, groaning loudly.

This couldn’t have been for Henry, no. This was for him and him only, he was going to make sure of it.

“This was for that preppy mother fucker?” He almost growls, leaning down to slowly slip the panties down your thighs. He certainly would have kept them on if he wasn’t planning on absolutely devouring you.

“Peter, h-he’s not-”

“Important?” Peter suggests, kissing against your plush thighs before groaning against your skin. “Gonna make you forget his fucking name.”

Your eyes rolled back as he slowly slipped his fingers down your slit, smearing your wetness up to your clit as your eyes rolled back, gasping as his fingers firmly rub circles onto your sensitive bud. It makes you whine as he gets faster, watching as it starts to get swollen and puffy.

He groaned, leaning down to press open mouth kisses to your lower lips, sucking and tugging with his teeth as his fingers rubbed faster against your clit. He could feel you squirming under him, hands tugging his hair as you whined loudly. “Peter, Peter please-”

“Please what? Hm?” He teased you, smiling as your hips buckled. “What do you want?”

You whined loudly, the sound making the hairs on his neck stick up as he groaned into your cunt. “I-Inside, please inside-”

He hummed, his fingers slowly teasing around the tight ring of muscle. “You want what inside? What, hm?”

“Y-You, any of you, all of you!” Your voice is loud, eyes rolling back as he slowly pushes in a finger. You moaned loudly, the feeling almost foreign because you haven’t had sex or touched yourself in a long time. “Fuck!”

His finger is long and thick, curling inside of you and he could feel that tough part inside of you. He stroked it, watching as your eyes rolled back and he started to thrust his finger, pulling in and out joint by joint before pushing in until his knuckles pressed against your wet cunt. You screamed out, whining as your hips rode his digits.

“You’re so desperate,” he whispers, lips latching onto your clit and sucking loudly. He could feel your nails digging into his scalp with another whine. “What do you want, hm? Another one?”

He watched you nod, hips bucking. “Yes. Yes, I want another one, please!”

Slowly, he pushed another in, watching as you whined loudly. He could feel your body spark in slight pain and discomfort, so he lets them stay still for a minute as you panted softly. “You okay?”

You nod, humming as you slowly move a hand to his cheek. “I’m perfect, Peter. More than perfect.” He smiled, slowly thrusting his fingers to hear a mewl fall from your lips. “Fuck!”

He laughs at the pretty curse falling from your mouth, something too foul and disgusting dripping from your pretty lips humoring him. “Don’t be rude now,” he says immediately, his other hand firmly rubbing against your puffy clit. “I won’t be so nice if you start getting mouthy on me.”

You shake your head. “I won’t, I’m sorry, please please-”

He starts to thrust his fingers, eyes rolling back as he stares at your scrunched up face covered in makeup. As much as he hated the thought of ruining your pretty mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow with painted strawberries on it, he wanted nothing more than to ruin it.

He pushed your clit between his fingers, sucking hard as you squirmed before he moved his hand just a bit to press against your pelvis. “Behave, bug.”

The nickname made you whine, your hand continuing to tug on his hair as he pressed firm kissed down your slit, thrusting his fingers in and out of you as the other rubbed firm circles into your clit and your walls clamping and clenching around his digits made him moan out and rut his hips into the bed.

“You want another, darling? Hm? I think you’re going to need it for me, honey, truly.”

You nodded, gasping as he slowly pushed another one in and thrusts his fingers slowly, watching your body writhe under him. He inhaled sharply at the feeling, groaning out as he kissed against your leaking cunt. Your hips buck up into his fingers, whines falling from your lips before shaking your head. “Peter, Peter! Peter, I want you- please. Please, need you now-”

He laughs. “What, you don’t want me to finish stretching you out? You just want to feel my cock?”

You nodded, tugging his head back. “Yes. Yes, yes please!”

Slowly, he pulled but his fingers, sucking and kissing against your entrance before pushing his fingers into his mouth. “You just want to be stretched out by me, don’t you?”

You nodded, gasping as he sat up and kneeled over your body. He takes his cock that was leaking precum drip out steadily as he pumped himself and watched it slowly spurt onto your cunt. It makes you whine as he slathers it around with his tip, pushing it down your slit before pushing his head into your cunt.

He watched your eyes roll back, a groan falling from his lips before he ruts his hips deeper into you. You whine, hands quickly rubbing against his back before your nails dig into his skin. He let out a shaky moan, groaning loudly as he pressed a kiss to your head. “Fucking hell, darling, you’re so tight. So, so tight.”

You squirm. “Feels good, feels so good,” you say, gasping as he starts to thrust, whining loudly. “Oh! Holy shit, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

He groaned into your neck, cursing as he held himself up by his hands and rolled his hips. “Fuck, fuck baby, barely been in for a minute and I’m already going to cum. You’re so fucking tight around me, I can barely breathe.”

You nod repeatedly, your head shaking as you pull him lower. “Please, please, inside. Don’t pull out, I don’t want you to pull out.”

His eyes rolled back as he choked, your walls tight as he started to thrust harder and harder, the bed slamming into the wall. Your nails scratch against his back, sobs of pleasure falling from your lips as his cock drags against your walls and hits that spot inside of you that makes your body shake. Your hips almost instinctively rolled into his own, desperate for more before he pulled your legs around him, the cold faux leather and your heavy platforms settling against his lower back.

“Fuck, fuck baby,” he whispers, almost growling as his thrusts get harder and unhinged, your body bouncing withe every test. “Fucking hell!”

You moaned his name over and over, the only thing calling from your mouth Peter, Peter, Peter… like a mantra, whines most likely interrupting every syllable. He could feel every twitch of your fingers, every clench of your cunt, every breath against his neck as he pressed kisses to your shoulder.

He dragged his tongue along your skin, teasing his teeth against you before sucking. He could feel your chest against his, your stuttering breath before you pulled him up for a kiss and your fingers shakily ran through his hair. He almost whimpered, hips moving faster before you clamp down on him with a loud moan and a creamy ring enveloping his cock.

His hips stutter, loud moans falling from your lips before he inhales deeply and thrusts into you as deep as he could, screaming out your name as he comes inside.

His eyes roll back, broken moans leaving his lips as you breathe shakily, hands rubbing against his cheeks. “It took you long enough.”

Peter smiles. “Yeah, it did, didn’t it? You know… I was always with Gwen because she and the rest of them were helping me plan this.”

You gasped, looking back. “You think they heard?”

“Yes! Yes, we did! Everything! The cumshot too!”

omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!

Taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[weird-is-life]

rockstar!peter finding readers ig and following her or smth

Hiii, lovely🥰ty for this cute request, I'm sorry it took so long, sorry this is not very good lmao. Warnings: mentions of alcohol, Peter is a hopeless (and dramatic) romantic, swear words, fluff, (0.8k)

Peter doesn't even remember the last time he had a real, serious crush on somebody. Like rockstars probably shouldn't even have crushes like that. His band mates would joke that it's very unrockstar-like.

But.....

Peter is and always has been a hopeless romantic. Even before the band's fame had started to rise. So it's safe to say that Peter is down bad.

When you don't text him after one day and then two days and then three days, Peter goes insane.

He ends up thinking that you either read his letter and ignored it or that you threw the paper away. In his hopeful spirits, he chooses to believe in the latter option.

And that's how he somehow ends up scrolling through the endless hashtag of the concert. He hopes that you or at least one of your friends tagged a photo or a video or something so he can somehow text you.

After what feels like endless search Peter almost gives up. He searches all the possible hashtags of the event, and doesn't find anything.

He gets close to just throwing his phone across the room, and leaving it there when he finally finds you.

It's you. But the photo isn't under any hashtags. The venue where the concert was held reblogged your friends post, and that's how Peter found it.

It's a photo of you and your two friends smiling big in front of the main stage. You look as pretty as Peter remembers, but something else catches his attention.

You are wearing the shirt. His shirt! And somehow Peter's stomach does some things that he didn't even think were possible. Butterflies only get worse as he looks at the picture again.

To Peter's insane luck your friend did tag you in the photo, but..... You have a private profile.

"Shit," Peter groans loudly. He doubts you will accept his request if you have indeed ignored the paper.

He contemplates whether he should just move on or whether he should click the request button.

Peter doesn't get the choice to decide as he accidentally clicks on the request button with a part of his hand. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he quickly locks the phone, and throws it away from him.

"She's gonna block me," Peter murmurs to himself, and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Peter puts his face in his palms in despair, praying that the earth would just swallow him.

Peter doesn't know how long he stays in that position until a loud sound of a new notification bolts him upright.

He reaches for his phone with a slightly shaky hands. He manages to unlock his phone on like a fourth try after saying to himself, " fucking hell, Peter. Get it together."

The notification indeed came from you. You accepted his request along with a text.

The text says, "Did you give me a fake number?" You ask with an attached picture of the paper he gave you.

Peter's heart literally stops. He feels like such an idiot, like the biggest idiot that has ever walked this Earth actually.

No, he didn't give you a fake number. And no you didn't ignore his letter. And no you didn't throw the paper away.

Peter just doesn't seem to know his own phone number. Stupid stupid stupid. I guess, Peter in such a hurry to write that letter for you wrote one number from his phone number wrong.

Peter doesn't think he has ever written a text as quickly as he has now. He types an apology along with the correct phone number, and hopes you will forgive him and his poor memory.

He notices that you open his text, but you don't respond. He waits for your response for like 5 minutes (loosing his shit may I add), already thinking that you are gonna ghost him.

But of course, you aren't. You thought that Peter, a huge upcoming rockstar, gave you a fake number just to mess with you.

So when you finally tried sending him a message, and it didn't send through, you were gutted to say the least. You drank your silly little crush away with your two best friends and a bottle of wine.

Already thinking of how much a fool you've been for thinking that he'd actually give his number to you.

So to say the least you definitely didn't expect a follow request from him the morning after.

Still slightly hungover from the wine, you accept the request and send him the texts.

When he responds with an apology, and allegedly the right phone number you are a bit hesitant to message him again.

After thinking it through quickly, you message him," Is this really Peter this time?"

He responds almost immediately with a photo of him having a big smile on his face. More than beyond happy that you aren't ghosting him.

And safe to say that your friends are even more happy once they wake up and hear it. Celebratory wine being opened once again.

And so are you. You are very excited to get to know Peter. And for him to get to know you.

[bruisedboys]

…..tasm!peter x shy!r. yes. but……i imagine peter gets really excited for you when you do things for yourself like a dork. like ordering for yourself or asking for help at the stores finding something. it’s so basic but peter knows you struggle so he just gets really excited 4 u.

screams and cries!!!! he’s so lovely I’ve died. why would u do this to me aerial

shy!fem!reader 0.7k words

Peter’s nowhere to be seen. He said he’d only be a minute getting strawberries from the fruit aisle. He’s been more than a minute. And now you’re stuck in the freezer section wondering where on earth they keep the ice cream cones, and why on earth they’re not next to the ice cream.

A worker is stacking tubs of ice cream not far from you. Normally you’d get Peter to ask for help, or he’d just do it for you without you having to ask. Either way, Peter’s not here. And your ticket to finding the cones for ice cream night with Peter is standing halfway down the aisle from you.

You take a deep breath and bite the bullet, striding up to the worker before you can psych yourself out.

“Um.” You clear your throat. Your heart is pounding. “Excuse me?”

The worker turns to look at you. She makes eye contact with you and you forget to speak for half a second before remembering what you’re doing.

“Um, sorry to bother you.” You offer an awkward smile. “But could you tell me where the ice cream cones are?”

“Of course,” she nods and smiles. “They’re just in aisle three, with the toppings.”

You smile at her, relieved that you haven’t muddled your words or embarrassed yourself too much. “Thank you so much.”

You turn on your heel, hot faced, and walk about two steps before you bump into something tall, firm and Peter shaped.

You gasp and almost stumble backwards, but Peter gets his hand around your elbow before you go falling to your demise.

You look up. Peter’s grinning wide, his fingers curled around your elbow.

“Hi, pretty,” he says. His hair is falling into his eyes. He’s got a punnet of bright red strawberries in his other hand. He’s so lovely it makes your chest ache.

“Hi,” you beam. “I found out where the cones are.”

“I saw that,” he says knowingly, nodding behind you towards the worker you’d spoken to. His hand pushes down to your forearm and squeezes. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

You give him a look like you’re not totally adored by him right now. Like your heart hasn’t just swelled twice as big. You pretend to be offended.

“Were you standing here the whole time?” You ask him, eyebrows raised.

He has the decency to at least pretend to look guilty.

“Well …” He rubs the back of his neck. “Not the whole time. I came right when you were asking her and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You huff. “Right.”

Peter lets go of you and steps back. It only lasts about a second. He takes one look at you and changes his mind. He throws his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. He’s smiling so big you’re worried he’ll get stuck like that.

“What?” You ask, giggling and flustered from his attention.

Peter makes a happy noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, and wraps his other arm around you until you’re circled in his hold. His punnet of strawberries squashed between his hand and your back. He hugs you so tight you can barely breathe, his arms like bars around your shoulders. You can’t say you care.

You’re breathless as you giggle into his chest. “Pete, what—?”

“I’m so proud of you,” he says before you can finish. You can hear his smile clear as day. He’s so earnest, so happy for you, it makes you dizzy. He dips his head down so his lips ghost over the skin behind your ear. It’s far too intimate for a grocery store. You’re too busy trying not to breathe too fast to care.

“Really, baby.” He’s murmuring into your skin and you can feel every word, goosebumps erupting underneath his lips. “You’re spectacular.”

“Pete,” you manage, hardly breathing. You push at his chest, your hands squashed between him and you, until he gives in and pulls away.

“Yeah?” He asks, head tilted like a puppy. His eyes are so bright is blinding.

“Let’s, um.” You take a big breath and try to slow your pounding heart. It doesn’t work. Peter notices too, you can see it in his smile that he knows how much he affects you. “Let’s go get the cones, yeah?”

“Okay.” Pete grins so wide his eyelashes kiss. “But can I have one more hug first?”

You indulge him. For his gain only, of course.

-

[writtenbymoonflower]

hii! this is my first time requesting ever so i hope im doing this right 😫

could i request a tasm!peter smut fic where the reader has never had an orgasm? they’ve tried before, so they’re not necessarily innocent, but it’s just never happened. peter then helps reader orgasm for the first time and it’s just overall very fluffy :) fem reader please!

thank you!! i love your writing!!!!

thank you for requesting hunny! you did it exactly right. tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

cw: detailed smut, fingering, trope of experienced guy, inexperienced girl, swearing

1k words

The turn the afternoon had taken was definitely unexpected, but certainly more than welcome. Peter had initially invited you over to study, but you had gotten distracted. Now your books had been clumsily flung off the bed long forgotten and abandoned for better things. You laid upon rumpled covers, Peter tugging impatiently at the neckline of your top as he kissed you. You arched up into him, pulling him as close as physically possible. His mouth met the fingers of one hand at your collarbone, the other gripped your waist, nudging the fabric away to touch your skin. 

“This okay, baby?” Peter held himself above you, scanning your face for any traces of what you were feeling. 

“Yes please.” You said, a little too enthusiastically for your tastes. You checked his face for any evidence of discomfort. “Are you okay with this?” 

He was grinning at you now, eyes full of affection. “Yes, I am okay with this.” His tone implied that it was far more than just “okay”. That was further confirmed when his hips slotted into yours and you felt the full evidence of his desire. Your shirt and pants were soon discarded and his your boyfriend’s hands were eagerly exploring every inch of newly-exposed warm skin. He pulled away briefly to remove his own shirt, but the second the material was gone he was on you again, greedy and excited. As he mouthed at your neck his fingers were trailing down your torso, leaving the nerves hypersensitive in his wake. They slipped into the waistband on your panties, lighting your skin on fire.

“Can I touch you here, sweet girl?” He whispered into your neck, his thumb pressing over the damp center of your underwear. You nodded fervently, mumbling affirmatives. You felt him smile against your collarbone as he tugged your panties off, not caring where they landed. You relaxed your legs as he opened them slightly, trailing his long fingers teasingly up your thighs as he got closer and closer to the apex. Just before giving into your wants, he moved them away, chuckling mischievously at your frustration. 

“Please, Pete.” You grabbed his wrist moving him closer to your core. He grinned against your neck as he obliged you, fingers trailing up and down your slit a few times before settling at your clit. You let out a shaky sigh as he rubbed you in light circles, slowly winding you up. 

“Yeah, baby? That feel good?” He questioned. 

“Yes.” You answered, even though you knew it was rhetorical. You gently pulled his head up to be level with yours. “Kiss me please?” 

He did so without any teasing or games. His mouth was sweet and gentle on your lips, even as he moved them down to your jaw and ear, letting your soft moans slip freely from your lips. As you got more worked up his fingers became more determined, letting two slide to your opening as your clit pulsed beneath his thumb. Peter circled your entrance, awaiting your pleased reaction before they slipped inside of you, searching for the spot on your front wall he hoped would make you fall apart. He quickly found it.

“Oh shit.” You choked, letting your head fall back further against the pillows. It only took a few more seconds of his fingers and thumb working you for your hips to start bucking. There was an unfamiliar heat building in your belly. Usually by now, sex would be almost over. Or, if you were on your own you would’ve given up before even starting. 

Peter sat up a little as his other hand held you in place. He looked too pleased with himself at your reactions. Your whole body started building up and you panicked. 

“Oh my god. What’s happening?” You were squirming even as he held you down. He immediately slowed his movements.

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking you over. 

“It feels weird, like in my- my stomach. I don’t know what’s happening.” You scrambled breathlessly. He looked in realization, immediately doubling his actions. He cooed at your jolting. 

“It’s okay, baby. Just relax, let it out. I’ve got you, you’re alright.” You loosened, deciding to let the feeling take hold. And take hold it did, you would’ve lept off the bed if his free hand wasn’t pressing firmly into your pelvis. Your body wound tighter and tighter until it all fell apart, pleasurable spasms flowing through your jelly limbs as you gasped and squeezed Peter's arms and shoulders. Electric warmth fizzled through you as your eyes grew heavy. Peter slowed his movements, muttering praises and affirmatives as you came down from your high. 

“Thank you.” You said as you caught your breath. You sat up and pulled him closer, desperately wanting closeness and feeling like you would go crazy if you didn’t get it. He chuckled at your rare display of neediness. 

“You’re fucking adorable.” He kissed your cheek, holding you close. He waited a few seconds before rolling onto his side, looking at your face. “You feeling okay?” 

“I feel really good.” You sighed, melting into the sheets. You reached your his hand, stroking your thumb over the prominent veins in his wrist. You laid there in silence for a short while before he spoke up, skepticism lilting his voice.

“So like, you said that you’ve had sex before, right?” His tone was curious as he was still pawing at your hair and chest affectionately. 

“Yeah? Why?” 

“Have you never, like, cum before?” He seemed confused. You choked out a surprised laugh. 

“I thought I had.” You said, winded. "Is it supposed to be like that every time?"

He laughed, smoothing your hair away from your face. "I don't know, babe. I’m pretty sure it is." He looked equal parts smug and affectionate.

"Well it's never been like that before.” You said, wistfully. A smile soon returned. “That felt really good, Pete.”

He laughed, clearly endeared by your longing tone. “Well I would hope so.” He eyed you, scheming. “I bet it could be better though.”

You looked at him wide eyed, nervousness and anticipation building in your core again. “Really?”

He loomed over you again, lips finding your ear. “There’s only one way to find out.”

[forever-rogue]

Ok, just got an idea of tasm.

What about a first introduction with May, like reader is so anxious about meeting her and when she finally does so she realizes May is so sweet with her 🥺

Aunt May being so sweet with Peter's girl just got me ✨😭

AN | No, but May is the best! She’d absolutely adore Peter’s girl❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A million thoughts were racing through your mind; unfortunately none of them were good. You were about to meet the most important woman in Peter’s life, beside you, and all you wanted was to make a good first impression. You had no clue what you would do if she didn’t like you. You’d probably be dumped and heartbroken. 

“Stop being stupid,” you groaned at your reflection as you fixed your hair. You wanted to look perfect without looking like you were trying too hard. Ugh. You were definitely overthinking this. It was supposed to be a simple dinner, not some sort of life changing event. But…it kind of was. For you anyway.

“Hey Bug,” you hadn’t heard Peter let himself into your apartment. When you looked up, you found leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as you met his gaze in the mirror, “you look beautiful.”

You relaxed at his words, letting out a soft sigh as you turned around to face, “are you sure? It’s not too much or not enough?”

“It’s perfect,” he took a few steps closer to you, “you could wear anything and it would be perfect.”

“Shut up,” you gently pushed at his chest but he didn’t budge, instead only softly laughed, “I’m nervous, Pete.”

“Don’t be nervous,” he cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “there’s no reason to worry. May is going to love you - she might even end up loving you more than me.”

“I hope she likes me at least a little bit,” you whispered, leaning into soft touch, “what if she doesn’t for some reason?”

“That’s impossible,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as you huffed at him, “trust me.”

“I do…mostly,” you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips, “but you know, the whole not telling me about the fact that you were Spider-Man doesn’t help your honesty credibility.”

“To be fair, Bug, I didn’t and wasn’t going to tell you,” you raised an eyebrow at him as his cheeks flushed lightly, “I mean, I was going to eventually…but you beat me to it.”

“You weren’t exactly subtle, Peter Parker,” you remembered the evening you discovered his alter ego like it was yesterday, “you came into the bedroom in the suit and bleeding profusely, remember? Or did you lose too much blood and forget?”

“I remember,” he mumbled softly. It was one of the first nights you’d stayed over at his apartment but duty had called; he left in the middle of the night while you slept soundly in his bed. He’d intended to be back and next to you in bed before you even woke up. Unfortunately it hadn’t happened that way at all, “it was…not how I planned on telling you.”

“Nevertheless, you lied to me…sort,” you waved your hand around before leaning against the counter with a heavy sigh, “so what you’re doing that to me now and you just know May will hate me?”

“I…” he paused for a moment, incredulous at your little theory as you pouted at him, “do you really think I’d do that?”

“No,” you sighed softly, your shoulders sinking as he pulled you into a hug, tucking you perfectly into his frame, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I just want this to go well, Pete.”

“It will,” he rubbed your back in soothing circles as you mumbled something against his chest, “it’s just May and me. Nothing is going to go wrong.”

“Fine,” you finally gave in as Peter chuckled softly, “let’s just go and do this.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You walked up the steps to May’s house, clutching on Peter’s hand tightly; if he was superhuman you might have even broken it. In your other hand was a bouquet of flowers that you’d picked up just for May. Your heart was beating so loudly you were positive that Peter could easily hear it. Once he knocked, you listened with bated breath for the door to be answered, trying to see if you could hear May coming.

And yet, it still took you by surprise when the door was gently opened and there stood May Parker, the woman, the myth, and the legend herself. She was a smaller woman but she had a giant presence about her; you could see how much Peter loved her just from the way his lit up, “Aunt May!”

“Peter,” he gently let go of your hand and wrapped her up in a giant hug that caused her to chuckle at him, “it’s good to see you, sweetheart.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek before shifting her gaze over to you. You half expected to see some sort of judgment, but in reality you saw nothing of the short. If you thought she softened for Peter, she was even more gentle with you. 

“Hi Mrs. Parker,” you held out the flowers to her, hoping you didn’t appear too intimidated, “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

She said your name, so warm and tenderly, before taking the flowers and pulling you into a hug as well. There must have been something in the Parker family that caused all of them to give the best hugs; Peter probably learned from her, “it’s so good to finally meet you. It feels like it’s been so long and Peter never shuts up about y-”

“Alright, alright,” Peter’s cheeks pinked as you looked at him with a huge grin. Your heart felt like it was going to burst with all the affection that you had for these two people, “let’s, ugh, get inside before it gets too cold.”

“Oh Peter, don’t get all shy,” May wrapped her arm around your shoulders before leading you inside, “I think it’s wonderful that you have some to love so much.”

You flashed him a grin over your shoulder as you stepped inside the Parker home; he was a very bright red that gave you enough pause to hang back and press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Peter, can you please put these beautiful flowers into some water for me,” the kitchen and the entire house smelled absolutely divine. You’d been told that she was a good cook and that almost made your mouth water in excitement, “dinner’s almost ready.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you couldn’t help as but cast curious eyes around the kitchen and dining area, looking at all the photos that were hung up and items that were displayed. A photograph of a young Peter caught your eye as you walked over to it and looked at it closer. He was super cute as a kid and you couldn’t help but wonder what your kids would like…you hoped that you’d get to find out one day, “oh my gosh, Pete! You were so precious!”

“Peter really was the cutest and sweetest boy,” May agreed as Peter looked mortified; he wished the floor would open up and swallowed him whole, “he was such a good boy.”

“Wonder what happened?” you teased as May laughed. Alright, you already liked her a lot. Your nerves were still there, but they weren’t nearly as bad as they had initially been. 

“Oh haha, you’re so funny,” he stuck his tongue out at you, before instinctively going to set the table. May had really raised him well, “one day I’ll get to see your old pictures and we’ll see how you like it.”

“It’s so fun to tease you,” you walked back into the kitchen to help May, “besides, maybe one day our kids will be that cute.”

It was no secret that Peter wanted a family one day, and you’d both agreed that you wanted at least one child together. Your comment definitely caused Peter to feel a certain type of way and his eyes grew wide as he looked at you. He was definitely going to hang onto this feeling later when it was just the two of you. May, meanwhile, made a small sound of agreement, “you two will have adorable kids, that’s a given.”

“Oh,” your entire face warmed up as you stole a glance at Peter. He looked a mixture of both excited and embarrassed, “well I guess we’ll just have to wait and see one day.”

That seemed to quell them both as your stomach exploded with butterflies. You knew that Peter would be a great father one day and were equally sure that May would be a wonderful grandmother. You felt lucky to have them in your lives; but then, you’d known that Peter would be something special to you from the day you met him.

May hummed in content as you helped her to finish dinner. She had such a warm and calming presence and you already loved being around her. It was easy to fall into a rhythm and pattern with her and before you knew it, the three of you were sitting around the table and eating dinner. She was an excellent cook and it was such a welcome thing to behold a home cooked meal. 

Afterwards when you were all stuffed, Peter helped May with a few things around the house while the two of you cleaned up. 

“You know,” her voice was tender and gentle as she dried the dishes that you had washed, “I haven’t seen Peter this happy in a long time. It makes me happy to see him doing so well. He deserves it.”

“He does,” you agreed softly, “he makes me really happy too. He’s a good man and I…I’ve never met anyone like him before. He’s special to me.”

“He’s always been a good boy,” she agreed, looking into the living room and finding him softly speaking to himself as he moved some furniture around for her, “it was hard for him, with what happened to poor Gwen, and it took a long time for him to be himself again. I was worried I’d lost my boy too, but slowly over time he got better. And then, when I noticed just how happy he seemed, he told me about you. Well, when he first met you, I should say.”

 “I met him and we were friends for a long time before we started dating,” you looked at her in confusion but she only responded with a knowing smile. You inhaled softly as you looked over at your boyfriend. He must have felt you looking at him because his gaze quickly shifted to yours and his entire face lit up, “oh. Oh.”

“Mhmm,” she put the last of the dishes away before giving your arm a small squeeze, “needless to say I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time.”

“Oh May,” you blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over before hugging her. In truth Parker fashion, she hugged you tightly and rubbed your back in soothing motions, “I’ve been so nervous and excited to meet you. Peter speaks so highly of you and I understand why. Thank you for being so kind and welcoming. Peter is amazing and he always says he owes it to you. I can understand why. You’re both great.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” she promised softly, “as far as I’m concerned you’re family, sweetheart. If you ever need anything or need me to have a word with him, just let me know, alright?”

“I will,” you beamed at her, “I will.”

“Hey May?” Peter walked into the kitchen sheepishly, “did you, umm, make dessert by chance?”

“Of course I did,” she tutted at him before exchanging a look with you, “I made your favorite.”

“Yes!” he kissed her cheeks, “you’re the best.”

“And don’t you forget it!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you and Peter left May’s it was late; you hadn’t expected to be gone for so long but it was just so easy and fun to hang around with Peter and May. Peter held your hand, a knowing  little smile on his face as got into the cab to go back to your apartment. You, naturally, had a big tote full of leftovers to take with you. 

You’d fallen asleep next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He was reluctant to wake you up but he did so gently before scooping you into his arms and carrying you upstairs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tightly, burrowing your face into his chest. 

“That wasn’t so bad was it, Bug?” he asked as he set you down and bent over to help slip off your heels. You felt so incredibly warm and fuzzy at the sweet but simple gesture, “you lived.”

“Shut up, Parker,” you sighed gently as he pressed a kiss to your ankle before standing back and towering over you. You moved to take off his jacket and hung it up by the door, “I think you might be officially demoted to my second favorite Parker.”

“Wow,” he put his hand on his chest and sighed dramatically, “that’s hurtful baby. I should have known better than to introduce the two of you. My favorite women are ganging up against me already.”

“Never,” you reached for his hand and started to pull him towards your bedroom. You were tired and all you wanted was to cuddle up with him. He easily obliged, lacing his fingers through yours, “you’ll always be my favorite, Peter Parker.”

You quickly stripped off your clothes before tugging at Peter’s and getting him down to his boxers. You’d worry about your makeup and everything else later. Peter pulled you into his arms as soon as you were both lying down and under the covers.

“What am I your favorite of?” he whispered, causing goosebumps to raise up on your skin as he ghosted his fingers along your soft skin. 

“My favorite everything,” you replied as thought it was the most obvious thing in the world, “my favorite best friend, my favorite boyfriend, my favorite superhero…all of it.”

“You’re my favorite too,” he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, “in case that wasn’t obvious.”

“Hmmm,” you hummed in content, “will you stay tonight? No Spider-Man-ing?”

“Yes,” he gave you a gentle squeeze, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Unless it’s an emergency.” 

“Unless it’s an absolute emergency.”

“Good,” you horribly stifled a yawn before settling further into the pillows, “love you, spider-boy.”

“I love you too Bug.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

stay still

kinktober, day five

warnings: peter parker x reader, smut, established relationship, bondage (but it's with his webs, grrrrr), oral, dirty talk, orgasm denial

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“Stay still.” 

Peter’s voice vibrated against your soppy folds, unfortunately only having the opposite effect on your bucking hips as the added tingle caused your buzzy form to lose control. 

“Stop,” he spoke a little firmer this time, clasping his strong forearm over your frantic pelvis in an attempt to keep you still against his tongue. 

“Fuck, Pete,” you panted, eyes rolling in your skull from how close you were to the edge, “please don’t stop, that feels so good-”

But your sentence abruptly morphed into a shrill yelp as ivory webs suddenly clung to your middle and twisted you around 180 degrees as it flung you up off the bed. Hovering just over a foot off the mattress, hair falling down around your face, your wide eyes trained on your boyfriend as he got up and shot a few more latticed restraints in your direction, effectively hog-tying the rest of your limbs to the single cord that clung to the ceiling. 

“Peter-,” he sent one last web out to engulf your lips.

Grazing his fingers through your tousled hair, his dark eyes then twinkled, “I told you to stay still, baby.” 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[cosmal]

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

stained

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shit," he curses to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[padsmoony04]

Would having my favorite fictional character as my boyfriend fix any of my problems? No, not at all, but at least I would get comfort cuddles and kisses on my forehead.