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blooming-violets · 1 year ago

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Hear me out :

Peter is jaded after Gwen, it’s before the events of NWH, and he’s slowly starting to fall in love with a woman he’s (literally) ran into at the library. She’s intellectual, kind, but is also a little jaded like Peter. Slowly, he has seen hope in her chestnut eyes. He is starting to see a future.

One night, Peter is listening to the police scanners and hears the code for an armed break-in, and it’s library girl’s apartment complex’s address.

He swallows, angry chills run up his spine as he hears her apartment number called out.

What does he do, Katie? How would he react?

I'm With You || TASM Peter Parker x fem!Reader

Trigger Warnings: stalking, sexual assault of a woman (being masturbated over by a man and touched w/o consent), nudity, crass language, gun usage, armed break-ins with the intent to harm a woman living alone, being tied and gagged against her will, violence from Peter/Spider-Man with a tiny bit of gore

It’s a damn cold night.

Peter tugged his jacket close around his body as he jogged the last few remaining steps into the public library. His overdue books were hidden inside the satchel at his side. He was about a month late in returning them and the library was almost closed. He wanted to get them in before he forgot. If he waited another day, he would never remember to bring them back.

As he rounded the corner, he tripped over someone’s outstretched legs. Being a man of his talents, he quickly corrected his fall to land effortlessly back on his feet with the elegance of a ballerina making a graceful leap.

Quizzical eyes stared up at him.

The woman on the floor was leaning with her back against the bookcase with an open book in her lap. She looked more annoyed at him for tripping over her instead of apologetic for having her legs across the aisle.

“Watch where you’re going,” she grumbled.

She lifted the book up to her face, blocking him back out.

Peter let out a breathy laugh of disbelief at the audacity of this bitch.

“Excuse me?” He said, agast.

She peeked her eyes over the top of the book to stare him down, “Dude, get lost. I’m busy. Not my fault you’re clumsy.”

“You tripped me!” He read the cover of the book she was reading. The Making of the Atomic Bomb by Richard Rhodes. “Doing a bit of light reading, I see. First it’s tripping innocent strangers and next it’s world domination? Is that it?”

He caught the smallest of smiles tug at her lips hidden behind the book.

A singular butterfly fluttered around inside his stomach at the sight. The feeling was enough to grab his attention. He quietly admired her. Legs still stretched out in front of her. Zero regard for the space she was taking up. He kind of liked it. She didn’t give a shit.

Peter turned and left her to her book, not wanting to bother her further, and headed to the front desk to deal with his late fees.

A week had passed and he was back in the library. He had no real purpose for being there today other than he liked the smell of the books. They made him feel relaxed. He liked to walk down the aisles and let his fingers graze across each bump of their spines. Every book he touched, filled with another story, another world, hundreds of lives under the tips of his fingers.

“Hey,” a feminine voice hissed from between a gap of books on the other side of the shelf.

Those eyes. He blinked back at them, peering between the shelves, trying to place where he remembered them from.

Then it hit him.

Atomic bomb girl.

“Can I borrow your height?” She whispered, keeping her voice low to be respectful to the people studying on the other side of the room. Unlike the last time he saw her, it was a Thursday afternoon and the library was full with students.

Peter slipped into the next aisle. She pointed to the book she wanted on the top shelf, just out of her reach. He plucked it down for her and turned it over in his hands. Relativity: The Special and the General Theory by Albert Einstein.

She eyed him with an intensity he wasn’t used to, like she was seeing straight through his skin and into his soul. Her eyes were captivating. He wanted to get lost in them.

“You’re the unbalanced, trippy guy, right?” She asked.

Peter smiled. Last night he stood on one foot on top of the Empire State Building spire just to admire the view. He was more balanced than she would ever know.

“You mean, am I the one you tripped? Yes.” He handed her over the book. “You’re into science, I see, atomic bomb girl?”

“I’m into learning. Whatever form that may come in.” She took the book and tucked it under her arm. “Thanks, trippy.”

“Peter,” he called after her as she spun around to walk away. “You can call me Peter!”

The library became his new home. He took every opportunity to attend in the hopes of bumping into her again. Some days were a success, other’s a failure, but he found himself wanting more. Every time she had a new book and every time he would find the same one to read after her. It wasn’t weird. He was just…trying to find quiet ways to relate to someone new.

So he told himself.

Peter had forgotten how to talk to women after Gwen. It had been so long since he even attempted to date anyone.

“Are you stalking me?” She asked one evening when she walked into the room to find him sitting on his laptop at one of the tables.

He glanced up and shrugged, “I was here first this time. Maybe you’re stalking me?”

She smiled and slid into the seat across from him, “I already have one stalker. I don’t need another. If you’re into me, you better just grow a pair, and ask me out now.”

Peter grinned, “I’m…wait…okay.” He ran a hand through his hair, sitting up straighter, completely letting the stalker comments fly over his head as he got flustered. “Would you like to go on a date with me? Right here. Right now. If you say ‘yes’ then it’s already starting.” He closed his laptop to give her his full attention.

Her eyes widened and she settled happily back into her chair, “Alright, Peter, was it? Nice to meet you. This is an interesting choice of restaurant for a first date. Not what I would have chosen for our dinner and a movie night. I didn’t see a kitchen when I walked in but I chose to trust you.”

“This is the finest establishment the borough has to offer,” he feigned a gasp. “Don’t you insult my choice of restaurant.”

He raised a finger in the air, pretending to call over an imaginary waiter, “Hello, yes, I will take your finest bottle of wine for the table to start. The more expensive, the better. And I will take a big, giant steak for myself and, perhaps, a nice, small salad for the lovely lady?” He shot her a cheeky wink as she let out a laugh.

“Fuck you,” she giggled.

Fucking him was exactly what she did.

They continued their imaginary dinner date in the library until it closed, the librarian kicking them out and shooing them out the front door. They walked into the chilly night air, stopping at a bodega at the street corner to grab a few snacks, as they made their way to her place.

He had slept with other women since Gwen passed but this time was different. There were feelings involved. Feelings that were still in their infancy. Ones that were just sparking to life. But they were there. He didn’t just want to fuck her and run. He wanted more than that. He wanted to stay. He wanted to grow and cultivate whatever path they were headed down. He wanted this to be something.

He was ready to try dating again.

She rolled over in the bed, naked and relaxed, staring up at the ceiling, “That was amazing. You really know how to use that tongue of yours for more than just being a dick. I’m impressed.”

Peter chuckled, “Oh, please, your tongue was nothing to scoff at either.”

It really had been one of the best blow jobs of his life.

He leaned on his side, propping his head up with his hand, and gazed happily down at her, “I want to take you on a real date. Saturday night. To an actual restaurant.”

She hesitated. A shadowed sadness darkened her eyes which she quickly pushed away, “Okay. I think I can do that.”

Peter frowned, “Something wrong?”

She shook her head, leaning over to kiss him as a distraction, “Nope. When you leave, can you leave through one of the side doors? Don’t walk out the front of the apartment.”

That was his cue to leave, apparently. He chewed anxiously against his bottom lip. Maybe he was misreading whatever he thought was going on between them. Maybe she wanted a quick fuck and nothing more. Come to think of it, when they entered here, she had snuck them in the back door, too, making him walk a few feet behind her like they weren’t together.

Maybe she was in a relationship and cheating on her partner with him?

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” She offered, casually urging him to get out of the bed. “Text me. I stuck my contact in your phone earlier.”

Peter left feeling more confused and unsure than when he entered her place.

He lifted his phone as he walked through the streets, searching the contracts until he found her under ❤️Atomic Bomb Girl❤️, and he smiled down at it. A heart. Maybe he was overthinking things. Maybe her front door was just broken. He always went straight to assuming the worst.

Someone slammed into his shoulder, jostling him out of his thoughts, and he glanced behind him. A large, buff man glared back at him. He looked to be in his late fifties and was balding. His massive arms bulged under his tight fitting, worn down leather jacket. He reached out to clamp a hand down around Peter’s upper arm.

Peter frowned and tried to jerk away, “Dude, it was an accident, chill.”

“Did you fuck that girl up there?” That man asked, nodding his head back to her apartment building. There was a crazed desperation in his voice. “I saw you following her home. Did she spread her legs for you and whore herself out? Did you get a good look at that tight, little pussy? Tell me, what did it look like? You take any pictures? I’ll pay you for them.”

Peter jerked his arm out of the man’s grasp, scowling in disgust, “What the fuck? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I wasn’t following anyone. I was meeting a friend who lives there. Fuck off.”

The man leaned forward and inhaled his scent causing Peter to jump back.

“I can smell her on you,” he growled as his eyes rolled back into his head. “That’s her perfume. I know because I bought it for her. You were fucking her.”

That was enough.

Peter shoved the older man off of him and jogged around the corner, waiting until he was out of sight before throwing himself up onto her building roof, peering over the edge to keep an eye on him.

He was just pacing back and forth outside the apartment door, mumbling to himself and fidgeting with something in his pocket.

“Freak,” Peter muttered under his breath.

He pulled up her contact and sent her a text: Some crazy old dude just ambushed me outside your place. Asked about you. Maybe don’t go outside tonight. I think he’s not right in the head.

He saw three bubbles appear as she started to text back but then they disappeared again, leaving him hanging.

Peter shrugged it off. He stayed and kept watch until the man finally wandered off down the street.

The night before he was supposed to take her out on a date, Peter was laid over his bed in his Spider suit sans mask. His police scanner let out more static of nothing as he waited for something, anything, to happen. He was bored but it was too cold to hang around on a rooftop somewhere. He would stay in the warmth of his bedroom unless something exciting came his way. They had been texting back and forth nonstop for the last few days and calling each other every night to talk for hours. He liked it when she sent him pictures of things she was doing around her house during the day. She was adorable and he looked forward to whenever his phone would buzz.

As if on cue, it vibrated across the mattress next to him.

He lifted it up in a gloved hand to read the text. A frown settled over his face as he read it.

Atomic Bomb Girl: ha ha ha i win u lose dontever touch wat is mine again

Right as he was attempting to decipher what she was talking about, taking note of how drastic of a change of text from her usual ones it was, the police scanner lit to life.

“All available units to Linden Boulevard, Oak Ridge Apartments, floor three. Multiple calls of gunshots heard and one reported casualty of a security guard. Suspect is wearing dark clothes, caucasian older male, considered armed and dangerous. Approach with caution.”

His senses exploded in a panicked wave of tingles. That was her place. Her floor. The image of that strange man assaulting him on the street after he left came back to hit him like a ton of bricks. Peter looked back at his phone as the pieces fell into place.

Oh, fuck.

Quiet, controlled anger replaced the panic. His heart rate steadied as a calm chill fell over him. His jaw locked in determination. He reached for his mask, tugging it over his stone cold, deadly expression, and he leaped out of his open window.

Peter Parker no longer fucked around when it came to protecting the one’s he cared about. This was personal.

He arrived at the scene in record speed, landing directly on top of a black S.W.A.T truck as it pulled up. He rapped a fist down on the hood to get their attention.

“Feel free to sit this one out, boys!” He called down to them. “Spidey’s got you covered! I’ll be in and out in minutes. No need to worry. Focus on crowd control. I’ve got a date with a balding fucker. If all goes well, it’ll end up with a quickie in the back of a cop car, as I ride his ass straight to prison.”

Peter threw himself up onto her building, scaling to the third floor and around to find her window. He knew exactly where he would find his perp. His masked face popped up in her bedroom window. It was empty and quiet. He slammed his fist through the glass, slipping his hand inside to find the lock, and shoved it open wide enough for him to shimmy through.

From inside, he could hear muffled cries. Whimpers. They were different from the whimpers he had been able to elicit out of her the other night but he knew them all the same.

Silent as a shadow, Peter crept around the corner. With her hands tied behind her back, her shirt ripped open so her bare chest was on display, and thrown against the couch was his girl. The gun man stood above her. A pistol was aimed directly at her forehead. From this angle, he couldn’t quite make out what was going on, but it looked as if the man was masturbating over her. Trails of mascara ran down her cheeks and she let out muffled cries against the heavy amounts of duct tape blocking her mouth as she struggled to break free.

His anger flared but he tried to push it down to manable levels. He had learned over the years that getting too angry made him sloppy. He needed to control it. Work with it. Tame it into something he could use as a weapon instead of making it a weakness.

Peter crawled up her wall and onto her ceiling, prowling towards the man. Up here, he had a clear view. His dick was out and he was frantically jerking it as fast as he could at her breasts. Her eyes widened in fear but then flashed with hope when caught sight of Spider-Man crawling across her ceiling.

He hadn’t even done anything yet and he already felt pride. She felt a sense of safety around him…even if she didn’t know it was him behind the mask. It made him cocky. Made him want to show off.

When he was directly behind him, he silently lowered himself upside on a web until his face was hung directly behind the assailant.

“I’m actually surprised you can even get it up,” he quipped, keeping his voice light, despite the rage eating at his stomach. “I didn’t know something that small could get hard.”

The man whipped around, his dick flopping against his leg, as he sputtered in shock. His pistol went off, firing aimless at the wall behind Peter’s head.

Peter held up his hands in mock surrender as he jumped to his feet, “Whoa, there, tinycock! Don’t go blowing your load so soon! You’ll miss out on all the fun.”

There was no doubt this was the same man he had met outside the other day. His eyes were crazed with an unhinged, desperation that reeked of a man off his meds. Peter made sure to keep the man’s eyes on himself, holding his attention, instead of on her.

“What’s a sad sap like you doing out of the psych ward? Were you a good boy and managed to snag yourself a day pass?” Peter clasped his hands together like he was excited for him, voice dripping with sarcasm. “And you used it to visit your daughter? Aww, that’s so sweet. Wait a minute.” He pretended to just now notice the man’s cock hanging out of his pants. It had gone soft and shrunken up like a scared little mouse. “Is she…not your daughter? But you’re so old. And she’s so young. I guess I don’t see any resemblance. She’s really pretty and you’ve got-” He motioned a hand around the man’s face. “-all that. Something tells me that there’s more going on here. Wanna tell your pal Spidey all about it?”

The man was silent, blinking in a shocked awe at the masked hero, before finally snapping out of it. Spider-Man always excelled at talking his bad guys into circles with his stream of conscious babbling. The gun raised towards his head but, quicker than the man could even process, Peter had latched his hand around the barrel and crushed it in his grasp with the same ease as one might squish a can of soda after they finished drinking.

“Whoopies,” he joked. “Looks like your gun broke! I wouldn’t pull that trigger if I were you. It’ll explode right back into your face there. On second thought, maybe give it a go! It might improve what you’re working with!”

The man faltered, looking confused and baffled down at his crushed gun. He clearly wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. That was okay. Peter didn’t need him to be intelligent. He just needed him to be unarmed.

Which he now was.

Peter grabbed him by the scruff of the collar and turned him around to face her, “Do you see that girl there?” The man’s eyes glazed over as he stared down at her exposed breasts. Peter quickly threw a hand over the man’s eyes to block them, manhandling him around like he wasn’t twice his size. “I take that back. Don’t see that girl there. Use your imagination. Remember her face. You know that girl? Yeah, that girl. The one you tied up and assaulted? The one sitting in front of us, scared out of her mind and traumatized. I want you to remember her. Because if you ever, and I mean ever, even think about her again, if she ever crosses your pathetically shriveled up mind, if you ever say her fucking name, speak about her, think about, look in her direction, or ever come near her again…”

Peter dragged him over to the living room window where the slew of police were barricaded outside. He could hear the S.W.A.T crew moving up the stairwell now towards them and knew they only had a few more precious minutes of alone time. He shoved the man up to the window, raising his arm to force him to wave limply at all the cops down below.

His voice lowered to a dangerous growl. Any playful, sarcastic essence it once held in the presence of his girl disappeared so only the man could hear him.

“If you ever fucking touch her again,” he breathed. “I will toss you off of the Empire State Building and laugh through your entire fall down to your grizzly end.”

With his hand still clutching the man’s collar, he jerked him back and smashed his face directly through the glass window. He heard her muffled scream of shock behind him but he knew she would be alright.

A shard of glass stuck out of the man’s forehead, blood dripping down over his half closed eye, and Peter flicked it off down onto the street below.

“That was for trying to taunt me over text,” he whispered in the dazed man’s ear. “I don’t play nice with men like you. Want to see what it would feel like falling to your death? Here’s a little preview so you’ll be sure to know exactly what you’ll be in for if you ever even think about my woman again.”

Peter reeled back and tossed the man straight out of her window, head first, sending him down to the cops below. If he let his anger win, he would have never set a web straight after him, but she was watching and he didn’t want to be that person. She had gone through enough without having to see her Saturday night date murder a man in front of her.

The web latched onto his back at the final moments to break his fall. His legs may have crumpled against the ground…just a little bit…but he was alive. It was more than he deserved but the cops could deal with him now.

Peter spun around to look back at her. She was quietly sobbing, muffled by her gag, but held a look of relief on her face. She brought her teary eyes up to meet his, or where she thought they would under the mask, and gave him a short nod of thanks.

The S.W.A.T team was nearing her door. He could jump out the window and allow them to help her get free or…

She clung onto him, her head buried in his shoulder, as he soared them down the street and away from the commotion below. She cried softly. He wasn’t sure if it was from fear or the trauma or that fact that New York’s very own Spider-Man had just stolen her from her home but he kept a firm hold on her and kept whispering reassuring words in her ear.

Eventually, he landed them on top of his own apartment building, setting her down gently onto her bottom.

She gasped for breath, reaching up a hand to wipe the tears from her eyes, “I always…wondered…what it would be like…to fly…” Her chest was heaving between each gasping word. “Turns out, it’s terrifying. Still, thank you, Peter. For saving me.”

He shrugged, “It’s no problem. I was just doing my- hey, wait!”

She gave him a sneaky smile, still shivering and teary, but proud of herself for figuring it out.

“What?” She asked, innocently. “You think I wouldn’t know your voice? I’ve been listening to it for hours every night over the phone for the past few days.”

Peter reluctantly reached a hand up to pull off his mask, “You’re good.”

Despite having already guessed his secret identity, she still looked surprised to actually see him without the mask on. He squatted down in front of her to seem less intimidating.

“So that was your stalker, I take it?” He asked.

She nodded, giving a sad sigh, “The one and only. He’s a joy, isn’t he?”

He plopped onto his ass and crossed his legs, giving her a shrug, “I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again. I may have had some, ahem, choice words to encourage him to find new hobbies.”

She smiled again, blinking back her tears, “Thank you, Peter. Or, should I be calling you Spidey from now on?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, “Look, this is a big deal! You better not go running your mouth or else I’ll have to have some choice words with you, too.”

He liked hearing the sound of her laugh, especially after everything she just went though, and he knew she would be okay.

“I have a date with Spider-Man tomorrow,” she giggled. “How exciting.”

Peter chuckled, “The excitement wears off quickly, trust me.”

She scooted closer to bring her mascara streaked face inches from his, “Somehow I doubt that.”

#andrew garfield #the amazing spiderman #tasm #peter parker #tasm peter #tasm peter parker #tasm x reader #tasm fic #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter fic #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker fic #spiderman #spiderman fic

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corinthianism · 1 year ago

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corinthianism's fic recs

here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut

last updated: march 26, 2024

MARVEL

loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)

thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor

peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)

steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)

marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)

wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)

SHERLOCK (BBC)

sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero

SUPERNATURAL

sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut

dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics

castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)

THE SANDMAN

the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics

dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare

CRIMINAL MINDS

aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)

THE BOYS

soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies

homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch

GAME OF THRONES

jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)

STAR WARS

obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)

din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika

DRACULA (BBC)

count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier

LOTR/THE HOBBIT

thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)

DOCTOR SLEEP

dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg

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lostalioth · 6 months ago

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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

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iridescentparkers · 11 months ago

Text

lessons in sexting ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

warnings: very suggestive! (18+)

“PETER!” you exclaimed, and he dropped inside of your bedroom window. You lay on your shared bed where you once waited for him to arrive. He yanked off his mask and crawled between your legs, quickly placing his hand along your waist and head buried in your chest. “What’s wrong?”

“I can never go outside again,” he muffled, turning his face to the side as he remained on your chest.

“What are you talking about?”

He dug around in his pocket before grabbing his phone and scrolling to find a picture of himself. Lying down, his sight refused to meet yours as his head remained turned to the side, and he raised his phone to your face. “Read the text.”

The photo was quite…shameful. In the photo, the phone was angled downwards towards the bottom half of his thin, sweaty suit. Peter was unbelievably hard and gripping his erection above the material. The upper half of the photo showed Peter’s teeth gripping his mask, drippings of sweat falling down his face. Underneath it was a text that read, “Baby, I miss you <3”

“I didn’t get this text-”

“Look up,” he murmured, and you moved your eyes to see that he sent it to Harry. You couldn’t help but laugh, Peter then groaned into your body and placed his hands on his face.

“Is business rough these days? I didn’t realize Spiderman offered this kind of service.” You laughed, slamming his phone down on the bed.

“Please.” he began, “He hasn’t responded 'cause it's late but I know he will never let this die.”

“I don’t know if I will either!”

“I missed, you!” He exclaimed. “It was getting boring and hot in that suit.”

“If it helps,” you whispered, running your fingers through his unkempt hair. “You looked good.”

“Really good?” He murmured, moving his eyes up to your face before placing kisses on the top of your breasts.

“Mmm hmm,” you hummed, nodding as Peter moved to hover above your body, placing you beneath him as he kissed you deeply. “Really good.”

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earthtomia · 17 days ago

Text

fic recs!

(all fics are x reader; specific characters below the cut)

╰┈➤ all time favourites! <3

╰┈➤ smut recs! 18+ ONLY

please respect the writers and do not interact with any content marked 18+ if you are a minor, thank you!

challengers (2024):

➸ art donaldson

➸ patrick zweig

criminal minds:

➸ aaron hotchner

➸ spencer reid

house md:

➸ gregory house

➸ james wilson

➸ robert chase

marauders:

➸ james potter

➸ remus lupin

➸ sirius black

marvel:

➸ bucky barnes

➸ matt murdock

➸ mcu!peter parker

➸ tasm!peter parker

star wars:

➸ din djarin

➸ han solo

stranger things:

➸ eddie munson

➸ jonathan byers

➸ robin buckley

➸ steve harrington

supernatural:

➸ dean winchester

➸ sam winchester

miscellaneous characters:

➸ carmen berzatto (the bear)

➸ fox mulder (the x files)

➸ indiana jones

➸ joel miller (the last of us)

➸ lip gallagher (shameless)

➸ rafe cameron (outer banks)

➸ rodrick heffley (diary of a wimpy kid)

➸ thomas shelby (peaky blinders)

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moonstruckme · 9 days ago

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MAAAAEEEEE I was wondering if I could request a Peter Parker fic where he just kind of adopts shy!reader without her consent like “yeah we’re friends now, we spend time together and also we’re probably gonna fall in love and date but why don’t we just start with me walking you home from class” or some such nonsense. Also wondering if you could keep his spidey-powers; I love that little mutant freak

I hate you for doing this to me

Ugh our mutant freak <3 Thanks for the request babe!

tasm!Peter Parker x shy!reader ♡ 920 words

You’re never alone on the way home from class anymore. You’re not sure what changed at the start of the spring semester, if you just started putting out helpless-pedestrian energy or if it was something else, but soon after the start of classes your walks home from your night class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Friday began being accompanied by none other than Spider-Man. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, it’s Peter.

You and Peter have molecular biology together. On the first day of class, he rushed in just as your professor started lecturing. Every seat was full except the one next to you, and when you offered it to him silently with a nod of your head, Peter looked so relieved you’d think you handed him an A in the class. He’s been glommed onto your ever since; some days he asks you to stop for coffee after class, some days he offers to study with you in the library, and he always walks you home. You don’t know what you did to deserve the company, but you appreciate it.

“You ever been there?” Peter asks, nodding to a stand advertising New York City’s Best Vegan Hot-Dogs.

“No,” you say.

“Well, seems like we’ve gotta try them at some point. I mean, they’re the best in New York.”

A smile tugs at your lips. Peter’s always doing that. Making plans, saying we. It’s like the idea of you two hanging out beyond the end of your class is a foregone conclusion in his head. You haven’t been able to figure out if that’s just the way Peter talks or if he means it. You hope it’s the latter.

“You think so?”

“Oh, yeah,” Peter says with affected certainty. “I mean, why would you doubt the sign? Everyone knows you have to get things like that certified.”

You glance up at Peter, but one look into his smiling eyes is too much for you. You have to turn your face away. “I’m pretty sure there are three #1 Indian Restaurants in my neighborhood.”

“Oof. Must make for some brutal decisions when you’re craving Indian.”

Two weeks ago, you offered to buy Spider-Man dinner for walking you home. It was stupid—he can’t eat through the mask, which he told you kindly and which you could have figured out if you thought about it for more than a second before opening your mouth—but you were feeling guilty about stopping to pick up takeout and indebted for all the time he spends walking you home instead of preventing mob activity or whatever Spider-Man does. He professed, upon smelling your takeout, that Indian food is one of his favorites, too.

You haven’t told Peter about your vigilante escort. Spider-Man never comes to you while Peter’s around—presumably because you don’t need his help if you’ve already got a companion—and it’s the sort of ridiculous story you know will sound made up out loud. Why do you know that Spider-Man likes matar paneer? What makes you so special? They’re unanswerable questions, and you’d never be able to look at Peter again if he laughed at you.

“Hey.” Peter bumps your hip with his. You go stiff at the contact. “You okay?”

“Hm?” You look up, and he’s watching you with concern. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You seem a little quiet,” he says. And when your face heats, “Well, quieter than usual.”

“Sorry,” you say again, embarrassed. “I think I’m just tired.”

“Oh, yeah? Class was a long one, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“That makes sense.” Peter sounds disappointed. You blink at him in confusion, and he almost winces. “I don’t suppose…I mean, if you just want to get home I get that, but I was wondering if you wanted to grab food? With me?”

Your steps stutter. It’s not that you and Peter have never hung out before. Or even that all the time you’ve spent together centers wholly around class��there have been coffees, chats in the hallway, walks in the park near your university building—but it’s something about the way he asks, like it’s important this time, like it means something. You want for it to mean something.

“I could still grab food.” You’re not quite looking at him, fiddling with the contents of your jacket pocket. Popping the lid to your chapstick on and off.

“Yeah?” Peter asks hopefully.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

His voice softens, a smile in it. “Could you look at me, maybe?”

You glance up, regretting it instantly as always. Peter is resplendent. Dimples framing his smile like parenthesis, hair mussed by the wind that beats at you while crossing every street, he’s the sort of handsome that’s only just starting to figure out how handsome he is. You think you probably make it easier for him. To figure it out.

“Do you really want to,” he asks in a sincere tone, “or are you just appeasing me? If you’re tired I can take you straight to your place.”

Your heart thudders. If you have to look at him for much longer you worry you’ll melt into the cracks of the pavement. “I want to,” you say. “I’m sort of hungry, too.”

“Okay, awesome.” He sounds happy again. You think if you were lucky, that’d be the only thing you were put on Earth to do, make Peter happy. “Maybe we could try one of those Indian places near yours? See who’s really number one.”

“Sure.” You smile up at him, brain buzzing when Peter beams back.

“Sick! I could really go for some matar paneer.”

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alwaysmoncheri · 1 year ago

Note

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh whatev—hmph!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist

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

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

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 months ago

Text

mistletoe

a/n: thanks for helping me distract myself from everything that's happened these past few weeks ৎ୭

polls for the story: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

summary: while spending the holidays for the first time with your boyfriend’s family, you and his stepfather finally snap and a romance ensues.

warnings: boyfriend's stepdad!bucky barnes x reader x peter parker, smut, christmas stuff, major age gap (y/n is a uni student and bucky is in his 40-50's), college au, forbidden romance, cheating, established relationship, bucky has a tattoo sleeve instead of the metal arm, lawyer!bucky, dubcon, the classic "stuck under the bed" trope, clothed x naked, polyamory, threesome, kissing, dirty talk, public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, spit kink, masturbation, mutual masturbation, oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, bondage, blindfold, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 8687

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

masterlist | join my taglist

When you five minutes earlier had snatched up the spare key hidden in the flowerpot on the frosty front porch of your boyfriend’s house, the last thing you’d expected to happen next, once you’d tip-toed inside the vacant abode, was the unfortunate entanglement you found yourself in presently.

Trotting up to Peter’s room, not long passed after you’d set down your bag, your mind scrambling for the best spot to plant yourself in to pose perfectly for the surprise you were about to spring on him, that the phone in your palm tumbled out of your grasp and in the hectic flickering that crackled through your senses, your foot accidentally bumped against the device and sent it soaring under the bed that stood in the middle of the room.

Through the grumbles that swiftly flowed from your lips, you sank down to your knees on the hardwood and twisted your head downward to grant you the perspective needed to spot the still glowing screen in the dusty darkness.

Soon half of your body had disappeared beneath the bed as you stretched an arm up as high as your reach would let you, though as the tip of your tongue peaked out past your lips and you tried to squeeze yourself further into the dark, only a whisper of your touch managed to graze against the phone’s smooth edge.

However, when the bright idea hit you to try and find a long item to help you scoop it closer to you, a sharp sting of resistance met your scalp as you reeled to try and crawl back out.

“Fuck!” you hissed as your right hand soared up to the clump of hair at the crown of your head that had somehow gotten snagged on the underside of the bed frame.

As you continued to yank and tug without prevail, dread slowly began to settle within your being before a creak suddenly found your ears and washed away some of the flickering panic.

“Oh, thank god you’re here!” you squeaked from under the bed at the person in the doorway, presumably the guy whose bed you were trapped under, “baby, I–,” an airy giggle couldn’t help but seep out and filter through your sentence as you said, “this isn’t how it was supposed to go, I was gonna lay down on your bed or something, all dramatically, and surprise you, but now none of that matters because I’m stuck,” you laughed at your pitiful situation, your bottom barely covered in your short skirt as it wiggled up at him, “Peter, please, just help me out. I wanna kiss you, I haven’t seen you in two months.”

Though your boyfriend didn’t utter a word as the floorboard groaned beneath each of his steps, slowly crossing the room till you felt his presence behind you.

“It’s my hair,” you muttered, your hand still curled up by your head, “I don’t know if there’s like a nail or whatever’s going on under here, but it’s caught on something, and I can’t get it free.”

Gently, you felt his hand reach under the bed till it was gliding up the back of your neck. Slipping your fingers down to his, the skin felt much more rough and calloused than you remembered, though you swiftly shrugged that observation off as you guided his touch up to the imprisoned strand.

As he attempted to break you free, his body couldn’t help but slope down against yours in order to reach your hair, and as you unconsciously wiggled beneath him at every futile attempt, you felt a hardness begin to grow and press up against your ass.

A giggle couldn’t help but slip from your lips as you noticed, “aw, baby. I’ve missed you too,” you rolled your hips and offered him a purposeful grind, “you just gotta get me out of here and then I’ll let you do whatever you want to me… promise…”

But as soon as you’d intentionally rocked back against him, his grasp in your hair began to slacken and melt away till he let his touch travel down the slope of your spine, ghosting across your curves till his fingertips tickled along the bottom hem of your skirt.

His warmth then disappeared from your frame as he sat back further behind you. Ever since you left your dorm room this morning, an excited spot bloomed and decorated your panties in anticipation of your sinful schemes, though now, hours later, the soaked patch that adorned the cotton that poked out from under your skirt, completely visible to the man behind you, had grown to a nearly embarrassing declaration of your desperation.

Slowly and almost hesitantly, he let his touch ghost over your covered core, catching you off guard by the tickling gentleness that your boyfriend hadn’t had to initiate with for the longest time as you’d both grown too comfortable with each other not to simply be bold in your actions, but this felt as if he was touching you for the very first time, as if he thought you were made of the purest porcelain.

A heavy breath shuttered out of your frame as his light touch grazed over your covered core, slowly swiping up and down the drenched gusset. Eyes fluttering shut, you quietly joked, “you watch too much porn,” your words came out sounding hazy as the cliché fantasy got to you too, “if you really want to reenact this genre, then I’d much rather do the version with a washing machine and then just pretend that I’m stuck in there, that’s a much less dusty version, plus I wouldn’t actually be trapped.”

But as his tentative touch kept up, you couldn’t help but tilt back into it and feel yourself sink further into the ecstasy.

Soon his fingers hooked in the sliver of cotton as he tugged the gusset to the side, glistening strings of your want clinging to the fabric as he exposed your cunt to him, and as then his touch brushed over you without any barrier to dull the sensation, a breathy moan tumbled out of your lungs.

Lightly, he rolled your puffy pearl beneath the rough pads of his fingers, the slick sounds of your nectar sloshing and echoing throughout the bedroom as he tickled at your core.

And when his digits stopped resisting the tempting twitch of your entrance and they plugged it up so perfectly it made your toes curl, you soon found yourself moving even more desperately than his own efforts caressed you as you fucked yourself back onto his fingers in a rock so erratic that the movements ended up being your saving grace as your lock of hair pulled free.

A dizzy smile found your lips as you finally regained the ability to shift your head without an excruciating sting ripping at your scalp. Though just before you reached your peak, you twisted your head to glance back over your shoulder. Your eyes swiftly widened and your efforts ceased as the man whose fingers were making your drooling pussy sing wasn’t who you had assumed.

“O-oh fuck!” you quickly scrambled out from under the bed and jolted away out of pure shock as you came face to face with your boyfriend’s stepdad, “Mr Barnes!”

But just as his lips hesitantly parted in a reply, the front door downstairs slammed and caused you to shoot up to your feet, Bucky rising as well. With your chest heaving in your hazy periphery, you could barely think before your palms began to shove at the older man’s broad frame, till he crossed the threshold of the bedroom and his feet began to carry him the rest of the way down the hall till you watched from the doorway as he disappeared into a different room.

And with the soft click of that door closing behind him, the creaking on the grand staircase suddenly ceased and your eyes snapped over to find Peter frozen at the top step.

“Oh my god, babe!” he exclaimed, a wide grin swiftly warming up his features, “what are you doing here?” his feet shuffled towards you before his arms enclosed around your form, “why aren’t you at school? I thought you had exams till next Friday.”

Still in shock as you felt your pussy leak down your thighs, “I managed to get done early,” you tried to mirror your boyfriend’s smile as he pulled back to look at you, “surprise!”

When you last year had found yourself a little internship at the most prestigious law firm in town, it hadn’t come as a surprise to you just how many of the middle-aged men working there shamelessly flirted with you as you brought them their coffees. However, what you hadn’t expected in the slightest was Mr Barnes.

Though his attempts were much more subtle than the rest, they in no way had the same effect on you as they didn’t make you squirm as the others did, but instead every time you tip-toed past his corner office and he so much as offered you a glance, you felt yourself spiral into a blushing mess and morphed into nothing short of a flustered schoolgirl.

Numerous scorching trays of coffee were nearly dropped, sentences embarrassingly stumbled through, as well as many other minor casualties in the carnage created when the lawyer would flash you a rare smile.

But when December rolled around, and you found yourself at the annual holiday party, you should have looked up when you sauntered up to him to wish him a merry Christmas, as the dried twig of mistletoe above was swiftly made more than apparent to the both of you as every inebriated colleague surrounding you both grew rowdy, pressuring you till your lips met one another.

The kiss may have begun as forced and hesitant, but soon it morphed into something much stronger than anything they served at the open bar, causing you both to forget your own names as the buzzing party from around you melted away till it was just the two of you in the office. As the heated kiss broke and you remained incredibly close, blinking back at one another, a heavenly curve found your lips as he gazed down upon you as if he was mere moments away from tossing you over his shoulder and hauling you into his office to have his way with you, not caring one bit about the lack of privacy the fronted glass provided.

But just as your heart swelled in your chest, rumbles in the crowd swiftly broke it into a million tiny little pieces.

“Oh damn! Interns, they’re trouble. Just don’t tell your wife, Barnes! I know you’re new to that whole concept, what–, has it already been a whole month since the wedding?”

“Yeah, here’s a lesson for you,” a different man shouted through his laugh, “what happens at the office, stays at the office! Not really a good idea to take the fun and games back home to the missus.”

You almost quit a whole month before the opportunity was supposed to come to an end but couldn’t, as the mere thought of not seeing his face every day any longer somehow shattered your heart even further.

But one day, as you felt yourself drowning in the torture, Peter, a guy close to your own age showed up in the lobby, waiting for someone he knew at the firm. As his wait drew out and the minutes neared an hour, every ounce of his attention remained glued upon you. In an effort to mend your own heart, you decided that flirting back with him wasn’t the worst method to test out. However, it wasn’t till you began to move on and you actually fell for the sweet guy from the lobby that your world came crumbling down around you.

The first time that Peter had invited you back to his home, as soon as you walked through the door, the truth of the relation between your newly minted boyfriend and the man, who at that time hadn’t been your boss any longer for a few weeks, was instead tossed in your face like a bucket of ice water.

Mr Barnes turned out to be the rich asshole Peter’s mom had fallen for earlier that year, the one he often couldn’t hold his own tongue to grumble about as he hadn’t yet warmed up to the new father figure in his life.

And that was how you got stuck in the bittersweet reality you now lived in. There was no way you could end things with Peter as he was the most wonderful boyfriend you’d ever had and whom you’d genuinely grown to love. But that wasn’t the only reason why you couldn’t do it, since if you were to let him go, then you would also have to let go of Mr Barnes, even if he was just a harrowing haunting of a hopeless dream.

The house was completely silent as every soul within it slumbered, everyone except for you as plain beige wrapping paper crackled gently beneath the silk bow you tightened over it. You’d slipped into an office, that stood on the opposite side of the upstairs to where the cluster of bedrooms were, to secretly wrap up the handful of gifts you’d hidden at the very bottom of the bag you’d brought with you.

Though just as you sliced a pair of scissors through the paper to cut off a piece for the last present, a small bump suddenly echoed throughout the dark home.

Getting up from your makeshift workstation on the floor, you peeked out into the dim hallway. Your slow steps caused the floorboards to groan as you took a look around, even casting a glance down the staircase to the entryway that bloomed below, before the noise found your ears once more, snapping your attention to somewhere deeper down one of the shadowy corridors.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you crept closer to the latch you now noticed was open. Ladder unfurled, the abyss of the attic loomed above you and sent a shiver down your spine.

But then as a broad figure suddenly appeared in the opening, you couldn’t help but let out a shuttering yelp, even after you’d recognised the man whom your sudden shriek startled.

“Mr Barnes!” your palm soared up to your pounding heart, “I thought you were a ghost or a burglar or something! What in the world are you doing up there?”

Ascending the ladder, you noticed the heavy box he balanced in his arms, “I was just getting some decorations for the tree,” he huffed as you caught your breath, reminding you of the still bare pine tree that stood down in the living room.

“Right, I forgot that’s the plan for tomorrow,” you murmured as you spun around on your heel. Though as you entered the office once more, a glance over your shoulder led you to discover his shadow, “what are you doing?” you asked in a small voice as he followed you into the room.

“This is my study,” he tilted his head as if that was common knowledge.

“Oh,” you breathed, “I didn’t know,” and glanced down at the gifts you’d left on the floor, “sorry, I’ll go somewhere else.”

But just as you bent down to gather up your supplies, his deep voice crackled from behind you, “no need, make yourself at home,” he sat down the box before rummaging through it, taking out a few of the delicate ornaments before only tangles of twinkle lights were visible in the container, “I’ll only be a second.”

Kneeling down beside the electrical socket closet to the door, he then began to check all of the lights, one by one, making sure none of the tiny bulbs were dead.

And as you returned your hazy attention to the last of your remaining gifts, Mr Barnes then once again filled the silent office with his low tone, “…look, I–…” he hesitantly started, keeping his ocean stare glued to the ground, “you deserve an apology,” he exhaled heavily, “I don’t know what came over me earlier. It was wrong, completely inappropriate, and I can’t believe I let it happen.”

Blinking up at him as he refused to lift his gaze, a quiet, “oh…” shuttered out past your lips as his apology only broke your heart further. It, of course, hadn’t been ideal the way that he’d taken advantage of the unfortunate situation he’d found you in, but that doesn’t mean it hadn’t been a dream come true for you, complicated as it may have been.

“Kiddo,” he sighed, “I understand completely if you don’t wanna spend Christmas here anymore. You just say the word, and I’ll make the arrangements for you to go back home.”

“Is that what you want?” you heard yourself utter, “for me to go?”

Finally meeting your gaze, a crinkle found his dark brows, “…what I want can only cause harm…”

As you lost yourself in the ocean of his blue eyes, you whispered almost dreamily, “…do you still remember?” you felt your lips tingle at the memory as you slowly rose back up to your feet, “because up till today I had convinced myself that you were too drunk that night to recall…”

Shifting his gaze, Bucky then let out an exhale, “kid…” the single syllable carrying a gentle whisp of warning.

“Or is it just normal for you to kiss interns under the mistletoe,” you couldn’t help but go on, “especially like that?”

“No,” he finally murmured as his head found a slow rock from side to side, “it isn’t,” though swiftly met your stare to caution, “and I’d hold my tongue if I were you before you say something that you shouldn’t.”

“Like what?” you breathed, “the truth?”

“Stop,” he squeezed his eyes shut as his head faintly shook, “you’re my stepson’s girlfriend.”

“That’s true…” you averted your gaze to where your fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, “but he wasn’t the one that I fell for first… the one that I still can’t seem to get over…”

Your eyes then found one another for a split moment, locking with each other for a single breath before Bucky’s feet began to shift and he crossed the room. Catching your face in his wide palms, he then crashed his lips against your own.

Your heels instinctively levitated off the ground, lifting you up closer to his towering height as he kissed you like he’d just come home from some mystical war.

A sigh softly seeped out of your nose and tickled the grey that speckled his beard as you felt his starved tongue silkily sweep against your own.

But just as the intoxicating taste of him weakened your knees, he tilted his chin and cut the kiss short. Blinking up at him as he kept your jaw in his grasp, you breathed, “Mr Barnes–”

“What the fuck am I doing–,” a faint whisper seeped through his sigh, “I’m going to hell for this…”

“So then stop,” the sound of your small voice beckoned his gaze to find your own, “if you don’t want me the way that I want you,” your fingers tangled in his tie, “just stop and go back to bed with your wife…”

“…I didn’t–…” he hesitantly began, “I didn’t expect to meet someone like you, especially not right after I’d gotten married,” his eyes stayed locked with your own, “I thought I’d finally figured it all out, and then there you were, all fresh-faced, sticking out like a sore thumb among all the suits…” the corner of his lips briefly twitched into a faint smile at the memory, “you turned my world upside down,” his fingers on the side of your face flexed gently as he uttered that declaration, “after you stopped working there, I–… I damn near almost quit myself… but then Peter brought back his new girl, and seeing you again, even if it was just a glimpse every once and a while, it was like I could breathe again.”

Blinking up at him, dizzy from his honied words, your fingers tangled in his tie, then tightened, and you tugged him far enough down for your lips to lock once again.

Swiftly, his feet began to absentmindedly shuffle till your hips bumped into the edge of the polished desk that stood in the middle of the office. The bundle of forgotten Christmas lights were still glowing on the floor by the ajar door as your boyfriend’s stepfather let his broad hands scoop down over your body and pluck you up to sit on the table.

It was the hold that you still had around the silky accessory knotted around his neck that caused him to slot in between your parted thighs, just a little tug was all it took for your knees to be needily grazing against his sides. Pulling on the tie, your lips didn’t stray from one another’s for but a moment as you undid the knot, let the fabric slip out from under his collar and tumble down onto the floor below.

Though when his smouldering touches finally came to ignite against the softness of your tits through your sweater, a whimper tumbled out of your lungs and melted against his tongue, only narrowly getting muffled by his kiss as the sound threatened to fill up the entire room.

“Shh,” he barely withdrew to hush, only tilted his head to catch a different angle before he dove back into your sweetness.

“Sorry,” your murmur swiftly got swallowed by his pecks.

But when his hands continued to rake across your form, making you feel like a flicking star that shot across the night sky, as his grip came down to dent your ass, it wasn’t just a soft whine that crawled up your throat, but a full on moan, as the manner he’d squeezed your curve had sent a tingling bolt straight to your throbbing clit.

“You gotta be quiet.”

“Shit,” you cursed as you heard it yourself, “sorry, sorry.”

This time you truly did try to keep your mouth shut, consciously biting your tongue as his burning hands nearly singed the clothes from your frame, but when his palm eventually snuck up the short hem of your skirt and slipped off the soaked panties that clung to your core, the sound that forced its way out of your body when his touch finally grazed through your dripping folds echoed into the night.

And as soon as the moan tumbled off your lips, Bucky’s hand rapidly vanished from between your quaking thighs as he took a large step back.

“You’re killing me here,” he groaned as he reached the opposite side of the room to plant his inked palm against the open door, shutting it as he leaned his weight into it, “you’ll wake up the whole house,” the fingers still clutching your underwear caught the lock and flicked it to the side.

“I’m sorry,” you dug your nails into the polished wood you were balanced on, “I swear I’m trying to be quiet, I really am.”

“Well, not good enough,” he glanced back over his shoulder at where you sat before his vision flickered down to land upon the ribbon only half tied around the last of the presents you’d wrapped. His expression then softened as he slowly picked his stride up once more, “…but, I think I might be able to help…” on his way to where you were seated, he bent down to snatch up the loose strand still not fastened around the wrapped box, and when he stood before you once again, Bucky’s gaze fluttered to your mouth as he then uttered, “open up,” before you parted your lips for him. Your eyes swiftly grew as he first fed you the cotton of your panties before he wrapped the emerald silk ribbon around the stuffed opening and tied it off at the back of your head, “there,” he purred as he pulled on the small bow at the nape of your neck, “that’ll shut you up. Now where were we? Right! It was somewhere around here,” his word was emphasised by his touch as it slipped back up under your skirt, though this time when the broad pads of his fingers slipped through your glistening petals, your purrs were completely muffled against the makeshift gag.

As his touch tickled at your core and caused your legs to quiver at either side of him, his face stayed close to your own, nose denting your hot cheek as his breath fanned against your skin. He even stayed that close as he began to strip you of your clothing, tossing it all to the floor till you were sitting before him wearing nothing but the bow he’d tied himself to keep you quiet.

Though as you shifted to mirror his actions, he stopped you just as you caught onto the zipper of his pants.

“Na-ah-ah, kid,” he backed up just enough for the palpable tent in his trousers to disappear from your palm’s reach, “keep your hands to yourself. Be good, and then you’ll get your present.”

However, his whispered warning didn’t sink into your senses enough as barely any time passed before you stopped fighting the urge to touch him again.

“What,” his chuckle washed over you as he captured your gaze, “don’t tell me you need to be tied up too?”

That notion sent a shiver down your spine before a smile poked out behind your gag as you playfully shrugged, your apparent approval causing Bucky’s light laugh to reappear in a second wave.

Spinning around, the older man before you then grabbed the cord of glowing lights on the floor before stringing it along to where you were planted. First, he wrapped the vibrant strand of tiny bulbs around your wrists, tying them together in front of your body, before he tangled the remainder of the length around your torso, over your arms and all the way down to your waist.

As he took a step back to admire his handiwork, that’s when he finally freed his dick, letting it spring forth from his pants as his stare licked up your bound visage. The strokes he swiftly offered himself were long and slow, making you press your thighs together as you watched, a yearnful whine vibrating against the cotton stuffing up your mouth.

“Aw, do you want my cock?” he mocked as your constricted fingers instinctively tried to reach out for him. Closing the gap between you once again, with one hand, he scooped you closer to both the edge as well as the throbbing girth heavy in his palm, “you want this dick, huh?” he smirked before brushing the bulbous head through the drooling mess between your thighs.

Your eyes fluttered as he nuzzled his hardness against your buzzing clit, though he somehow kept your stare captured in the intenseness of his own as he dragged the tip through your petals, making them part for him. It seemed like ages that he went between teasing your leaky entrance to sweeping up and flicking at your puffy pearl, though gradually each time he’d near your little hole, crying out for him to sink into, he dipped inside just a tiny bit, each time granting you more of his length till his heavy balls were nuzzled against your slick skin.

His lips pressed against your cheek, kissing it softly as his girth split you open. A slick symphony echoed throughout the room each time his hips slammed against your own, and as your own cries were hushed, it was only the sinful sound of that, as well as Mr Barnes’ heavy breath and the occasional suppressed groans, that filled the office and lulled you into nothing short of a trance.

With Bucky’s left hand that he had weaved into a clutch at the twinkle lights tangled at your front, the colourful glow illuminated the dark tattoos that marked up the back of it and caught your hazy gaze as he then tipped you over and layed you back down against the desk, his ruthless rhythm never faulting for a second.

And as you layed there before him, the both of you creeping ever near to that inevitable end, you watched as his eyes drifted down your frame. From where the string of lights squished against the softness of your boobs, to where he spread your thighs apart further, letting him spot just how perfectly his fat girth sank into you, till finally settling on the dull bulge just above your glistening pussy. The imprint of his daunting size rocking within you, illuminated just sufficiently enough by the string of glimmering lights for his eyes to spot, bloomed a bright grin on his features and caused his hips to snap, feverously slamming his cock so deep inside of you that the tightly wound coil within you had no other choice but just to let go in a burst of vibrant hues.

Once his length was throbbing inside of you and pumping you full of his cum, breathlessly he removed the gag, though barely let you fill your lungs with air before he locked his lips against your own, both of your smiles blurring the kiss with giggles as you made out sweetly.

As Peter’s figure appeared behind you in the doorway to the little bathroom that shot off his room, his frame abrupted the bright morning light that streamed in through the window.

Still only clad in a borrowed shirt, the hem rose up as you bent down over the sink to spit out the toothpaste foaming in your mouth, but just as you did, a quiet click revealed your boyfriend’s presence behind you.

Peeking over your shoulder, you spotted the Polaroid camera, that you’d remembered to bring from your dorm room, firm in his grasp.

“What are you doing?” you muttered as you rinsed off your toothbrush.

“Just growing my collection,” he smiled, leaning against the doorframe as he wafted the small photo the camera had spit out.

“Hey, I brought that for capturing memories,” you snatched it back as you passed him, “not using all the film for nudes,” before bending down and stuffing it back into your bag.

The lump of guilt that ached in your chest nearly persuaded you to spill everything to Peter long before you both got dressed and descended the stairs.

Should you even tell him what had happened and hope for the best or had you just backed yourself into a corner so impossible that you had no other choice but to break things off with him? If that truly was so, then you couldn’t do it yet, not now, at least wait until January if that was the only option.

Though as soon as you both entered the kitchen, the visage of Bucky fiddling with the coffee machine caused the unbearable knot to slowly melt away the longer that you gazed at him.

“Hi Honey,” Peter’s mother came sauntering in from the dining room and flashed her son a smile before diving into a drawer for some cutlery on her mission to set up the breakfast table, “did you two sleep well last night?”

“Yeah, I was out like a light,” your boyfriend uttered before his glance flickered to you, “this one however didn’t come to bed till really late.”

“Oh, did you have trouble falling asleep?” his mom found your eye.

“Uhm, no,” your glance momentarily flickered to the broad back before the coffee machine, “I just–, uh, I was wrapping presents. Hope it’s okay that I borrowed some paper and stuff.”

“Of course,” she smiled, “if you want a caffeine boost, there’s a fresh pot of coffee,” and nodded in the direction of her husband, “and the mugs are up there.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I’m actually more of a tea drinker.”

“Well, we have some of that as well,” she tilted her head before crossing into the dining room once again, “take a look in the pantry.”

Slipping down the narrow path between the central kitchen island and the line of counters, your body brushed against Bucky’s as you passed before crossing into the small storage room. Though as your gaze scanned the stocked shelves before you, a crinkle found your brow.

“Wait, where is it?” your quiet voice seeped out of the pantry.

“Up over the shelf where the cans are,” Peter tried to guide you before his stepfather shot him a glance.

“I’ll help,” he murmured, “she’s probably too short to reach it anyway.”

You didn’t even have to peek over your shoulder to find out he was there as just the warmth of his presence radiating off of him was enough to cause your eyes to flutter closed and your lungs to be filled with a deep breath. Though when he pressed his wide frame against your spine, his low exhale seeping into your soul, a dull throb between your thighs bloomed as an underlying beat to his palms he then let glide over your waist before one shot up to tilt your chin and he craned his neck to plant a kiss to your lips.

“Did you find it?” Peter’s voice from on the other side of the thin wall caused you to fumble away from his stepdad, nearly knocking over half the contents on one of the shelves at the jolt.

“Yep! Yeah!” you squeaked, scrambling before Bucky reached above you, plucked a small box off a shelf, and placed the random tea in your fumbling hands, “I’ve–, uhm, yeah!” before you shuffled back out into the kitchen, “water, water…” you murmured as your eyes scanned the space.

“Over there,” your boyfriend nodded to the electric kettle in the corner before he carried the stack of plates in his hands into the dining room.

And as you boiled the water and brewed the tea, every chance Mr Barnes got to follow his heart, he grasped with both of his fists. If the others had momentarily stepped out of the room, or even if they’d just turned to face away, there he was at your side, suddenly much closer than what was appropriate for a parental figure of one’s partner to be. If he had the time, his touch would sneak down to tickle you over your clothes, or occasionally his lips would even find your neck and make you too dizzy to even care how risky his behaviour was.

It even continued long after you’d joined the rest at the dining table as the last two seats remaining were slotted right next to one another, though this time, now that he had the table as a cover, the cocky bastard let his hand grow even more daring than before.

When his touch teasingly travelled up your thigh before boldly darting straight to his goal and making you nearly choke on your herbal tea as he pressed down on the seam of your jeans, rubbing your throbbing clit through the rough fabric.

“Are you alright?” Peter’s mother cut off what she’d been blabbering about as you almost spit out the hot beverage.

“Mhm,” you hastily nodded, attempting to keep a straight face as Bucky’s inked fingers kept up their bullying between your thighs, “just burned my tongue,” the mug met the table in a soft thunk, “I’m fine,” you breathed shakily and kept your gaze glued to the piece of toast on the plate before you.

“Oh, well, blow on it next time,” she said before returning to the topic the secrets beneath the breakfast table had interrupted, “so, what do we think,” she sank her fork into a piece of orange, “should we head off to the Christmas market today or do that a different day?”

The scent of warm spices wafted through the air from the cluster of booths, selling every scrumptious festive treat imaginable, right next to the windy entrance to a pen where children could ride some sturdy ponies from a local farm.

“What if we all split up for a while?” Peter’s mother suggested as you all eyed the handcrafted goods displayed by the many snow-dusted stalls, “I know I may or may not have already spotted a few things I wanna buy in secret.”

“Good idea,” your boyfriend nodded as he let go of your mitten-clad hand, “should we meet back here in, what–, half an hour?” he gestured up to the grand Christmas tree, glowing in the centre of the market.

“Sure,” Bucky’s voice rumbled, “then we can grab a bite afterwards.”

His stolen touches hadn’t become less bold after you’d left the house. From purposefully letting his palm graze against your boob when he’d helped you reach for your seatbelt in the car, to the numerous times at the market he’d yanked you around the corner of a rustic booth to steal a kiss.

“You know,” Bucky’s voice suddenly tickled the shell of your ear as he found you standing before the line of small children, all waiting for a chance to meet the market’s Santa, “when I get you alone,” he whispered as your eyes lingered on the elderly man in the distance, all clad in red, “you can sit down on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas…”

“Oh yeah?” the corners of your lips tipped up into a smile, “will you also ask me if I’ve been naughty or nice?”

“Well, I already know the answer to that,” he chuckled before twisting you around to face him.

The gentle giggle that billowed out from your lungs was swiftly silenced as the older man bent down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Wait,” you suddenly pushed him back as the exposed nature of where you stood sank in, “not here,” and your eyes swiftly darted around the crowd in hopes that they wouldn’t land on anyone you knew, “someone might see.”

Snatching up his hand, you then tugged him with you as you crossed over the small square. Passing by a small ice-skating rink, your snow-crunching steps eventually led you into the maze-like wonder that was the Christmas tree lot.

Soon, the make-out that blossomed between the dense pines snowballed into you on your knees, on the cold and needle-covered ground, with Bucky’s girth twitching in your grasp as you tilted your head to plant a sloppy trail of pecks down his heavy balls.

If he hadn’t riled you up all morning, then you probably wouldn’t have desperately kneeled down before him in the middle of a crowded space, just because he’d made your brain melt so fiercely that your mouth itched to be used. That or perhaps you would still have found your way here on your own if he hadn’t given you a push, after all, it had been you who had simply told him to be on lookout before you snatched off one mitten, sank down in front of him and, without any further warning, freed his fat cock.

As you let go of his sack with a pop, before you could crane back up to swallow his length, Bucky briefly bent down to steal a sloppy kiss before letting you get back to it, though when he broke the peck, a string of saliva keeping you connected a moment as he straightened back up, a soft frown tainted your features as you blinked up at him.

“You stole all my spit,” you pouted as his lavish tongue had managed to lick up most of the gathered slickness you’d wished to glisten up his dick with.

“Sorry,” a soft chuckle rumbled within his broad chest as he bowed down to grasp your chin. Prying your lips apart, he then let a dollop of his own saliva drop down and land upon your silky tongue.

A gentle smile tugged at your lips as they wrapped around his thick girth. Marvelling up at him as you found a playful pace, he only granted himself a rare peek between his neck twisting from side to side, vigilantly keeping an eye out as you sucked him off.

“Fuck,” he groaned as your drool gurgled up your bobbing. Lips ever parted, his fingers sneaked down to tangle themselves in your hair, “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” he slowly brought your head back till only the tip stayed warm within your mouth, “though knowing you, you probably wouldn’t even pause if someone actually did wander this way,” a short hiss of pleasure flowed out of his lungs as your tongue silkily traced the bulbous head, “even if it was your little boyfriend, you’d probably just yank down his fly so you could choke on his cock as well…”

Squinting up at the dried orange slices strung up and decorating the living room window, you let out a contemplating hum before it morphed into an idea, “we could watch a movie?”

“Ah,” Peter exhaled next to you on the couch, “I don’t know… what if we went for a walk? It just stopped snowing.”

“No, I don’t really have the energy left for that,” you shrugged, “plus it’ll be dark soon… I kinda just wanna take it easy the rest of today and eat as many of those cookies your mom’s baking while they’re still hot.”

Glancing over his shoulder at the doorway leading into the kitchen, Peter then nodded, “alright, sure. We could put on some music or something.”

“Uh!” an idea then stuck you and lit up your gaze, “and we could play a board game, or even better, do a jigsaw puzzle! Do you think you have one?” your body tilted a bit closer, “you have one, right?”

“I think we have more than one,” he cocked his head and got up from the couch, “how hard do you want it?”

“Pretty hard, but also not like impossible,” you breathed, “it would be nice if we finished it before the new year.”

“Alright, I’ll go find one,” his feet began to drag across the hardwood floor, “you go gather provisions. I think I just heard the timer in the kitchen go off.”

A gasp swiftly flowed out of you as you rushed to rise to your feet, “cookies!” before you darted along, leaving Peter to a soft chuckle as he went out into the entryway and popped open the large closet.

Though as he slipped inside and shifted to switch on the lightbulb dangling above, near the top shelf that carried all of the games, his elbow collided with a few of the coats on the row of hangings off to the side, unfortunately knocking some of them to the ground. Among the casualties were both yours as well as Bucky’s, though when the jackets came tumbling down, a few items also came pouring out of the pockets.

Glancing down at the polaroids at his feet, even though the backsides were staring up at him, Peter still assumed that they’d fallen out of your pocket. Plucking them up into his grasp, a smirk swiftly curved his lips as he flipped over the short stack to reveal the familiar visage of your nude form. And the deeper into the small pile he got, the more explicit they became.

But when he reached one that captured you lying on your stomach and with your lips wrapped around a cock, the smile swiftly faded from his features as he caught sight of the hand that reached down from behind the camera to stroke your hair. His hand certainly didn’t have either a wedding ring nor a chillingly familiar tattooed pattern scrawled upon the skin.

And as he shuffled the deck to reveal the last photo, his suspicions were confirmed as he was confronted with the visage of his stepfather railing you against the sink in the upstairs bathroom. The camera was in his one hand as he held your hazy gaze in the mirror, while the other one curved around to capture your tit, the soft peak decorated in droplets as you stuck out your tongue and let your drool drip down.

And though confusion, rage and jealousy were the cocktail of emotions to first take over his body, the palpable tent in his jeans beckoned for his attention too and convinced him to take care of it, blindly pumping his dick till his load coated the photos in his palm.

“Fuck…” he hissed as his stare stayed glued to the cum covered pictures, “…I guess I’ll need to have a little talk with my stepdad…”

“The whole house all to ourselves… however shall we pass the time?”

Your giggle bounced off the kitchen tile as you hopped up to sit upon one of the counters, only moments after both Peter and his mother had driven off to do some last-minute holiday shopping.

Leaning back against the kitchen island, Bucky crossed his arms over his burly chest and smiled, “I have a feeling that we’ll think of something to do.”

And that was how you ended up moaning on either sides of the kitchen.

Though he only loosened his tie, popped open the first few buttons of his shirt and undid his belt to free his cock, you tore off everything except for the red lingerie your clothes unwrapped for him to see and led him to beg for the sheer mesh to stay clinging on your skin while you let your fingertips dip into the waistband.

But before either of you could finish, the older man snatched you off the counter and hauled you into the living room.

And as you both stood there, his arms around you keeping your dizzy form upright as he kissed you feverishly, his head then tilted back, a blooming smirk on his lips, before he uttered, “I have an idea…”

The idea in question involved his silky tie being secured over your eyes, a proposal you of course jumped at to outlive.

Though as you stood there, one of your senses dulled as Bucky’s touch fluttered across your form, the smattering of pecks and caresses had you floating away to some far-off realm. In the blissful fog of it all, you lost track of his touch and swore on occasion that it didn’t add up, as sporadic kisses were planted in places not plausible from where you thought he stood, or his wide hands even seemed as if they weren’t just one pair.

And as you tried to connect the dots, your fingers fluttered up to push the makeshift blindfold up to your forehead, and the visage that met your eyes promptly caused them to grow wide.

“Peter!” you gasped as you came face to face with not only Bucky, but also your boyfriend, “I–, I–”

“Hey babe,” he simply breathed as both his own and his stepfather’s touch faded from your half-naked form.

“Peter,” your heart hammered in your chest as tears began to blur your vision, “I am so so sorry. I–, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh yeah? So you’re not sneaking around with my stepdad behind my back?” he kept your gaze captured in his, “baby, it’s–,” a sigh broke up his sentence, “I was about to say that it’s alright, but–,” a dry chuckle then bubbled out of his throat as it obviously wasn’t okay, before he then shook his head and got to the point, “we had a little chat, Bucky and I.”

“…you did?” you finally shifted your glance and let it flicker to Mr Barnes.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “we came up with a little arrangement so that we’d all get what we want.”

“So now all you gotta do is just tell the truth,” Peter’s fingers floated up to tug a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “did you just use me to get to him? Was anything about our relationship real?” he asked in a soft and sombre tone.

“It was, it is,” you swore as you raised up your own palm to graze over his that still lingers by your jaw, “I may have lied to you about certain things, but my feelings for you were never one of them.”

“Okay…” your boyfriend’s head slowly began to rock in a nod. As he let you lace your fingers in with his own, another question left his lips, “so, do you think that heart of yours is big enough for the both of us?”

Your vision then widened before it shifted between both of the men standing before you, “…are you suggesting–”

“Only if you want to,” Bucky tilted his head and awaited your answer.

“I–,” you gasped as a grin slowly grew upon your lips, “oh my god!” and an uncontrollable laughter bubbled out of you.

“Is that a yes?” Peter asked, his hand still in yours.

“Yes! Yes, of course, it is!” you beamed before throwing your arms around him and crashing your lips against his own, only moments before you shifted to mirror the action with the older man still by your other side.

And as the kiss you pressed to Bucky’s lips stretched and drew out, it suddenly broke when he abruptly tossed you down to lay across the plush couch behind you. As he slotted in between your parted thighs and clutched the red mesh to the side in order to finally grant himself some of the sugar you’d teased him with moments before, your head sloped over the armrest before Peter appeared above you and bent down to claim your lips in a kiss to muffle the whine that flowed from them just as his stepdad stretched your open.

Momentarily, Bucky plucked your hips up off the couch and drove them to meet his own, fucking you like a toy, before he let you drop back down and joined you on the sofa.

And as the older man between your thighs spread them wider and granted himself the perfect view of how his staggering girth disappeared in your fluttering pussy, your boyfriend above you slid a hand under your head and tilted it closer to the length throbbing in his fist.

Tapping his cock against your moan, it didn’t take long before he was buried in your mouth, each greedy thrust bringing him further down your throat till the imprint of his cock bulged in your neck.

“That’s impressive,” Bucky commented on the way the younger man fucked your face, “why haven’t you shown me that party trick yet?” he hummed as Peter roughly yanked his dick back out and granted you the chance to catch your breath.

Seizing the moment, Bucky flipped you around before your mouth could be filled once again, tossing you onto your knees and letting your forearms crash to the armrest, your head nearly falling face-first into Peter’s lap, lending him to catch you as he flashed the man behind you a grin, “you know that she does anal too, right?”

A low groan then flowed from Bucky’s lungs as he let his broad thumb sweep across your little rosebud, “does she now…”

“Yep,” Peter grunted proudly, “she might even let us fuck both of her pretty holes at once if we’re real nice. She’s let me do that before with toys.”

“Of course she has,” Bucky chuckled lowly as he eased his fat cock back inside, “what do you say, kid? It is Christmas after all, I think we deserve something special.”

“I–, uhm,” you tried your best to answer him through the ecstasy they tossed you into, “sure.”

“Attagirl,” Bucky croaked as his heavy balls tapped messily against your puffy pearl, “do you wanna pick who gets what honour?”

But before you could squeak out an answer, Peter instead uttered, “or we could make it a game, let you try and guess,” as his touch travelled up to tug at the blindfold still resting atop your brow.

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sincericida · 2 years ago

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I need peter parker angst fics I need soul r

Wrenching ones I can cry too cause therapy is too expensive to pay for so I've come to the master to ask for suggestions

You want fics of angst, pain and despair, my darling? Well, I have here suggestions from some of the best writers of the genre right here:

"The Thinks We Never Talk About" by @privateanxieties

It is, where “Peter shows up at the last minute and goes feral” by @mrshipsmcgee

"Hopeful" by @stresslessbaaby

The "Sugar And Vice" fic, by @liz-allyn

"Car Accident": part 1 and part 2 by @blooming-violets

"Only Love Could Hurt Like This" by @stylesparker

"The First Fall Of Snow" by @godlessandwrecked

"Labyrinth" by @corinthianism

"The Way I Loved You" and "Secret Ingredient" by @ficthots

"Honest" by @starsval

"Dancing On My Own": read first "the vision of the reader" and then "the vision of Peter", by @blooming-violets

"Hold my body tight even on my lowest nights; {p.p.}" by @venus616

"In a Corner I Haunt (Right Where You Left Me)" by @reidslovely

The "Heat Of The Moment" fic, by @liz-allyn

"CONNECTING ARTS" by @slytherheign

"Ties that bind" by @liz-allyn

The "Masterlist" of @rancidpancakebatter

The "Devil You Know" fic (read first) and the "Inner Demons" fic, both of @liz-allyn

"Florence" (masterlist) by @periprose

"I Would Wait Up Forever" by @novazhere

"A Moment In Time" by @andy-solo1

"Wander Streets at Night, Fighting Just to Breathe" by @prismatica-the-strange

"A wound like no other" by @privateanxieties

I hope you like my suggestions, and prepare your Kleenexs. 🥲

These are some. In case I forgot some that I don’t know and haven’t read yet - there's definitely, please, put them down here. It’s never too much to spread the word about Tumblr writers. 😚

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blooming-violets · 1 year ago

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Nicest Thing Peter x Reader for 11. In joy? I really like that fic. I reblogged it on my old account. I feel like thats an underrated fic of yours (maybe bc it came out in 2022? Idk). Would love to see what happened to them!

It's still one my favs because it is just so...me?? Like if I had to chose anything that represented my personality perfectly, it would be Nicest Thing. Just a depressed, sad bitch who loves angst and Peter Parker and enjoys Kate Nash. I feel like I need another Kate Nash song for this "sequel" fic. I'll base it off her song Trash because these two are trash for each other.

You can read this as a separate, on its own Peter x Reader thing if you'd like or you can read it as a future piece to Nicest Thing.

Warnings: Smoking a joint and getting stoned

If porn bots can over take all the tags then I better not get flagged for these gifs.

Peter looked at her through blazed out, squinting eyes. A haze of smoke filled their bathroom as they passed the joint back and forth between them. They were seated in the unfilled tub, fully clothed, and facing each other. She had made him take the spot next to the faucet under the claims that sitting over the drain made her feel “icky” like she might get sucked in. He didn’t mind. Even if their leaky faucet kept dripping cold water over his shoulder.

“Do you remember the Rugrats episode when Tommy and Chuckie are afraid of getting sucked down the bathtub drain because Angelica tells them a story of some other baby who died that way?” He asked, handing her off the joint.

She placed it between her lips and he watched with a slow blinking, admiration for her. He loved her. She had been with him through everything. He owed his entire life to her. Without her in his life, he would no longer be here. She was everything important in the world.

She smiled, remembering, and let out the most beautiful laugh. She always got extra giggly when they smoked. It was one of his favorite sounds.

“Don’t they fill the drain with play-doh and shit? It’s a weird reddish, pink color. Why do I remember that specific color so much?” She replied, mystified.

Peter chuckled, “Because old school Rugrats was filled with some crazy ass imagery. It sticks in your mind.”

“Yeah but I remember thinking that I specifically wanted to eat that color...like maybe it would taste nice…like the imaginary food from Hook.” She passed it back to him, letting the smoke exhale in a little, circular puffs from between her lips.

“Do you want to get into a pretend food fight with me and see if anything appears?” He grinned.

Her red rimmed eyes squinted back at him as she laughed, “With the way these munchies have been hitting me the past few minutes, I think it might actually happen. I could imagine food hard enough to make it show up.”

His mind started to wander as a hungry smile spread across his face, imagining all the food he could eat, and he spoke with a dreamy whisper, “Pizza bagels.”

“What?”

“Let’s make pizza bagels. ‘M hungry. Starvin’. Gonna die if I don’t get some food in me.”

Her eyes glowed with excitement at the idea, “Pizza bagels. Yes, you’re a genius!”

“I know,” he giggled, it bubbled out of him without any self control. It wasn’t the weed that did it. It was her. He felt free when he was with her. He flicked out the joint against the ashtray balancing on the edge of the tub. “I really am. Smartest man alive, probably.”

She snorted, “Okay, I wouldn’t go that far. Get your ego in check, Parker, before I have to slap some sense back into you.”

He beamed at her, his love consumed him, feeling it outshine every other emotion rattling around inside of him. She was beautiful. Stunning. Picture perfect. He wanted to hang her up on his wall like an expensive piece of art so he could admire every day of his life.

Her shoulders shrunk up to her ears under the intensity of his gaze.

“Stop that,” she whispered. “Don’t look at me with those eyes or I’ll kick you. I’ve got a perfect aim for your crotch in this position.”

Peter shook his head, “Nope, sorry, I refuse. I can’t help it. You look…perfect. The nicest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“You’re stoned.”

“Yes. Doesn’t change the fact that your lips look very enticing.” He winked at her and tried to scoot forward to get a taste.

Her socked foot landed against his chest, pushing him back in place, “I thought we were making pizza bagels, not kissing. Weren’t you just starving a minute ago?”

“Starving for you, maybe.”

“Peter!” She let out a loud laugh, keeping him at bay with her outstretched leg.

He was so in love. Completely enamored. Whipped. Head over heels. Trash for her. Whatever he wanted to call it. He belonged to her so wholly. His bleeding heart was in her hand for the rest of his life. He would follow her to the ends of the earth and back again.

“If you don’t let me kiss you right this very second, I am going to turn this shower on.” His hand reached over his shoulder to grip onto the shower knob with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

She gave a sharp inhale, “You wouldn’t dare.”

His eyebrows raised, taking on that challenge, “Oh really?”

She knew she fucked up the second before the shower burst to life. From his position in the tub, it shot over his head to spray directly into her face. She shrieked and fell back, sliding down the sloped edge of the tub until she was nearly on her back.

It was all the opportunity he needed to pounce. He leapt on top of her to the sound of her laughter and blocked the shower stream from her face with his back. His arms wrapped protectively around her head as he laid over her. Water pooled around them, warming their bodies, and soaking through their clothes.

They didn’t feel it.

All he could feel was the devoted love burning a hole in his chest where his heart used to be.

She giggled up at him, blinking water droplets from her eyes, and whispered, “You’re an ass.”

He laughed in response and crashed his lips over hers, mumbling against them, “You love me.”

She sighed in content. Her arms snaked around his neck to draw him closer, melting happily into his kiss.

“I do.”

#i will take every opportunity to stick this man in a tub or shower #andrew garfield #tasm #tasm x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter #tasm peter x reader #tasm fic #tasm peter fic #tasm peter parker fic

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lomlkenji · 8 months ago

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༊*·˚ pretty boy | peter parker

main masterlist

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

he is just so so very pretty.

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

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

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

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

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

wow. okay he didn't expect that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

his home.

reblog for a kiss <3

#⋆⋅☆ hana’s writing!#i don't know if i wanted to go with nervous peter or confident peter so i kinda combined the two <3 #i just wanna make out with him dude #is that too much to ask for?#peter parker x you #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfic #peter parker oneshot #peter parker blurb #tasm fic #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm fanfiction

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elixirfromthestars · 6 months ago

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Kiss It All Better

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (established relationship)

Summary: Your boyfriend Peter hasn't contacted you in days, but one stormy night in a dark alley would change that.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warning(s): none really / fluff / sprinkles of angst / if you squint you could maybe see some hurt + comfort

requested by anonymous

a/n: Another bingo request down!! I promise I am doing my best to get through these. As always I appreciate everyone's patience and support!! ❤️ Thank you for reading!! Feedback is always appreciated!! ❤️❤️

birthday bingo masterlist ♡ // main masterlist ♡

A flash of white light illuminates the narrow alleyway you are walking through. A loud rumble follows, practically shaking the concrete beneath your feet. The storm would start any second now and you would most likely get caught in it if you didn’t make it home soon. Your pace quickens as you begin to make haste.

Getting caught in the rain would only worsen your mood.

Your footsteps echo and bounce off the alley walls. The wet concrete smell mingles with something sour making your nose scrunch up. You hold the strap of your bag tight against your chest, a small comfort in the night. The dark clouds in the sky hide the moon from your view, causing only a few street lights to vaguely cascade their glow onto your path. The shadows cling to the brick walls around you making your surroundings more ominous than they really were.

This was a bad idea. You know this—anyone would know this—it was common sense. You shouldn’t be walking down a New York alleyway alone at midnight. However, you had little to no choice with no cabs in sight and no rideshare vehicles available. You’d have to make the journey on foot if you wanted to make it home before the storm worsened.

Your apartment was only a few blocks away from your job, and you already had an established route you took back and forth. It was a longer route—more scenic—and on nicer days you enjoyed strolling along it accompanied by your favorite tunes. However, on nights like this when the sky decides to descend a tempest upon the earth—you prefer to take a risk with this shortcut.

A few droplets falling on your head turn into streaks and then a pour—catching you off guard. You didn’t think the ferocity of the water would pick up so quickly. You hurried over to take refuge underneath the slight coverage of the fire escapes lining the brick wall to your right. The cold metal frame above did little to shield you as droplets fell from it onto your head. Nevertheless, this would have to do until you could determine your next move.

You could run the rest of the way home and hope you didn’t slip in the rain—or you could give the rain a few minutes to die down and then run—the idea of waiting brought an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You dreaded having to be out here longer than you needed to be.

Would it really be safer to run though?

As much as you didn’t want to wait you decided it would be better than falling face-first into a grimy puddle. You shifted on your feet, the soles of your shoes squeaking against the pavement, your body shivering as the water soaked through your thin jacket. Each second seemingly stretches out endlessly as you watch the rain crash and splatter against the ground.

You took out your phone to check the weather app. Your hand resting perpendicular to your forehead as a makeshift shield to protect your phone from the rain. Droplets still fell on your phone anyway and with the way the water clung to your hair and eyelashes—your vision was more than obstructed.

So much so that you didn’t notice when a shadow loomed over you.

“Hey beautiful,” a voice directly next to your left spoke, startling you. A gasp left your lips as fast as your heart sped up. You jump back from the source of the voice, creating as much distance as you can without slipping into the full force of the storm. You turn to see who it belongs to, your phone tightly gripped in your hand.

When your eyes met the white ones on the red mask, your body immediately relaxed from its frozen state. A breath of relief escaping you that sounded more like a choked laugh.

“Baby, I swear I didn’t mean to scare you!” Peter sounded apologetic while laughing all the same at your reaction. He was hanging upside down by a thick string of web when he lowered down to be at eye level with you. Small streams of water cascade down his superhero suit, pooling at your feet.

You scoff still a little shaken, “You thought sneaking up on me wasn’t going to scare me?” You put your phone back in the pocket of your jacket, hand on your hip as you try to follow your boyfriend’s logic.

You can’t see Peter’s face, but you know him well enough to know the awkward boyish grin he must be dawning under that mask. “Well…I didn’t think it would scare you that much…” his tone was sheepish and yet just as you assumed, you could see the outline of his smile through the mask.

You look at him shaking your head, playfully rolling your eyes. Whatever annoyance you felt melted away at his presence. Your heart now beating at its normal rhythm. However, his presence also reminded you of his absence this week. Peter hadn’t contacted you in days, and while you were doing your best to be understanding, it still hurt.

“Nice of you to drop by. Haven’t spoken to you in like,” you count the days on your hand to emphasize the number,“five days. Seems you forgot all about me,” you cross your arms, a resentful look overtaking your features.

Peter scratches the back of his neck, stumbling over his words. He almost loses balance, his left hand quickly returning to where it was before, holding onto the web with both hands. You frown, unsure as to why he needs both hands to keep steady. Worry overcomes you when the thought of him being in a fight before he caught you here crosses your mind.

“About that. . . I’m really sorry, Y/n. I promise I didn’t mean to disappear like that without warning. The city’s been hectic all week! Criminals are popping up left and right and I’ve been tracking down this mobster ring—it’s been too much to handle. I couldn’t keep up. And I–” he stops himself to get a good look at you, “I’ve missed you so much,” Peter finishes off his remorseful rambling with a sincere statement.

He has missed you. More than you’ll ever know. He’s barely eaten, slept, or cared for himself. Neglecting his own needs to make sure the city was safe. Because to him as long as the city was safe so were you—and that meant the world to him. Yet, in keeping his attention on the city he lost sight of where he wanted to be the most—with you.

The sentiment was mutual. While the city needed Spiderman, you needed Peter.

Even though he does his best to hide it, you pick up the tiredness in his voice. The way even upside down you can see how his shoulders sag, his overall posture droopy. You notice the way he slowly sways where he hangs, not making much effort to stay in place. You assume he’s done little to take care of himself these past few days. That combined with potentially getting into some sort of tussle moments before arriving—it’s no wonder he struggled earlier to keep his balance with one arm.

Your gaze softens, stepping closer to him, the rain long forgotten. “ I get it, Peter. I do. I’ve missed you too. You know I’ll never hold being Spiderman against you, but you need to talk to me. Keep me in the loop. Let me know you're okay. I was upset you hadn’t contacted me, but more than anything I was worried. I was afraid something had happened to you,” you say your voice laced with concern. In his absence, you constantly checked news channels to make sure no one had reported Spiderman getting severely injured or worse.

You avoided all week thinking about the worst-case scenarios.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I promise never to do it again. I know I have to get better at communicating. I just don’t like worrying you. All week I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I was on my way to your place when I saw you here in the rain. You really shouldn’t be walking alone at this hour,” Peter’s tone goes from repentant to firm by the end. Hating the thought of you putting yourself in a risky situation.

You gave him a look as if to say now is not the time to be scolding me. He sighs, reluctantly conceding in hopes of bringing this conversation up at a later time. Right now he wants to do anything to make it up to you. Anything that could sweeten up his apology.

“I know I messed up, but I think I know something that could make this all better,” he says an idea popping into his head.

“What?”

“How about a kiss?”

You laugh softly at his suggestion, not being able to stay mad at him for long.“I think that could help. Although, I’ve never kissed someone while they were upside down before,” you mention with amusement. Tilting your head to look at him sideways. You wonder how he’s able to stay like that for so long without getting dizzy.

“Well now’s your chance, baby. I’ll need a little help with the mask though,” he says as you close the distance between you. You happily oblige his request, lowering the mask off of his face. A fond smile appears on your face when your eyes meet his brown ones. The warmth and color inviting you in like a hot cup of coffee—a solace you sought in the cold rain. They pull you in until your lips meet his, your hands holding his face gently.

You both melt into the kiss. Rain droplets joining in, but neither of you mind. In this moment it's solely you two and the feelings for one another catching up after days of longing. How either of you could have gone so long without this—without each other—neither of you knew.

Maybe five days isn’t long for others, but because Peter risks his life on a daily basis, every moment spent with him means the world to you.

You pull away to catch your breath, “I think that definitely helped,” you say softly. Peter beams at you, swinging his body so that in a swift motion he’s gone from his upside-down position to upright—standing before you. He reaches out and pulls you into a tight embrace. Holding you close and planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I love you so much. I promise to fully make it up to you,” he says in a loving tone. You shake your head lightly, “Peter, having you here is enough. You really don’t have to–” he doesn’t let you finish. “Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to. Let’s get you home and into some dry clothes. I’m staying with you tonight. I want to hold you all night and in the morning I’ll make you breakfast in bed,” he proposes in soft whispers as his forehead rests against yours.

“You know I can’t say no to that.”

“Good. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer anyway.”

Your laughter mixes with his own at his playful tone. He holds you more securely against him as he prepares to take you both back to your apartment. You weren’t keen on swinging across the sky like he was—especially in this weather—but knowing you would soon be cuddled under warm covers with him would make it all worth it.

You would weather any storm for him, as he would for you—always.

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #the amazing spider man #peter parker #peter parker oneshot

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