#tasm peter x plus size reader

[bitchyycapricorn]

Brooklyn Bridge

Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist Word Count: 1.3k Synopsis: Peter faces one problem constantly: Aunt May knocking on the door at the absolute worst times. Fed up, Peter decides to simply show you off to the public.

Quote: “Good God, look at you you’re doing such a good job.” Warnings: Smut, public sex, praise kink, usage of slut, language, P in V AN: Obviously with my highlighted quote TikTok has reminded me how much of a praise kink I have. Not edited.

“Oh fuck babe, I’ve missed you so much,” You groan as Peter thrusts into you. Your whole body is on fire at the feeling of Peters lips leaving small kisses on the side of your neck as he pounds into you mercilessly.

“God, “Y/N, you feel so fucking good.” Peter groans as his hand wanders up and down your side, taking in every inch of your body. Peter continues to plant small kiss along your jawline before stopping abruptly at the sound of a knock on his door.

“Peter?” May calls from the other side of the door. “Peter open the door!” Peter groans as he pulls out of you, leaving your body aching for his touch.

“You have to get in the closet,” Peter whispers harshly under his breath, “quick grab your cloths.” You find yourself stumbling out of his bed, scrambling while you pick your discarded cloths up from the ground before making a beeline to Peter’s closet. Even though you now couldn’t see Peter, you could hear him fumbling around while trying to get his cloths on before unlocking the door for May.

“Why do you always keep that door locked Peter?” May stammers as Peter shifts uncomfortably.

“I was trying to get to bed.” He replies slowly, “also I like the privacy.” He admits sheepishly.

May stares up at him for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Yes, alright, well I’m going to bed. I came to tell you goodnight and if you need me make sure it’s an emergency.” Peter nods before giving May a hug and sending her on her way, making sure to tell her goodnight as well.

Peter shut the door, letting out a small groan before or opening up the closet to reveal a disheveled Y/N. You let a smile spread across your lips as you stumble out of Peter’s messy closet. “Well then,” you hum, “Is the mood ruined or…”

“Ruined? What do you think?” Peter mumbles. “Everyone in the world wants to watch us have sex I swear. Constantly needing us, constantly knocking on the door. Might as well just have public sex at this point so people can ask questions without any barriers.”

You let out a small laugh, running your fingers up Peter’s arm. “Public sex huh? Well, maybe let’s keep it tame and go ahead and finish in your bed since May is now asleep.” You suggest, trying to pull Peter with you.

“No.” Peter replies, a smirk forming on his previously solemn face. “Get dressed, we’re going out.”

“Going out? It’s almost 11 at night…” You hesitate as you slip on your pajama shorts and tank top, followed by your jacket.

“Don’t you trust me love?” Peter asks sweetly causing your stomach to erupt with butterflies.

“Of course I trust you,”

+++

“I do NOT trust you!” You shriek as Peter lands on top of the main upper platform on the Brooklyn Bridge. You look down at the cars zooming by below you, feeling your heart drop. “Why the hell are we on the Brooklyn bridge?” You cry, clinging onto Peters warm body.

“Since everyone wants to watch us have sex so bad, thought I’d give them a show.” Peter declares.

“You-You what?” You stammer feeling your cheeks heat up as you stare into your boyfriends masked eyes.

“Hold on to the rail baby,” Peter encourages as he flips you around so your frontside is pressed against the metal railing and you’re staring down at the cars and water below.

“P-peter,” You stutter feeling his cold hand slowly snaking between your spread thighs in order to push your shorts and underwear to the side. His fingers dance across your bare cunt, spreading your wetness in the process.

“Look at my pretty girl, all bent over for me like a little slut.” Peter purrs “Such a good girl aren’t you.” You could now feel his finger slowly entering you, dipping deep into your soaking core.

“Fu-fuck Peter, what if someone sees?” You sputter as your walls close around his slender finger.

His mask brushes against your ear as he whispers “That’s why we’re up her baby, so everyone can watch me fuck you like a slut.” You let out a gasp as his digits thrust in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. “Mmm you like that don’t you?”

You let out a small moan in response, squeezing the railing as his fingers speed up. “Oh god Peter I’m close,” you cry at the feeling of his thumb now toying with your clit.

“Are you now?” Peter hums, smacking your ass as his fingers continue to violently thrust in and out of your heat. “Well then, if you’re so close, cum for me baby. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.” He praises.

Throwing your head back onto his shoulder you allow your body to let go, convulsing as your orgasm washes over your whole body.

“Good girl,” Peter groans, slowly pulling his soaking fingers out of you. Your hands continue to squeeze the railing while you desperately try and catch your breath. Behind you you could hear Peter unzipping his jeans, shuffling as he removes his hard dick from its restraints. “Ready pretty girl?” Peter grunts as he lines himself up behind you. You nod, forgetting about the cars below you entirely.

Peter helps to bend you over slightly more, before grabbing yours hips and sliding into you with ease. “Oh fuck,” Peter moans as he bottoms out. “You feel so fucking good baby.” Peter slowly pulls out of you before pushing back in repeatedly. Your legs began to shake as Peter speeds up his movement, pushing deeper into you each time.

Small moans and cries escape your lips as you’re thrusted against the metal railing repeatedly. “Peter fuck” you cry. “God, oh, Peter.” Your whimpers fill the air as Peter drills into you without mercy, enjoying the feeling of your clenched cunt squeezing his throbbing cock.

“Good god, look at you you’re doing such a good job.” Peter praises, hands gripping your ass roughly. Your legs were shaking as Peter hammers into you from behind. Each thrust feeling deeper than the last, pushing you closer to your second orgasm. “Such a pretty little slut. Taking my cock so good in front of everyone.” Peters voice and hands felt hypnotic. The way he’s roughly grabbing your hips as he guides your body up and down his thick cock with every thrust.

“Peter-“ you moan, never wanting Peter to stop. “K-keep going please,” you whine.

Peter lets out a grunt, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. Your body capturing his attention as it knocks against the railing the deeper he pushes into you. “Shit-“ Peter mutters as his orgasm begins to creep up even more. “I’m close.”

You let out another string of moans knowing you’re close as well. You feel as one of Peters hands snakes around your front side, slowly rubbing your clit and adding to the pleasure. Throwing your head back you can feel your muscles begging to contract as a wave of adrenaline and pleasure washes over you. “Fuck Peter,” you groan as you finish around his cock.

Letting out a loud moan Peter releases inside of you, overwhelmed by the feeling of you squeezing around him as you ride out the last of your own orgasm.

Peter slowly pulls out and you can feel the hot cum slowly running down your bare thighs. Your body still shaking from the events just moments ago.

“You alright baby?” Peter whispers as his arms wrap around your disheveled figure. Planting soft kisses to your shoulder as he rubs your upper arms.

“I’m good, that was, that was amazing,” you reply, leaning back into his warm body.

“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it as much as I did. Now let’s get you home and cleaned up hm?” He hums, turning you around so you’re facing him. You nod, allowing Peter to embrace you once more.

You look around at your surroundings for a moment, admiring the beauty of the city from so high up. “Hey Peter,” you whisper, “how many people do you think recorded us?”

Peter let out a small laugh before realizing you were right. “Oh fu-“

+++

TAGLIST @noakrootje

[maxxieluvs]

I AM SICK AND FUCKING TIRED OF ONLY SEEING SMUT WHEN I WANT TO READ FOR A PLUS SIZE READER I WANNA SEE THE SAME FLUFFY ROMANCY SHIT I SEE FOR SKINNY PETITE BITCHES

[moonstruckme]

hey queen! i am humbly requesting some tasm!peter x plus sized!reader 🛐

maybe he was coming home from patrolling/being out as spidey and saw something in a window that reminded him of reader? like a knickknack or flowers or something like that? and he comes home and gives it to her and she’s all flustered and smitten 🤭

feel free to add your own spin to it or anything! i’m just in need of fluff and hugs from my boy 🫶🏻

Thanks for requesting lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x plus size!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Peter knows he’s got other things he should be doing. He’s technically not done with the amount of time he likes to spend patrolling every day (plus there’s a serial burglar out there he should really be trying to catch), and if he’s not doing that he should be getting home to work on the research paper he’s got due tomorrow, and if he’s doing neither of those things Aunt May’s been begging him all week to dust the shelves she can’t reach. But when you open your door and he sees the look on your face, Peter knows he made the right decision neglecting all that shit. 

“Hi!” Your voice lilts through the syllable, happiness coating it like honey. 

“Hey,” Peter says back, immediately losing whatever advantage he had in the conversation. You’re surprised to see him, sure, but he’s surprised to see you like this. You’re still in your pajamas, evidently enjoying a day in, a large t-shirt and draw-string shorts that make you look all lazy and adorable and leave the delicate flesh of your thighs on display. Peter wants to bite them, but that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly. 

“Hey,” he says again, blinking to clear the haze from his brain. “I, uh, you said you like irises, right?” 

“Yeah…” There’s a hesitant sort of question in your voice. You eye the small bunch of flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?” 

Peter grins. “Who else, sweetheart?” He tacks on the endearment mostly to see you fluster. It’s a success; your arms come up to hug your torso as your cheeks dimple, smile half-suppressed. 

He passes you the flowers before he can fluster too. The plastic wrap crinkles under your careful touch, and you glance between him and them like you can’t decide which to admire first. 

“Thank you so much,” you say. “Did we…have something today?” 

“No,” he laughs, hooking his thumb in the strap of his backpack. “No, you’re good. I was just in the neighborhood, and they made me think of you.” 

Your eyes go all pretty-pleased at the comment, but you tilt your head curiously. “What do you have to do around here?” 

Ah, the question he’d hoped you’d be too happy to ask. The truth is, Peter’s almost never in this neighborhood if not for you. Spiderman gets around, but there’s not usually as much going on here as in the rest of the city. He’d spotted the flowers at a stand he’d webbed a catcaller to on the lower east side, and then came over to your end of town to bring them to you. It was only, like, a ten minute swing. Much more efficient than the subway. 

“Thrifting,” he says slowly. “I was, uh, just looking to update my closet a bit, and I know you’ve got a lot of good thrift stores around here.” 

“Nice.” You smile, taking a little sniff of your irises. Their bright color makes your already exquisite face look even lovelier, and it’s such a perfect image Peter wishes he had his camera on him. “Can I see your finds?” 

“No,” he replies. Too quickly, so he tries to look really put out to compensate for it. “No, I didn’t find anything. I’m…really picky about my clothes.” 

“Oh.” Your eyes drop to his plain gray t-shirt and jeans, but thankfully you’re too nice to say anything. 

“Right,” Peter blazes ahead, tugging on the straps of his backpack, “so I just wanted to bring you those, and I’ve actually got shelves to dust, so I’d better go…” 

“Okay, thanks for the flowers,” you say. “They’re really pretty.” 

“Yeah, I figured it must be hard being so pretty all by yourself,” he says, spinning around to walk backwards so he can see your reaction, “so I figured I’d get you a companion.” 

You press your lips together, flushing and tilting your head downwards as if to hide it. “Thanks,” you almost whisper. Peter grins hugely. 

You look up just as he’s turning back around, your focus narrowing on something behind him. 

“Hold on a second.” Peter halts opediently, and you come outside, that t-shirt fluttering prettily around your hips. “Something’s falling out of your bag…” 

He thinks to be nervous just before you pull the red and blue mask from the unzipped pocket of his backpack. 

“What’s this?” 

“That…” Peter’s nodding but he doesn’t know why. It’s some sort of automatic response, like he turns into a bobblehead under pressure. His mouth is void of saliva. “That’s a costume.” 

Your eyebrows twitch together as one side of your mouth kicks up, like you’re not sure what to make of him. “You dress up as Spider-Man?” 

The nodding turns to shaking weirdly seamlessly. “No! No, of course not, I’m an adult. It’s—it’s not for me.” You look at him expectantly. “I’m making it…for my nephew.” 

“Oh.” You blink. “I didn’t know you had a nephew.” 

“Really?” Peter hears his voice pitching higher, but he’s powerless to stop it. “I didn’t mention him? We’re pretty close—well, not that close. He lives…away. In Connecticut. But he wants a Spider-Man costume, and obviously he wants me to make it, because…I’m the guy for that stuff.” 

You nod respectfully. “You are really good at sewing,” you say, and the look you’re giving him is so sweet it nearly takes his knees out from under him. “It’s nice of you to do that for him. You’re really thoughtful, Peter.” 

You say it all soft and considerate, like it’s a secret you’re letting him in on, and Peter’s honestly worried for his heart health. He’s not sure it can take the strain of all this. 

“Yeah, well, only for people I care about,” he says just as quietly. 

You drop your gaze, smiling to yourself, and start tucking the mask back inside his backpack. “Your nephew must be a cool kid. I’d love to meet him sometime.” 

“Yeah, maybe if he comes to town sometime.” Which will be, you know, never. But hopefully by the time it gets suspicious you’ll know enough that he can come clean with you about that. 

He hears the zipper close and turns before you can move away. Peter wants desperately to wrap his arms around you, feel the softness of your body pressed up against his, but he settles for taking your hand. At the look on your face when he smiles and gives it a squeeze, you would’ve died at the alternative. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

Your lips part. “No problem,” you breathe. 

He gives your hand one more press for good measure, letting his fingers drag across yours as he steps away. “See you Friday, yeah? For dinner?” 

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “I’ll see you then.” 

Peter shoots you one last grin over his shoulder, headed down the sidewalk. “Looking forward to it.” 

[afrogirl3005]

Tasm! Spider-man x Fem! Plus sized reader Hc’s

Pic by me (Afrogirl3000)

When He takes you swinging through the city for the first time, you were definitely scared because you worried if he was strong enough to carry you through the city.

But don’t worry girl he could do that and so much more 😏

Like one day your both at home he’s watching the news on his latest fight with the random villain that just had to make themselves known to small parts of new york city, while in your shared bedroom you stare at yourself in the mirror looking over your stretch-marks asking yourself why and just generally making yourself feel bad ( you shouldn’t girl your beautiful)

“ Oh babe you gotta come see this I can believe they caught me kickin-,” He stops in the middle of his sentence in the doorway to see you staring yourself down in the mirror.At first all he sees is how beautiful you are but then sees your sad face and realizes what’s wrong.

Sneaking up behind  you wrapping his arms around your waist leaving soft kisses along your neck “ What’s wrong babe?” He questioned with sincerity

You wouldn’t give him a straight answer so he had to take matters into his own hands “let’s take a swing shall we?” already gearing up for the adventure ahead.

Your apprehensive but he doesn't care.

You're scared of stone cold on your first swing but after a bit you settle down and enjoy your ride through New York city.

And after y'all get home well let's just say he spares no time in making you feel like the most special girl in the world (if you know what I mean 😏😏😏)

The next morning you awake to a lovely breakfast in bed.

"I love you so much Y/N

(I’m so sorry y’all Ik this is so cheesy but I’m finally getting back into writing so yay, luv y’all for reading)

[zombiiegrr]

ok ok soooooo if I wrote some yandere reader x yandere character (secretly ofc) but it’s gonna be dark… NOT LIKE ANGST but dark (murder, stalking a bit of toxic relationship stuff sorry I mean it’s a yandere fic) if I was up to writing this what character would u guys want.

the reader will get pregnant ISTG ITLL HELP WITH THE STORY (I’ll write one wheres she’s not if you guys want)

I currently have a obsession with Bucky. ,(that will be written idc), WANDA WOULD FIT THAT, Peter Parker, Steve Rogers and outside of marvel maybe tangerine (bullet train) 

IDC JUST PUT UR FAV CHARACTERS I WANNA WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THIS SO BAD

[underoosweb]

I miss writing, requests are open for anyone on my masterlist

kiss prompts

dialogue

"can i kiss you?"

"are you sure about this?"

"close your eyes"

"wanna practise?"

"i really, really want to kiss you right now"

"i think i deserve a kiss"

"if you win, i'll kiss you"

"kiss me again"

"are you wearing chapstick?"

"shut up" (affectionately)

"you'll have to teach me"

"was that okay?"

"woah.."

"you're gonna get lipstick all over me"

"i think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me"

"just follow my lead"

"one more kiss? please?"

"can we do that again?"

actions / scenarios

hand kisses

neck kisses

cheek kisses

stomach kisses

forehead kisses

thigh kisses

trailing kisses down your lovers body

arms wrapped around your lovers neck

light pecks

smiling while kissing

lifting your lover up

kisses meant to distract

kissing for a dare

goodmorning kisses

goodnight kisses

hello kisses

goodbye kisses

kitchen counter makeouts

kisses while cuddling

soft kisses becoming heated

heated kisses becoming soft

kisses to keep your lover quiet during sex

kisses while sitting in your lovers lap

kisses under mistletoe

leaving love bites on your lover

pulling away to look at eachother, eyes full of love

whispering in-between kisses

lifting up your lover while kissing

messy half asleep kisses

kisses that lead to more than kissing

kissing in the rain

almost kisses that are interrupted by a third party

nervous kisses

staring at your lover's lips before a kiss

hands on your lovers neck while kissing

routine kisses

drunk (mutually / accidental) kisses

kissing your lover as a reward

lazy makeouts

kisses leaving you breathless

heavy breathing with foreheads leaning together

hands in your lovers hair

hands under your lovers clothes

forbidden kisses

pulling your lover in by their collar

pulling your lover in by their tie

hands cupping your lovers cheeks

passionate kissing, pressed up against a wall

being caught kissing

confessing in the heat of the moment, leading to a kiss

luring your lover back to bed with kisses

kisses with a height difference - one leaning down while the other is on their tiptoes

[writtenbymoonflower]

Unpretty

You are insecure and Peter is oblivious. tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

cw: reader had very negative thoughts about body image. mentions of weight and general body image issues. i tried to keep it as neutral as possible so everybody could read and relate, so it can be read as plus!size reader or not.

1.5k words

The position you were in wasn’t unnecessarily uncomfortable. The physical part felt really nice, actually. Peter was laid on his side, nose nuzzled into your hair while you were in his arms flat on your back. His even breathing was soothing and you felt close and warm. 

Emotionally, however, you felt confused. 

You had to resist cringing every time you remembered that Peter’s large hand was spread over the bottom of your tummy, likely feeling everything “wrong” about it. He could definitely feel it wasn’t as flat or firm as you would like it to be, even through your thick crewneck. And even though you logically knew it was impossible, you felt the stinging insecurity all over your body, like he was touching you everywhere you hated. Your brain was telling you that through feeling the soft part of your stomach, he could also feel and see where your thighs were too big, where stretchmarks were painted all over your body, and where your skin wasn’t completely smooth. 

He probably would hate my body as much as I do if he could see. The little voice in your head nagged. 

Obviously, you knew that wasn’t true. You knew that everyone had little things that bothered them and yours weren’t even especially unusual. You also knew that voicing these thoughts to Peter would likely lead to you being even more self-conscious and him being confused. Or even worse, him pitying you. You were snapped out of your spiral by Peter’s shifting in position. 

“What’re you thinking of, baby?” Peter whispered. To your horror, his hand started rubbing your stomach over your sweater. “I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.” He laughed the way he does when trying to calm you down, like he doesn’t think it’s funny but it might be less intimidating if you believe he does. You turned your head to look at him. Being this close didn’t allow you to see his full face, but you could see one of his pretty brown eyes, looking at you with far too much love for your heart to handle.

“Not thinking of anythin’ really.” You kept your voice as even as possible and hoped he didn’t hear the nervous hitch in your breath as he reached under the hem of your sweatshirt to touch your skin. You panicked and tried to cover by grabbing his hand in yours and holding it between your ribs, right under your chest. He looked confused but still stroked your hand with his thumb.

“Yeah okay.” He was sarcastic and rolling his eyes but his voice was still light. He brought your joined hands up to kiss the veins on your wrist, closing his eyes and letting his lips linger for a good few seconds. All while still burning his eyes over your face, letting his pupils linger over a feature before jumping to the next, admiring your whole face with so much care you would cry. 

“What?” You asked, growing shy under his intense stare. 

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He was still smiling at you like a fool. “So so pretty.” He sing-songed. He urged you to lay on top of him with his arms, but you held fast in your place. Your boyfriend apparently took this as a challenge, because he showed off his real strength by pulling you fast onto his chest. 

“Peter!” You said, scolding and nervous and flustered all at once. 

“What?” He asked smugly, with a look of triumph on his face. You ducked your head out of his eyesight. “Baby, what’s up?” He asked again, more sincere. You still didn’t answer, your anxiety was roaring too loud in your head. You were probably crushing him under your weight. His hands were planted on your hips, likely feeling the extra fat and getting grossed out. He was just too nice to say anything. He was also too far close to your face for comfort, definitely seeing patches of oily skin or blemishes littering your face. It all became too much for you and you tried to roll off of him, but he gripped onto you harder. 

“Peter, let me off.” You kept your voice light but you were panicking inside. 

“Yeah, not happening.” He stayed stubborn as a mule. 

“But I’m heavy, I’ll crush you.” You said desperately. 

“Good.” He rebutted, still acting as if this was a casual conversation. 

“Peter, I’m serious. I’m too heavy for this. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Your voice trailed off, getting quieter towards the end. The whole sentence was soaked in shame that Peter hadn’t yet picked up on. Now, there was a concerned crease between his eyebrows. 

“Huh?” He looked genuinely confused. “What put that dumb idea in your head? ‘Too heavy’ for what, exactly?” He started as if he was about to rant, but cut it short. To your dismay, he pulled more of your weight onto him. 

“It’s not dumb, it’s true. I’m just too heavy” You argued back. He couldn’t really be that oblivious. Anyone with eyes could see it. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” He started sassing, like he actually wasn’t sorry at all. “I didn’t know that you now were the only deciding judge of something being ‘too much.’” He was being defiant on purpose. 

“Peter, please.” All joking and argumentativeness had left your tone, just leaving shame and sadness. Peter softened at this and encouraged your head up to meet his eyes, holding your jaw firmly so you couldn’t look away. He looked like he was slowly putting pieces together in his head. 

“Baby,” He started, still not breaking eye contact with you. “Is this why you’ve not been letting me touch you as much?” Peter looked so sad, it didn’t suit him at all and you wanted to make it better immediately. “Do you think there’s something wrong with you, that I would think there’s something wrong with you?” On the last sentence he was extra distressed, like he couldn’t believe the words were leaving his mouth. 

“I just-” You were trying to articulate your feelings without making this any worse. “I mean, not every part of me is pretty, you know that.” You tried to say it casually but Peter’s expression didn’t lighten at all. Instead, his bottom lip jutted out and his eyes got wider, looking like a cartoonishly sad puppy who was denied a treat. 

“I don’t know that, actually.” He moved his hand to the back of your head, threading his fingers in your hair. “You don’t think you’re pretty?” He said the last part like his heart was cracking. And in Peter’s mind, it was. His baby was thinking badly of herself, and even worse, she was thinking he thought badly of her. 

“I mean,” You cringed as the words left your mouth, wanting desperately for the conversation to end. “Not really. At least, there is a lot about me that could be a lot better.” Peter was at a loss for words. You had obviously mulled this over and were solid in your opinion. 

“I don’t think there is. I think you are perfect. I love everything about you.” He said softly, his voice missing its usual teasing tone.

“But-” You started, but cut yourself off. 

“But what?” Your argumentative boyfriend was back. “C’mon. Talk to me, baby.”

“I just-” You gathered your thoughts as best you could. He was really being difficult. There was no way he hadn’t noticed something. You also really did not want to say your insecurities out loud. It was too raw. But you knew Peter, and he wouldn’t back off without you giving something. “My stomach isn’t flat.” You said, as if that was enough argument for you being disgusting. 

“Okay?” He actually laughed at this, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “And?” 

You rolled your eyes, irritated. “And, in general I’m just too big. And my skin isn’t good either. It just doesn’t all add up very well does it?” You resisted the urge to cry, you didn’t want to add that on top of this already stressful discussion. 

“Sweetheart,” He looked exasperated. “I think- I think you’re being really mean and unfair to yourself.” He searched for the right words. “Everyone has things about themselves they don’t like, yeah? But you should know, you are not too anything, and there is nothing about your looks or body that is ‘not good.’’ He said every word firmly. “And most importantly, there is nothing, absolutely nothing about your body that I dislike, or that you should worry about me seeing or touching, okay?” His voice was soft during the last few sentences, like he was speaking to a little kid with a scraped knee. It made it a lot harder to resist crying. “Okay?” he said, still looking directly into your eyes. 

“Okay.” You said, watery. You swallowed hard and buried your face in his chest, feeling all too many emotions. “Thank you, Pete.” You didn’t think you could say anything else without falling apart. 

“It’s okay. I'ts alright. It’s what I’m here for.” He stroked the back of your head, still being gentle. “Just do me a favor, yeah?” 

“Mhm?” You muffled.

“Just, make my job easier for me next time. Tell me when you’re feeling like this, okay baby?” He pleaded as he pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“Okay. I will.” 

“Good. Now cuddle me please.” Demanding Peter was back. “And put all your weight on me, it’s no good otherwise.” 

[cerisereids]

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

characters i write for

(i no longer take requests, sorry!)

criminal minds: aaron hotchner, spencer reid, derek morgan, emily prentiss, luke alvez

stranger things: eddie munson, steve harrington, robin buckley, nancy wheeler

tasm: peter parker (andrew garfield’s peter only)

bridgerton: benedict, anthony, colin, kate

𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗱

some bunny special- dad!spencer x fem!reader

please don’t have somebody waiting on you- s1!spencer x bau!reader

lovely to sit between comfort and chaos, part 1- spencer reid x fem!reader

part 2

in the mirror of your eyes, my love, my life- young dad!spencer reid x bau!mom!reader

is it that sweet? i guess so!- later seasons!spencer reid x plus size!liason!reader

time makes you bolder, children get older- young dad!spencer reid x bau!mom!reader

blurbs found under the tag- belle’s blurbs s.r.

𝗮𝗮𝗿𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗻𝗲𝗿

we can’t be friends (wait for your love)- complete

part 2

part 3

part 4

blurbs found under the tag- belle’s blurbs a.h.

𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝘁 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻

good old fashioned lover boy- benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻

blurbs found under the tag- belle’s blurbs s.h.

𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗺𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗼𝗻

the boy is mine- eddie munson x fem!reader

[alloftheimaginesblog]

admired {tasm!peter x plus size reader}

plot: you and peter have been friends since you were both knee height, you're both in your twenties now and you're learning to navigate the feelings you both have for the other.

character: andrew garfield x plus sized female reader

warnings: negative feelings/comments about being plus sized

It was little details you noticed over the course of a few months. Just little things at first. So little, in fact, that you barely registered that things were changing until you were too far gone. It was so gradual, so slow, that by the time you realised you could do nothing to stop it.

It started with the way his eyes looked when the sun shone directly on his face; brown turned to golden honey, warm and pretty. Then it was the way he threw his head back when laughing, hands holding his stomach. The way his brow furrowed when he looked into your eyes, asking if you were okay. The way he would text you to make sure that you got home safe no matter the time of day or night.

And then it was too late.

You were in love with him; in love with Peter Parker, your childhood best friend.

Of course you weren't going to tell him. You were waiting for it to pass, it was just a stupid crush that was all; a stupid, small, insignificant crush... but oh no it wasn't. You were down bad for Peter. You thought about him constantly, cheeks burning every time he touched you or complimented you. Each night before you slept, your mind whirred with the possibilities of what a love with your best friend might be like but it was all just a dream - a fantasy.

You didn't think that Peter would ever love you back or even find you the slightest bit attractive. Peter was handsome. He was funny, smart, kind - god the kindest person you'd ever met. You were just... you. You had gotten past a lot of your self esteem issues but you were still self-conscious, years of hating your body and thinking you weren't worth much came swirling back. You'd been in a few not serious relationships before but nothing real, nothing long lasting. Your heart ached with the possibilities of what could be but your head fought hard against it until you'd convinced yourself that Peter wouldn't find you attractive and he wouldn't want to be with you.

You smoothed your t-shirt down past your stomach, turning and twisting to look at yourself from every angle. You had a complicated relationship with your body. Growing up, you were bullied and the things that teenagers would say about you was awful. Why would people be so horrible over something as simple as a body? Why did your body offend them so much? As you grew older, growing into a young adult, you began to find a little bit of peace with yourself. You dressed how you wanted to dress, not caring so much if a tight skirt showed off your overhanging stomach and not batting an eyelid when you would have to size up after putting on a bit of weight. You were content within yourself and it showed. Confidence began to come back to you which meant that happiness was something that started coming back too.

However as you stood in front of the mirror as you got dressed to go have lunch with Peter, you couldn't help it as some of those old little worries came niggling back into your mind. You'd bought this new top a couple of weeks back and you liked it at the time but now that you were wearing it, you frowned at the way it clung to your stomach rolls and the way it showed off your arms. Maybe a different outfit would calm the worries in your stomach...

Four outfit changes later, you still weren't satisfied and you were starting to get frustrated, tears were starting to fill your eyes. You couldn't find anything to wear and now your insecurities were in full blown self-sabotage mode. In your frustration, you'd text Peter and made a lame excuse and cancelled on your lunch plans with him. You couldn't face him, not today, not like this. The thoughts that swirled around your mind were awful, horrid things that you hadn't thought about yourself in a long time and the tears came fast and furious after you text him.

To try to silence your insecurities, you curled up onto the couch and stuck on a Disney movie. Your phone, which lay abandoned on your bedroom floor, vibrated and vibrated signalling someone was trying to call you but you weren't interested in answering so it stayed on the floor and you stayed on the couch.

It was an hour or two later when you'd moved onto watching Beauty and the Beast that there was a knock at your door which you ignored until the knock continued and continued. Someone was persistent. You frowned, throwing the blanket off of you and huffing as you went to the door. You checked through the peep hole and your froze when you saw it was Peter.

"(y/n), let me in," he said loudly, "I know you're there."

You stayed silent with bated breath, panicked and unsure what to do. You'd ditched him earlier and now he was here but you weren't ready to see him. You looked down at your clothes; an old massive t-shirt and loose fitting pyjama trousers. You looked a mess.

"(y/n)."

"Yeah?" Your voice was quiet but with Peter's heightened abilities he could hear you perfectly fine.

"Let me in. Please. Whatever's going on, I just wanna help."

"You're not gonna go away are you?"

"Absolutely not."

With a heavy sigh and a pounding heart, you opened the door slightly, poking your head out, "Why are you here, Pete?"

He looked at you causing you to shift your weight to either foot, the way he looked at you with those damn brown eyes which bore into your soul made you nervous and excited all at the same time, "You cancelled on me," he said it like it was obvious, "You would never cancel a date-" date, "-to Frankie's, you love Frankie's. I thought something was up so I called and called and you ignored all my calls so I knew something was definitely up."

You avoided his gaze.

"Can I come in?"

You stepped aside, opening the door wider, and let him past. Your cheeks burned as shame settled deep in your stomach. You felt awful. You felt as though you'd let him down; let yourself down. Peter didn't bat an eyelid to your appearance nor did he judge it. He liked seeing you in comfortable clothes, liked you wearing anything but like this was his favourite. It was slightly awkward as he went to the couch and you followed quietly behind him.

"Watching Beauty and the Beast... without me?" The corners of his lips tilted upwards but the humour didn't quite reach his eyes. He knew that something was wrong, "Hey..." His hand reached for yours but you were quick to flinch away from him. Confusion and - was that hurt? - flashed across his face, "Have I done something to upset you?"

You closed your eyes, screaming in your head. It wasn't him, it was never him; it was all you. Everything was messed up and you felt awful because he felt bad. In your hatred for yourself, you'd managed to push away your best friend.

"(y/n)," his voice was soft, "tell me what's going on. Why does it seem like you're avoiding me?"

"Because I am." You couldn't look at him.

"Have I done something to upset you?" You shook your head furiously, "Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I couldn't find anything to wear." It was partially the truth, wasn't it? You couldn't find a flattering outfit and you freaked out and fell into a pit of sadness and self loathing.

Peter frowned. Couldn't find anything to wear? How did that work? Peter's mouth opened and closed a few times before he spoke, "Why did that mean you avoided me all day?"

You grabbed a pillow, hiding your face with it and effectively muffling your voice, "Because everything I wore made me look horrible. It made me look like I was 10 stone heavier than what I am and the way things made me feel... ugh! I just couldn't, Pete- how can I be around you looking like how I look when you look like that?" He didn't understand it. He didn't understand why you were talking about yourself this way, in such a horrid, ugly way, "I-I couldn't find something that made me look half decent!"

"Woah, woah, woah," Peter said, shaking his head as he gently tried to pry the cushion away from your face, "Why are you- Why are you talking about yourself like that, (y/n)?"

You groaned out of frustration, slamming the pillow down and storming away as your hands rubbed at your face tiredly. Everything was too hard and you'd had enough for one day, "Doesn't matter, Pete. Just hormones. I think you should leave." It was like you were watching yourself from above, not in full control and confused as to why you were pushing him away. Peter watched you and the hurt was obvious on his face. He, too, was confused, "I think it would be better if you left."

He swallowed, "I'm not leaving, (y/n)... I want to help you."

"Help me?!" You tried your hardest to sound annoyed but you sounded pathetic as tears welled in your eyes and threatened to fall, "Look at me, Peter... I'm a mess."

Peter shook his head and he stood to walk over to you. He didn't know what had spurred this but he knew that he had to help fix whatever issues you were having just now. His voice was soft as he asked you to talk to him, "Please," he begged, "just talk to me."

"How could you ever find me attractive when I look like this?" Your admission was a mere whisper but Peter heard it loud and clear. You turned away from him, cheeks burning and heart racing. God you must've looked insane; crying, pushing him away and then admitting that you wanted him to find you attractive.

He was silent for a moment too long and shame grew wild and fast inside of your stomach, climbing up your throat making you feel ill. You'd said too much. Peter Parker was your friend, nothing more, and yet here you were confessing to him that you wanted him to be attracted to you. Fuck. You'd fucked it. Tears of embarrassment flooded your eyes as you turned away from him, not wanting him to see the heat of your cheeks or the tears that threatened to fall.

"Why..." Peter couldn't comprehend what you meant by your statement, "Why would you care if I found you attractive? We're... We're friends, aren't we? Why would you care?"

"I don't," you said quickly, wiping your face free of tears, "I misspoke, doesn't matter so just forget it-"

But Peter couldn't forget it. He couldn't just drop it. He knew he was pushing you too far and he was scared that your friendship might suffer at the end of this but he had to know, "Wait, does that mean- (y/n)," he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and spun you to face him, "do you want me to find you attractive? Do you have... feelings for me?"

Well if you weren't mortified before, you surely were now. Your face was on fire and again, your eyes welled with tears, "I-I- Just leave, Peter. Leave me alone." You pulled away from him, storming to the front door, "Just go away." You felt humiliated by this whole exchange. You had confessed your feelings for him partly and he wouldn't just leave. He was twisting the knife more and more, making that shame burn brighter in your stomach, "Please, just leave."

Peter didn't move. He stood staring at you with an unreadable expression. You had feelings for him? You, his best friend in the world, had feelings for him. Hope burned in his heart. He had been in love with you for years. He remembered when it happened. You were both 18 and had snuck into his Uncle Ben's alcohol cupboard and drank a little too much. You couldn't stop giggling at nothing as you and Peter stared up at the stars. He looked at you, grinning, and he knew. In that moment, he knew.

Over the years, Peter's hope for you falling for him dwindled so he pushed his feelings for you to the side. He was happy being your friend, that was enough, but if there was even the smallest chance that you felt the same for him... he would jump at the chance.

"(y/n)," he walked to you, hands reaching out for you, "I've been in love with you since we were 17."

Your breathing hitched in your throat.

"I've found you attractive for years. I find you your most attractive exactly like this; when you're comfortable. I... I never thought you'd feel the same for me so I never told you."

"But..." It was your turn to be confused now, "You have feelings for me?"

Peter laughed, hand moving up to caress your cheek, "You're the most beautiful person in the world to me, (y/n). You don't need to be ashamed or worried about how I perceive you... I promise, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." For a few seconds, you both stare at each other and even with your hair a mess, skin blotchy from crying and your eyes red, Peter still thinks you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, "Can I..."

You don't let him finish, instead you find a newfound confidence, and you force yourself onto your tiptoes to kiss him.

[sincericida]

I'm screaming!

Infinitely You pt.5

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4

Pairing(s) - Tom!Peter, Andrew!Peter, Tobey!Peter x Reader

Word Count - 6.0k

Summary - In every universe you are the one person Peter Parker will always love more than anything; unfortunately, he always realizes it too late. Now that they've been granted a second chance none of them are willing to miss out on finally making things right.

name key: tom!peter = peter ; andrew!peter = parker ; tobey!peter = pete

It was rare that I found myself in Greenwich Village, never finding much of a reason to stray that far outside of Queens. Last fall, Peter and I had made plans to take the subway over to the village at least a dozen times, always promising each other that we would go and spend an afternoon in Washington Square Park. 

I had wanted to see the leaves as they were changing colors, and Peter had wanted to see the fountain before the colder weather finally set in and they would cut it off. But something always came up. Someone, somewhere in the city would need help, need Spider-Man. I never wanted him to feel guilty for his responsibility to them, for being a hero, so I would always smile and promise that we would go another day. 

Another day never came.

But now here I stood, in the heart of Greenwich Village less than five minutes away from Washington Square Park, and that ‘another day’ somehow seemed even further away. 

Perhaps the worst part was that a few years ago I would have done nearly anything to be standing here, in this exact spot, dying to learn what was so special about 177A Bleecker Street. Yet now that I was finally here, standing within the walls of the enchanting townhouse, I wished that I could be anywhere else. Wished that another day had finally arrived, and that I was in Washington Square Park, walking with Peter and watching the leaves change. 

We barely even had a chance to talk to Peter on the phone, none of us wanting to waste time now that our situation had evolved into something even more dangerous. Parker had opted to keep our message concise: Green Goblin knew where we were, and worse, he knew who I was. 

I still struggled to wrap my head around it, going over it again and again in my mind. Why had he given himself away? What was the reason? He had the option to wait, to stick to the shadows and strike when he was ready. It would have been the perfect plan, his best shot at catching all three of them off-guard. 

Instead, he gave himself away. Made a move, let them know that he was watching me. That I was a potential target. It made my head hurt trying to make sense of it, trying to search for even an ounce of logic. I couldn’t understand it, and none of the Peter’s were interested in entertaining my questions as they tried to focus on one step at a time, the first being getting the hell out of my apartment. 

Peter instructed us to go to the Sanctum Sanctorum, promising that he would meet us there as soon as he could while assuring me that it was one of the safest places we could be. I knew that he was right, that we were much safer under the protection of sorcerers than we would be anywhere else in New York. Despite knowing that though, I still felt uneasy as Wong led us to a small living quarters on the second floor. 

“Peter!” 

I instantly recognized Mj’s voice, and while she had meant for his name to come out as little more than a harsh whisper, it reverberated throughout the rather barren room and immediately caused Parker, Pete, and I to glance in the direction of the sound. 

The first thing I noticed was how furious Peter looked, barreling into the room with his fists tightly clenched at his sides. Pete was the first to react to the anger exuding from him, swiftly taking a half-step in front of me, as if he were preparing himself to shield me from Peter’s anger. I appreciated the gesture, even if I knew that Peter would never cause me any harm. 

The second thing I noticed was Mj, hot on his heels with protests spewing from her mouth, desperately reaching out to try and grab at Peter, to hold him back. And, the first time in a year, he acted as if she wasn’t even there. 

“You were supposed to be keeping her safe!” 

I wasn’t sure I had ever heard him shout quite like this before, his eyes locked onto Parker who stood motionless beside me, so close that our hands were practically brushing against each other. 

“How did you not sense that he was there?” Peter questioned him, “What if he had tried to get inside? What if he had gotten to her?” 

Parker tried to remain composed, doing his absolute best not to react to Peter’s anger and further exacerbate it. “I don’t know what happened. I was by her side the entire day, and I never sensed that anything was off.”

“You obviously weren’t paying enough attention then!” 

I noticed Parker shift beside me, the only physical indication of his discomfort. He felt guilty enough, already blaming himself for not noticing that the Green Goblin had managed to get so close to us without his spidey-sense going off, and Peter was doing nothing but solidifying that guilt. I let my hand bump against his, offering a forgiving look when he glanced down at me. It wasn’t his fault. 

Mj tugged at Peter’s arm, followed by another desperate attempt to get him to realize arguing amongst ourselves wouldn’t do any good. “You need to calm down.” 

He clearly didn’t take the time to consider her advice, acting as though he hadn’t even heard her at all. “He could have killed her.” 

Even though the words were aimed at Parker, it was Pete that reacted as they rolled off Peter’s tongue. He flinched, as if they somehow caused him physical pain. I wasn’t the only one that noticed, the action recognized by everyone in the room, subsequently making him the next victim of Peter’s sour mood. 

“And you,” an accusing finger stretched out towards Pete as he stalked forward, effectively starting to close the distance between the two boys, “he’s from your world! He’s your responsibility! You didn’t even warn us that he knew who y/n was! That there was a chance he might look for her!” 

Pete didn’t respond to him, remaining completely silent. Still, he stayed on full-alert, never letting his stare stray from Peter as he analyzed his every move. 

“What? You’re not even gonna say anything?” Peter scoffed as his rage continued to grow with each second that Pete kept quiet. 

I understood where Peter was coming from, why he was acting this towards them. Beneath all of that rage, all of the fury, there was endless fear. He was too scared to care how he was coming off, to even try and control himself. 

He was reaching his breaking point. 

“Because of you–because you didn’t tell us she could be a target–she could have ended up dead.” He practically growled the words, taking another step forward until there were only a few inches between the two of them, repeating the words that seemed to impact Pete so deeply just a moment ago. 

I couldn’t figure out Peter’s intentions, whether he was purposely trying to take a stab at Pete and cut him deeper or if he was simply grappling with the fact of what could have happened. He had lost so much already, and I knew it was possible that all of this was coming from a place of deep trauma rather than an attempt to hurt the other Peter’s. 

Regardless, it didn’t matter. 

The words didn’t have the same effect twice, as Pete refused to show whether or not they had hit their mark this time. His stare remained fixed on Peter, as if he were sizing him up. Pete took another half-step to the side, planting himself in front of me and fully blocking me from Peter’s view. “I suggest you take a step back.” 

I couldn’t see Peter’s face, couldn’t read his expression, but I had a feeling that Pete’s choice to guard me from him had done nothing but enrage him further. 

“Get away from her.” He sounded so unfamiliar, so animalistic and unlike him. It made me absolutely terrified–not of him, but for him. 

“C’mon,” I attempted to peer around Pete’s arm, catching a small glimpse of Mj grabbing Peter’s wrist, pulling him, “leave it alone. Please.” 

I imagined that Mj was just as concerned as I was about him, that she also recognized just how foreign he seemed in comparison to the Peter we knew. 

“Look, you’re right.” Parker chimed in, joining in Mj’s effort to try and calm Peter down. He stepped away from my side, positioning himself in-between the two other Peter Parker’s. “I agree that he should have warned us. We got lucky this time, but she could have gotten hurt. But what could have happened doesn’t matter nearly as much as what did happen. What matters is that she’s safe. And now we need to figure out what to do going forward.” 

A beat of silence passed, and I felt extremely out-of-the-loop from where I stood behind Pete, unable to see if their attempts at calming him down were even working at all. 

“You need to tell us everything.” Peter’s voice was quieter, though a sharp edge still remained, just enough to let them know that not all had been forgiven. Not yet, at least. “About the Goblin. About y/n in your world. Everything.” 

“But first-” Parker interjected again before Pete could reply. It left me wondering if he also noticed the way his muscles tensed at what Peter had said, at the thought of telling us about his universe. “We need to take care of the more important things. Like making sure we have somewhere safe to stay until he’s caught.” 

“I already called Happy on the way over.” Peter noted, “Mr. Stark used to own a safehouse outside of the city, somewhere in Vermont, I think. He’s checking to see if y/n can stay there, Mj and Ned too, at least until we catch the Goblin.” 

“What?” 

It came out harsher than intended, but I didn’t really care as I stepped out from behind Pete. He let me move, though I acknowledged the way he shifted alongside me, making sure to stay within a few inches of me. “You’re not being serious, right?” I asked him. 

“It’s too dangerous for you to be here.” The matter-of-fact tone he used only irritated me. He was right, but I didn’t care. “I can’t focus on finding him if I’m constantly worried about something happening to you.” Mj seemed to shrink at his words, gaze falling to the floor. “Wong said it’s fine for you to stay here tonight, but I want you out of New York by tomorrow morning.” 

“No.” 

I pressed my lips together, arms crossed over my chest, desperately attempting to hold my ground. I understood why he wanted us out of the city, fully aware that a safehouse anywhere but New York could be a better option than staying in place, but I refused. 

Peter was teetering on the edge, so close that it was becoming increasingly more evident with each passing day. One wrong move would send him tumbling right over it, and if that happened he couldn’t afford to be alone. He needed us–Mj, Ned, and I. He needed his friends. 

“She’s right.” Mj agreed in a monotonous voice, hiding her own emotion behind it, “We’re not gonna leave you to do this alone.”  

Peter didn’t have a chance to argue before Pete spoke up as well, cutting him off before he even began. “He’s gonna look everywhere for her. Vermont isn’t far enough. Nowhere is gonna be far enough to keep him away from her.” The pale expression that accompanied his statement was enough to make my stomach twist, but I held strong. 

“So what? You think it’s just safer to let her stay in the city? Even though he already found her once?” 

“It’s safer for her to be with me.” 

The declaration caused everyone to look towards him, a bit stunned by the urgency and emotion behind his choice of words. Parker and Peter both looked put-off by it. 

“Us.” Pete softly corrected himself, clearly uncomfortable under the weight of everyone’s gaze. “He’s going to come after her, no matter where she is. We can’t protect her from Vermont. She needs to be here.”

“He’s right.” I backed him up before Peter could protest, though a part of me wanted to ask Pete why he was so insistent that I stay with them–with him–when he had put so much effort into avoiding me lately. Later, I told myself, aware that now wasn’t the time, I’ll ask him later. 

Peter looked towards me, and for a moment I could see through that mask of rage he had been working to keep up, see the despondent boy that laid beneath it. He was losing hope, and that scared me more than the Green Goblin ever could. 

“I need to go talk to Wong.” His tone remained even, concealing any trace of anger or even desperation. Completely emotionless, unfeeling. “He might know if Dr. Strange has figured anything else out, if there is something that can help us.” 

“And I’ll go patrol around y/n’s apartment,” Parker added, “see if he’s still around there somewhere.” 

Peter only nodded at Parker, the only sign that he was listening. Mj tugged at his arm again, just as desperate as the rest of us for this conversation to come to an end. He barely acknowledged it, though, eyes still glued to me. “We’ll talk later about where you’re staying.” 

I returned the same nod he had given to Parker, deciding not to actually speak, an effort to not add fuel to an already burning fire. He seemed to be considering an option other than Vermont, and that was enough for right now. 

Mj followed beside him as he turned to walk out the same way he had come in. As they left she looked over her shoulder, only once, watching as I stood between two Peter Parker’s of my own. I didn’t know what she was thinking, her face telling me absolutely nothing about what was in her mind. And then, she was gone, disappearing behind a closed door. 

Parker sighed as soon as it clicked shut, his body relaxing instantly as the tension in the room began to fade away. “You,” he jabbed a finger towards Pete, who only stared at the digit pointing at his chest, “are not making this any easier. If there’s something from your world–anything at all–that can help us keep y/n safe, then you need to let us know.” 

“I have it under control.” Pete told him, never meeting his gaze. Parker and I both seemed to recognize that it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of that than us. 

“The Goblin found out where she lives, dude.” It was the gentlest way Parker could think of to tell Pete that he was wrong, that he obviously didn’t have it under control. “We’re all on the same team, alright? You’ve gotta trust us, let us help.” 

“Later.” Pete replied, choosing not to acknowledge the meaning behind Parker’s statement. Choosing not to think about how the Goblin had managed to get so close to me, without any of them even noticing. 

Parker knew the conversation would go nowhere right now, knew that Pete wasn’t ready to talk about his universe or the reason why the Goblin had even been looking for me, and so he let it die. 

So he let his attention shift to me, moving closer and placing a hand on top of my head, jokingly ruffling my hair. It was stupid, another little comforting touch meant to distract me from the severity of our situation. It was stupid, and yet I appreciated it more than he would ever know. “I’ll be back soon, m’kay?” 

I smiled at him, albeit a little weak. “Be careful.” 

“Always.” 

And with one last glance in my direction, he set off back to my apartment, hoping to find any trace of the Goblin while simultaneously leaving me alone to deal with the version of Peter Parker that wanted to be anywhere other than here. 

And that made two of us. 

Being around Peter had always felt natural. 

Our friendship had survived several years already, following us through middle school crushes, the horrors of freshman year, and even genetically-engineered spiders and joining the Avengers. I liked to think that we could make it through anything–despite the fact that my feelings for him had begun to grow into something other, something beyond solely platonic. It was surviving, persevering even now as I adapted to a world where he was with Mj and not me. 

I felt similarly about Parker. 

Of course I hadn’t known him anywhere near as long as I had Peter, but being around Parker felt effortless, something close to a second nature. It was like I had known him for several years, like he had always been this permanent fixture in my life. Our constant banter and little comforting touches were quickly becoming my lifeline, acting as a silent promise that we would all get through this. 

And being around Pete… It felt so different from the other two, something in-between. Which, to be far, made a lot of sense seeing as though we hadn’t spent much time together since he found himself stuck here. But it was driving me insane, not being able to understand where I stood with him. He had gone from seeming like he could warm-up to me to avoiding me entirely. 

It made no sense, or at least not to me, and the confusion left me to do nothing but draw my own conclusions. Pete had already gotten to know me–or at least he had known some version of me–and I was starting to think that was the problem, the reason he was avoiding me. He already knew me. And maybe, just maybe, he wished he didn’t. 

Unfortunately for him, though, he was left with little choice in the matter. There was no space for privacy in the Sanctum, especially since Wong had kindly asked us not to explore the property outside of the room he placed us in, likely afraid that we would end up messing with something far outside our understanding. 

This left Pete and I in a rather awkward situation, one where neither of us could escape the other, leaving us to bask in the unbearable silence that encompassed us.  

“You could probably go out and help Parker look, ya know.” I finally spoke up, my voice hoarse from having remained quiet for so long. It had been about an hour since Parker left, and I hadn’t spoken since. “If you want to.” I added on, not wanting it to seem as if I wanted to get rid of him. 

I understood that need for someone to stay by my side, especially now that we knew the Green Goblin was coming after me, but there really wasn’t a need for one of them to stay glued to my side right now. 

The Sanctum Sanctorum was the safest place I could be, a sorcerer literally always within earshot. If the Goblin managed to find this place and was stupid enough to try and get in, then surely Wong or Dr. Strange would be able to take care of it. So, Pete didn’t have to stay. And given how desperate he had seemed to avoid me this past week, I figured he didn’t really want to stay anyways. 

Pete peeked up at me from where he sat, just across from me with only a small coffee table separating the two of us. He looked extremely uncomfortable, his posture quite stiff, though I wasn’t sure if it was our current situation that caused it or if it was his choice of seat. 

He had chosen to sit on the ugliest sofa I had ever seen, the fabric made of the most nauseating shade of yellow, and it looked as if the cushions had been stuffed with bricks. I wasn’t sure who decorated this room, but I was fairly certain they had to be color-blind, and also cared very little for comfort. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone.” Gone was the boy who had stood up to Peter, using himself as a shield to prevent anyone from coming towards me. He sounded much smaller now, a bit apprehensive now that it was just the two of us alone. 

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be stuck here with me.” I struggled with my word choice, debating whether or not I wanted to mention how he had been trying to steer clear of me. I ultimately decided to at least hint to it, ease into the conversation. “I know you’ve seemed pretty… eager, I guess, to always be the one out of the streets.”  

“Why would I feel stuck?” He spoke so quickly, so rushed. It almost made me question if he had been completely oblivious to how he had been acting, if I had just been overthinking the entire situation. 

I lightly shrugged my shoulders, busying myself by lightly picking at the upholstery of my own chair. Its color was nearly as sickening as Pete’s, an odd green shade that didn’t match the rest of the furniture. “Well,” I inhaled sharply, deciding to just be blunt with it, “you’ve done nothing but avoid me since you’ve been here.” 

His eyes instantly grew wider, his rigid form leaning forward slightly, as if he were shocked by my claim. Okay, I thought to myself, maybe he is oblivious. 

“It’s not a big deal,” I began to reassure him, already regretting having mentioned it at all, “I mean, you’re just doing your job, right? As Spider-Man? Going out, looking for the Goblin and that weird sand-guy or whatever. I wouldn’t wanna sit around and babysit some girl I don’t even care about either-” 

“You think I don’t care?” His eyebrows snapped together in concern while effectively cutting off my incessant rambling.

A warmth began to creep up my neck, discomfort setting in as I realized just how difficult it was to say the right things. Why was this so hard? I never had this much trouble talking to Parker, so why was talking to Pete so different? 

“I just sort-of assumed, ya know?” I likely should’ve left it at that, but of course I felt the need to carry on further, “I mean, you’ve got better things to do than sit around with me, and I don’t even think Parker minds that much that he’s been the one stuck on babysitting duty, and for all I know you don’t even like me in your world so why would you want to spend all day in the same room as me-” 

“God, you really are the exact same, aren’t you?” 

A quizzical expression taking over his features, followed by a lopsided grin, once again cutting me off. I didn’t say anything to his revelation, waiting for him to continue. 

“I don’t not like you. And I haven’t been trying to avoid you.” Pete clarified. “Trust me, I would love nothing more than to sit around and do nothing but spend time with you. But it’s just… complicated.” 

I groaned, throwing my head back slightly. “Why does everyone keep saying that?” 

Frustration began to bubble up inside of me, even if the emotion was a bit unfair. He didn’t technically have to divulge any information about his universe, about me, that didn’t pertain to the Goblin. But at the same time, I almost felt like I deserved to know about this other life and why it caused him to act so distant around me. 

“You and Parker both know so much about me, and I know nothing about either of you. And whenever I try to ask, try to understand everything, that’s all anyone can ever say.” I admitted weakly, letting myself flop back in my seat. “It’s just complicated.” 

Pete sighed, staring at me while I went back to toying with the loose strings of my armchair. I expected the conversation to die with that, a simple exhausted sigh, another quiet confirmation that I was to be left in the dark. But, surprisingly, he didn’t. 

“When they told us about you–Parker and I–I was terrified.” He started with a shaky breath, a bit of uncertainty behind his tone, as if he weren’t entirely sure why he was sharing this with me. “I figured you would be like the other versions of me, or even Mj, and be a completely different person that just happened to share a name. That’s why I didn’t want to come to your house at first, because I didn’t think I could handle it. Hearing your name but not seeing your face, not seeing you.” 

There was a brief pause, and I noticed the tiniest hints of a smile on his lips, but there was a noticeable sadness to it. 

“But I knew I’d have to meet you eventually. It’s not like I really had anywhere else to go.” He let out a soft chuckle, “And I don’t think anything could have prepared me for it. Actually seeing you. Not just someone who shared the same name, but someone with the same eyes, same smile, same voice. And, in a way, that was almost worse.” 

“Why is that worse?” I didn’t think before asking the question, letting it fall from my lips without a second thought. 

Pete hesitated, eyes glued to the floor. “Because I never thought I’d get the chance to see you again.” 

I felt my heart skip a beat, my chest tightening slightly as I listened to him. I almost felt as if I should apologize to him and offer him an easy way out of the conversation. But before I had a chance, he spoke again. 

“We were just kids when we first met.” A memory seemed to play in his head, distracting him from the present moment as he continued to look off. “You and Mary Jane had been best friends since forever–” Mary Jane, I thought to myself, his very own Mj. “and you would come over to her house all the time. I lived next door with my aunt and uncle, and every time I came outside you would always pick on me and try to get under my skin.” 

Another laugh slipped from his parted lips, and I could almost feel my own heart swell from the emotions flashing across his face. It was the most relaxed I had ever seen him, as if living in the past was the only peace he had left. 

“You actually never stopped teasing me, even when we got older. I always thought it was a miracle that we became friends, cause I really believed you hated me when we were little. But, eventually, we were pretty much inseparable. Mj used to get mad at me and tell me I stole her best friend.”

That past memory seemed to fade from his view, replaced with a much colder reality, his relaxed form once again turning rigid. “I guess all of that ties into how you met Dr. Osborn. By us becoming friends, you met his son, Harry.” 

Another name that seemed to exist throughout the multiverse. 

“Dr. Osborn loved you as soon as he met you, which made sense. Out of the three of us you were by far the smartest. It ticked Harry off sometimes that his dad was so interested in you, but I think he was also happy for you, because he knew having Dr. Osborn on your side would open up so many new opportunities for you.” 

“What kind of opportunities?” I pressed my elbows into my knees, leaning towards him. 

“You wanted to study phytology, and you had already developed an incredible thesis before you even graduated. You wanted to study the regenerative properties of plants and use them to help restore damaged cells in humans.” Pete seemed so proud, so utterly in awe. “Dr. Osborn was planning on giving you a grant as soon as you started college. He had already given you your own workspace at Oscorp to start your research.” A beat of silence, then two, before he spoke again, a little quieter than before. “He really believed in you.” 

I knew a little bit about phytology, or at least enough to know that it was basically just plant science, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that related to the spider lily he had left outside my apartment–the one that had seemed to terrify Pete so much. 

“Is that why he left the flower?” I decided to ask, to see if he could confirm my suspicion. “Did it mean something to him?” 

Pete swallowed roughly. “Kind of. They were one of your favorite flowers you had ever studied, and you always said it was because they reminded you of me. I guess because of the whole Spider-Man thing.” He shook his head a little at the thought, at the silly reasoning behind loving them. “Dr. Osborn knew how much you loved them. You told me that he left a huge bouquet of them in your new lab at Oscorp, and said they symbolized new beginnings.” 

I absentmindedly nodded along with his words, trying to take it all in. “I don’t really understand, then. If he liked me so much, then why is it a big deal if he finds me?” 

Pete wasn’t as good at hiding his emotions, not in the way that Peter or Parker were. I instantly noticed the sadness pooling in his blue eyes, watching as he desperately tried to bury the overwhelming guilt that swirled alongside it. 

“Dr. Osborn might’ve loved you, but the Goblin didn’t.” Pete’s breathing became a bit shallow as he let himself shrink back into the couch. “He wanted you dead.” 

The statement likely should’ve struck fear in me, but it didn’t, too focused on the change in Pete’s body language. The way his jaw was suddenly clenched tight, his fists now balled up at his sides. 

“Why?” 

I wasn’t sure if asking had been the right choice; unsure of just how far I should push him, or if I should even push him at all. 

“A lesson in pain and loss.” He repeated the same peculiar phrase he had mentioned earlier in my apartment, right after seeing the flower in Parker’s hand. “He knew that you were my only weakness, the only thing that could hurt me. If he killed you, then he would win.” 

I chewed on my cheek, hesitating a moment–just one–before responding. “Pete…” 

He didn’t let me finish, didn’t let me apologize. 

“He let me think that I could save you.” His tone was so empty, so controlled. But I could practically hear it–the erratic beating of his heart, the blood rushing in his ears. “You trusted Dr. Osborn so much, and the Goblin abused that trust. He used it to his advantage, abducted you and took you to the top of the Brooklyn Bridge.” 

His clenched fists tightened even further, his nails digging into his palms, so rough that they drew blood. 

“He made me watch as he threw you over the edge–and then he let me catch you, let me shoot that web towards you.” His eyes were glossy, the dim light reflecting off the unshed tears. Acting on pure instinct, I rose to my feet, readying myself to hurry to his side if needed. “I was so relieved when I felt it hit you, just barely catching your leg.” 

My own heart suddenly felt like a weight in my chest, forced to watch as the boy in front of me–the one who was so stand-offish, so detached–completely fell apart, the tears finally slipping down his cheeks. In an instant, everything made sense; the reason he had been avoiding me, why he was so desperate to find the Green Goblin. I instantly moved to his side, letting myself drop to my knees beside him. 

“Whatever he did isn’t your fault, Pete.” I took his hands in mine, prying his fingers away from his bloodied skin. I didn’t know what else to say, doubting that there was even anything to say that would even help. 

From a fall that high… even if he had caught her–

“You were dead before I even pulled you up.” He finished my thought before I had a chance to, unable to tear his eyes away from the floor. “He might’ve been the one to push you, but I’m the one who killed you.” 

I froze, unable to imagine the pain he was feeling, the trauma the event must have caused. My grip tightened on his hand, but I couldn’t speak.

“And Dr. Osborn didn’t leave those stupid flowers in your lab, the Goblin did. And not for some new beginnings bullshit, but because they represent a final goodbye.” A single pause, a single breath. “They represent death.” 

“Pete,” I was so lost, so unsure of what to say, aware that none of it could erase what happened, “that’s not on you. You can’t blame yourself for any of that! You did your best–” 

He cut me off, his head jerking up so he could meet my gaze again. That hint of guilt in his eyes had grown, so much so that it had completely consumed him. “My best wasn’t good enough.” 

Pete’s breathing was erratic, his chest heaving desperately. It was as if that misplaced guilt had somehow liquidized, pouring into his lungs and drowning him. “I never-” the words seemed to get stuck in his throat, choking him further, “I never even got to tell you-” that I loved you. 

I didn’t let him say the words, cutting him off as I dropped his hands and threw my arms around his neck, squeezing him as tightly as I could. He didn’t respond to the touch for a second, as if it hadn’t even registered in his mind. But, after a moment, I felt his hands press against my back, his tears falling against me as he let  his face rest in the crook of my neck. 

“That’s why I’ve been trying to find him.” He muttered, the words muffled as his mouth pressed against my skin. “I can’t let him hurt you. Not again.” 

“I understand.” I told him, trying to keep my tone as soft as possible, doing everything I could to ease the panic he felt, the terror coursing through his veins. But I was still so uncertain of what to do, of what could possibly help. 

“Why don’t you tell me about her?” It was a shot in the dark, a last-ditch effort. “The me from your world, I mean.” I clarified, “We’re the same, right? And I know that’s what I would want for you. To think about the happier times, to stop beating yourself up over what you can’t change. Tell me something good, something you wanna remember.” 

Pete was motionless in my arms, the faint sounds of him sniffling the only noise to be heard. I started to think my attempt was worthless, perhaps the exact wrong thing to say. But, then, he shifted, just enough that he could look at me without causing my arms to fall. He wasn’t ready for me to let go; finding comfort in the rise and fall of my chest.

In the fact that here, in this universe, I was alive.

“There is one thing, I guess.” He began, those shallow breaths slowly starting to even out again as he let himself drift back to the past, finding that little bit of peace that still existed in his memories. “Every year we would always go to Washington Square Park, right at the start of fall.” I felt my heart stop, “We’d just spend the whole day there, walking around and watching the leaves change.” 

As he continued on–telling me how he’d take pictures of me by the arch, or how I’d always threaten to shove him in the fountain–I could see that guilt fade from view, not quite all the way, but just enough that he let himself remember a life before it. And as he spoke, I felt my own happiness grow alongside his. 

Maybe it hadn’t been in this universe with the Peter Parker I knew, but I had gotten my another day.

a/n - I have rewrote this part several times because I couldn't decide how to do it and UGH I am so glad to be done with it. Ofc, i decided to take inspiration from "The Night Gwen Stacy Died" story arc in the comics to discuss the reader in Pete's universe! I hope everyone enjoys this part, and I'm already starting on the next where I plan to explore Peter's reaction to the readers developing relationships with Pete and Parker! <3 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND ENJOYING!

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[bitchyycapricorn]

for ur october reqs; dom! reader & sub!tasm!peter?? maybe w overstim idk

Sub!TASM Peter x Dom!Reader + Overstim

-Fucked Out-

Kinktober Masterlist

Masterlist

AN: It’s been a while pookie bears. Not edited. If you saw it say bandage instead of bondage no you didn’t.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT! Dom/Sub, overstimulation, bondage, praise kink

A whine escapes Peter’s lips as he squirms against the restraints keeping his hands bound to the head board.

“Someone’s being awfully needy” You smirk, swinging your leg over Peter’s hips. Slowly, you eases down so your cunt just barley grazes over his acing shaft. You slowly swivel your hips in a teasing manner causing another whine to leave Peters lips as his tip brushes against your bare thigh. The feeling of his pre-cum smearing against your inner thigh has you mind going fuzzy already.

“P-please…” Peter begs, struggling to keep still. A small smirk forms on your face at his pleas, you can’t help but reach down to align him with your entrance.

“You want me pretty boy?” You hum, barely allowing his tip to enter your hot cunt. Peters eyes screw shut as a few rather pathetic noises leave his lips. “Look at you…barely able to keep yourself together and only the tips in…” you tease.

Keeping his eyes shut, Peter can only seem to respond with yet another whine. He’s been rather touch starved for the last few days due to his…job. But now he was here, under you. Whimpering and whining pathetically. He drew his lip between his teeth as you lower your hips. Your warmth surround his cock as he fills you up.

“Fuck Peter…” you mutter with a moan. “You feel so good…stretching me out so good.” You praise him, rocking your hips slowly against his. Steadying your body you slowly lean back, allowing your back to arch as you slide up and down his length. Peter can’t help but watch as your hips move against his. His eyes focusing in on the way it looks for his cock to slide in and out of your cunt. He watches as the head of his cock bulges inside you, all while you use him for your pleasure.

The feeling of your body against his is slowly becoming overwhelming as you pick up speed. Peter allows his eyes to roll to the back of his head as his first orgasm washes over him. Hot cum now seeping out of you as you continue to ride him.

Peter whimpers at the sensation, his voice shaky as he begs you to slow down. “I- it’s too much..” he murmurs, his hips involuntarily thrusting upwards.

“You can take it…” you hush, pushing his cock even deeper in you as you drag your hips back and forth, all while gliding your hips up and down.

“I don’t…I can’t…” Peter gasps, pulling at his restraints again as yet another orgasm surges through him. His eyes snap shut as a few moans tumble from his swollen lips. His cock twitches as he releases into you again.

“Look…you did it,” you smirk, leaning forward to place your hands on his chest now. Your finger traces over his abs as you allow Peter to adjust to the new position and its sensation. “Think you can give me another?” You ask as you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Peter squirms beneath you, realizing you weren’t going to let up until he was completely fucked out. He let out an incoherent murmur before nodding. His fluffy brown hair falling into his eyes as he looks up at you.

A smile spreads across your face as you press a proper kiss to his puffy lips. “So good for me…” you mumble, your lips still against his. You begin to slowly pick up your pace again, grinding your hips onto his, feeling his length deep inside you as a soft moan leaves your lips. “Such a pretty boy,”

His eyes flutter close at your words, his brain and body completely overstimulated by your touch. He could feel your walls flutter around him. He could feel the way you were gripping his shoulders. He could feel how flushed your tits are as you push your chest against his. Another whine escapes his lips. “I-I’m” he cries, his body tensing at the feeling of yet another tight knot building up.

Another kiss to his lips and he was sent over the edge, his body completely spasming as he finishes deep in you. You feel your own high come over you as Peter’s coming down from his.

+++

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[plzu]

TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Plus-Size Reader

summary: boardwalk & amusement park date with peter (college-aged peter & reader) warnings: inaccurate depictions of what it's like if a ferris wheel gets struck by lightning idk, fluff & hurt/comfort (reader is insecure) a/n: end of summer fic that i decided to use to write a plus-size reader who will never be too heavy to be carried away by spider-man :] because why are characters with super strength always paired with dainty damsels? if they can lift cars they can carry my overweight ass ♡ wordcount: 4.3k

Peter Parker is a Boy and a Friend, but he is not your Boyfriend. Something that's usually pretty easy to remember, but then there are times where it's just the two of you, shoulders bumping against each other, when the sparks between you feel static and sweet and not-so-platonic.

This breezy summer afternoon has been one of those days, Peter's singular attention making your heart flutter up a storm. Unfortunately, it was clashing with the insecurity that had reared its ugly head the past week, and had kept you locked away in your bedroom, avoiding mirrors and people and watching mind-numbing television. Peter had shown up after one too many days of not seeing you, and successfully coaxed you out of your room with the unfairly intoxicating combination of his puppy-dog brown eyes and stupidly charming smile. You're almost embarrassed by how hard it is to say no to him.

“I’m not gonna let you let these last few weeks of summer go to waste.” He said, stepping through the threshold of your bedroom.

You'd let a hundred summers go to waste while waiting for sweater weather if it meant being able to hide your body from everyone. Instead of admitting this to Peter, of course, you just grumbled that Fall's better.

“True,” he agreed, but then crossed your bedroom to crack open the blinds, letting sunlight spill through. “But we shouldn’t wait for a whole other season to get some fresh air, Sunshine.”

Turns out the fresh air Peter was referring to was salt-licked and sweet, ice cream cones in hand as you strolled the creaky boardwalk of Coney Island. It really was a beautiful day out. The summer swelter had finally given way to delicious cool breezes that ruffled the loose hem of your t-shirt. The fattest, fluffiest clouds lazily drifted across the piercing blue sky, cotton white and lovely.

It's the kind of day that should be spent outside. Peter was absolutely unequivocally correct about that. It makes you grateful to him for once again dragging you out of your comfort zone. He’s good at that. Coming to the rescue when you start to disappear in on yourself. Usually, it melts away your insecurities, or at least pushes them to the back of your mind until they’re easy to forget. 

Today, though, this outing feels more like a date than your other hangouts with Pete, not helped by how nice he looks in his light and airy button down, buttons undone to reveal a casual white t-shirt underneath, nor by the massive crush you’ve had on him since pretty much the day you met, or the fact that you’ve secretly romanticized boardwalks and amusement parks and beaches (despite not being a fan of being at the beach, and despite this beach being in Brooklyn). So you keep shying away from eye contact, giggling nervously, tripping over your words or just keeping uncharacteristically quiet. 

“I know what’ll put a smile on your face,” Peter says, leading you towards the section of the park with all the games and weaving between raucous children. 

“Am I- am I not smiling?” 

Peter makes a show of squinting back at you and your unsure mouth, head tilting left and right with uncertainty. “Hmm…” He pauses, sucks in air between his teeth. “I think we can do better, Sunshine.” The nickname is punctuated by a brief and gentle brush of his knuckle beneath your chin that surely would have set you aflame had a breeze not taken pity on you in that moment. 

Peter settles you both in front of some game that involves basketball hoops. Bright, colorful plushies both big and small line the walls inside the game booth, touted as potential prizes. 

Peter notices you eyeing them “‘M gonna win you the biggest one.”

“What?” You laugh. “Peter, no, we took the train here.”

He’s already giving the guy working the booth the ticket needed for playing. “If whole Mariachi bands with their instruments can stuff themselves into trains, I’m sure we can handle a giant teddy bear.”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Okay, fine then. I want the giant Spider-Man.”

Peter breathes out a laugh, eyes falling away from yours. “Thought you’d want something cuter.”

“Spider-Man���s cute,” you defend. “Like, when he does his little flips and shit?”

Still not making eye contact, he throws his head back in a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head as he readies the basketball in his hands. “If you say so.”

He makes every shot, because of course he does, and wins you one large Spider-Man plush. He also succeeds in putting a large smile on your face, all your anxieties effectively slipping away so you can fully enjoy yourself as you clutch the big soft toy to your body. Jokes and laughter peel out of you as Peter takes you to play more games, and it feels so easy being with Peter in a sea of people.

“Pete,” you say, watching him after leaving the game area. “It’s not fair how good at everything you are.”

“Whaddaya mean? I’m not good at everything.”

“You’re stupidly smart, and even good at basketball, apparently,” you explain, referencing the game that had won him the giant plush you’ve been dragging along. “And you make it all look so easy.” You don’t mention that he’s cute and possibly the kindest person you’ve ever met, because that would be veering dangerously into flirty territory, and you were not about to flirt with your best friend.

Peter studies your face as he leans over the boardwalk railing, propped up by his elbows. You mirror his pose, except the plush is squished between you and the railing, your cheek resting comfortably atop plush Spider-Man’s big adorable head. Something sad passes over Peter’s expression before he finally looks away, towards the beach, where the clouds rolling in from the horizon are darker. “Nah, ‘m not good at everything,” he repeats, quieter this time. 

You frown at the minute shift in mood. But just as you open your mouth to say something, he inhales a big breath and faces you again, smile back on his face. “Y’know, I wasn’t even popular in high school. Middle school too, matter of fact.”

You raised your head, disbelieving. “Shut up. Don’t lie to me, Peter.”

He laughs. “I swear! Girls barely knew I existed. I was bullied a lot.” He shrugged, standing straighter as he recalled his childhood. “Typical jock/nerd dynamic.”

You take in Peter’s tall, lean form. Standing at practically six-feet-tall with warm brown eyes, you can hardly imagine Peter going unnoticed by girls. All this time, you’ve been picturing a Peter from high school surrounded by giggling girls twirling their hair, fist-bumping boys in the halls. Not getting shoved into lockers or getting his head shoved into toilets.

Wait.

“Don’t tell me they gave you swirlies.”

“Once, actually, yeah.”

“Oh, Peter,” you gasp, hand coming up to cover your mouth. “Is that why your hair looks like that?”

Peter grins and lightly bumps your shoulder with his. “Hah, hah, very funny. I take it you were a bully, then? Insulting me like that?”

You continue like that, teasing and laughing and discussing the upcoming semester. The sunlight dwindles, sky becoming overcast as more clouds slowly roll in, becoming flat and gray. The temperature begins to cool as you make your way towards the rides, but you'd hardly notice with the warmth that surrounds you in Peter's presence.

The ferris wheel completely steals your attention from your conversation as you pass by it, head inclining to stare wistfully up at it. The green spindles and bright red lights outlining it illuminate splendidly against the backdrop of graying skies. You sigh, and then promptly come to a halt when you bump into Peter's chest.

“Oh! That's- I'm sorry,” you stammer, giggle, and then mentally chastise yourself for giggling as your cheeks fill with warmth.

“No, no, that's alright.” Peter brushes off your apology. “Ferris wheel's more interesting than me, I get it.” His playful tone eases away the sudden nervousness.

“I'm sorry,” you laugh, “I just- well, I've never been on a ferris wheel.” You look back at it, longing. “Don't laugh, but... I always thought it'd be romantic.”

Maybe it's all the books you've read that made you a little bit hopeless in that regard, but you've always fantasized about this exact kind of date. A couple on the ferris wheel, in their own little world overlooking the rest of the park or the ocean or the city -- wherever ferris wheels tend to be, you weren't picky about the view.

Suddenly, Peter has your hand in his. You’re too caught up in the feelings of his fingers against your own before you realize he’s leading you towards the Wonder Wheel. 

“Peter..?”

“C’mon, before they kick everyone out of the park.”

You’re not sure what he means until you realize there’s no one in line. So caught up were you in your little bubble that you hadn’t noticed people had started to leave, the crowd from earlier dwindling to a few stubborn stragglers. 

Peter pays for the ride and marches you both up to the sole employee letting the last of the ride-goers off. The man looks up at you both, boredly chewing gum, then eyes the sky.

“Looks like it’s gonna rain,” he says. 

“C’man, man. We paid.” Peter replies, and his tone takes on the familiar puppy-dog pleading that usually gets him his way. “Jus’ one ride around? Please?”

You bite your lip as you watch this guy’s resolve start to waver. 

The man sighs. “That’s usually how it works, kid.” His shoulders are already starting to drop, though, but he’s still got some fight left in him, apparently, because he shocks you by saying, “I’m sure there’s other spots you can make out with your girlfriend.”

“Oh, that’s not-” you stammer, “-we’re not-”

“Please?” Peter cuts you off, more persistent, a little pathetic, and incredibly fucking cute. “They haven’t even announced that the rides are closing down. We can still go on.”

You feel your whole face heat up over the fact that he didn’t correct either the girlfriend thing or the making out thing.

The guy hesitates, as if hoping for a perfectly timed announcement at that moment. When nothing but the cawing of seagulls fills the silence, he finally gives in and lets you on the ride.

Peter helps you into one of the stationary carts, not wanting to risk swinging back and forth with the wind starting to pick up. You settle in with Little Spidey--the nickname you decided on for your new plush--while Peter takes the seat on the other side.

The incline to the top isn’t as slow as you thought it’d be, but it’s still a soothing pace. You watch, mesmerized, through the bars of the Ferris Wheel as it brings you up and up, higher over the park. When you go to swivel your head to see the other side, you catch Peter looking at you from his seat across, head cocked to the side, gentle smile gracing his face. 

His attention immediately makes butterflies lurch in your stomach. It dawns on you that you are trapped in a metal box with Peter, and the space feels snug and intimate but it makes you feel too big. You're all too aware of the way your thighs spread out beneath you, and all you want to do is shrink in on yourself.

Peter, perceptive, notices the nervousness creeping back in. “Hey, you alright? Not afraid of heights, are you?”

You glance up into his eyes, can see the dark brush of his eyelashes and count the stray freckle and moles that dot his face, and it immediately feels overwhelming. “No, 'm fine,” you mumble, dropping your gaze.

You haven't felt this nervous around Peter since you first met nearly a year ago, his good looks and easy charm making his attention all too much to bear. It was very easy for feelings to develop when he kept talking to you, seeking you out for study sessions and pizza dates, consistently lifting you up whenever you felt down. Sure, he’d disappear sometimes or show up late others, but he still showed up. It’s what matters most to you.

“I don’t embarrass you, do I?” 

Despite the lighthearted tone, your eyes widen at the change in topic and you look back at him. “What? No, why would you say that?”

He’s grinning at you, but his hand comes up to his chest in mock pain. “Just that you were so quick to deny being my girlfriend down there. It kinda hurt.”

You try to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. “N-no, of course not! I just didn’t want you to feel embarrassed.”

The smile falls from his face, replaced by a confused knit of his brow. “Why would I be embarrassed?”

You snort. “Are you serious? Look at me.”

“I am lookin’ at you.” He’s frowning, utterly earnest.

“I’m jus’ not, like… girlfriend material, y’know? It’s happened before. Usually whatever guy I’m hangin’ out with gets all annoyed that anyone would even suggest such a thing.” You chuckle, trying to keep the mood light, trying to keep the pain out of your voice. It doesn’t hurt much now, anyway; Time doesn’t heal all wounds, but it can dull it some.

Something furious flashes across Peter’s face, darkening his eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this expression on him, the clench of his jaw, the quiet seething in the knit of his brow. He’s angry.

You’re about to apologize for upsetting him when he beats you to it. “I’m sorry anyone ever made you feel that way. Sounds like they were lousy, didn’t appreciate what an amazing person you are. Smart and funny and beautiful.”

The ferris wheel slows to a stop, leaving you cradled at the top of the Wonder Wheel, finding it difficult to catch your breath under the weight of Peter’s earnest gaze. Sometimes, like right now, his attention makes you ache because of how badly you always want it, convincing yourself that you don’t deserve it, or that it’s some kind of joke, too good to be true. Having Peter as just a friend is already special, but that craving for something more always kicks in and it feels like drowning.

“Pete,” you breathe, “that’s not fair.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You can’t- you can’t say stuff like that to me. It’s too nice.”

“But it’s true.”

When did he get so close? He’s leaning forward, forearms propped on his thighs, and you somehow find yourself pulled in by the gravity of his sincerity. You lose yourself in his eyes, chocolate quartz and tender. The scent of the sunscreen you made him wear fills the space between you, all warmed out by the day, baked into his skin. His lips are slightly parted, practically inviting…

Sudden bright light fills the sky, making the two of you rip away from each other. You look out and see the storm coming in heavy from out on the beach, rain pelting into the ocean and onto the now-empty shores. The clap of thunder that follows rattles you, making the ferris wheel shutter.

When you look back at Peter with wide-eyed terror, he’s attempting to peer down through the cage of the gondola. “Okay, he’s- he’s gonna get us down.” He looks back at you, attempts to soothe with a smile as the gondola jerks forward towards its unhurried descent. 

“Here.” Peter leans forward to grab Little Spidey and places him in your arms. “Jus’ hold on to that and we’ll be off this thing before y’know it.” He goes back to looking through the grate, fingers of one hand curled around the metal frame.

You automatically clutch the plush to your chest but then immediately feel overcome with flustered embarrassment. “Wh- I’m not a little girl, Peter!”

“What?” He glances away from the storm to look at you. “No, no I know,” he scrambles. “It’s just, you looked so scared-”

“I’m fine! I’m not scared-”

Lightning strikes down right then next to the ferris wheel, much too close for comfort, and you scream and flinch and bury your face against Little Spidey.

“Shit.” 

The ferris wheel shutters and moans to a stop. You peek up and notice the lights of the machine are no longer on. Peter looks agitated as he stares down through the grate. Your heart drops -- you’re stuck. You’re stuck in the middle of the storm, suspended however-many feet in the air -- at least a hundred -- and you don’t think you’ve ever been more scared in your life. 

Well, you think, looking out at the rest of the park, at the brutal skies, and then finally at Peter’s profile. At least the view’s not so bad.

Another clap of thunder rumbles overhead and around you, rain beating down mercilessly against your encasement. The ride creaks. Something’s wrong. You can tell by the change in Peter’s eyes. He may have been somewhat nervous this whole time, trying to put on a brave face for you, but there was a certain flash of fear that dashed across his eyes just now. You get the sense he’s realized something you haven’t yet. 

Maybe it’s that you were gonna die here. 

“No, we’re not dying here!”

Oh. You hadn’t realized you said that out loud. 

The unmistakable sound of groaning metal makes your heart stop. The gondola lurches slightly, slowly starts to tilt to the side. Did it come loose?

You shout Peter’s name through the downpour.

Despite the little space, Peter positions himself to stand at a bit of a crouch between the seats of the cart. One hand holds onto the metal slats while the other presses against the ceiling above for leverage, and he starts to kick at the door of the gondola. Once, twice, and it flings open at the third impact and out into the wind. 

Each kick had shaken the whole cabin. You sat extremely still, watching the whole thing, terrified that any sudden movement on your end would speed up this thing's fall.

Peter perches at the new opening, body leaning halfway out so he can grab onto a part of the still-standing rim, which doesn't seem to be falling apart the way everything on this side of the cart seems to be.

Peter holds out his free hand to you, palm up. He calls your name. “C'mon! Take my hand!”

You look at him like he's out of his damned mind. There's no way Peter, with his gangly long limbs, had any hope of lifting you out of here. Fear is the only thing that stops a manic laugh from warbling out of your throat.

“You gotta trust me, Sunshine.”

You stare at his outstretched hand, then glance up to his face, see the desperate plea in his eyes. It shatters your heart. He’s practically halfway out of the cart, can probably get down safely from here. But if you grabbed his hand, you’re worried you’d just weigh him down. Even if he could pull you to safety, wouldn’t it just slow him down? Turn the odds against your survival? You don’t want to be the reason Peter doesn’t make it. You couldn’t do that to sweet Aunt May. 

Yet you find yourself taking a trembling step forward. Because Peter told you to trust him, and before this you swear he was about to kiss you, and you decide then and there that you don’t want to die without getting a chance to kiss Peter.

Just as your hand raises to clasp Peter’s, the cabin lurches again, makes you wobble off balance. You gasp as Peter shouts, a wordless exclamation. When you find your footing again, realizing that you are not yet plummeting to certain death, you see Peter is somehow… he’s holding onto the cabin by the door frame with one hand, hanging onto the upright beam of the ferris wheel for leverage. Face contorted with strain. Arms trembling with effort. 

“Grab onto me!” He yells. “I can’t- can’t hold it for long, you gotta grab onto me!”

No longer wavering, you fling yourself at Peter and wrap your arms around his middle. That’s about as much bravery as you’re able to muster up with open eyes, so you squeeze them shut and quietly make sounds of teeth-clenched dread as rain and wind whip around you. 

Peter must let go of the cart because you feel his hands adjust you against him before one of them holds you closer and tighter to him, arm secure around your waist. It is the only thing that provides a small comfort as the windswept feeling of falling makes you bury your face in the crook of Peter’s neck.

The fall seems to last much longer than you think it should. Long enough to give way to something exhilarating in your belly, accompanying the fear and the cold. Long enough to feel a bit confused over the delayed impact, but you convince yourself it’s coming soon, maybe right this second, even, and nuzzle deeper into Peter’s hold for comfort.

Peter’s voice cuts through the wind and rain unexpectedly clear and close to your ear. “Hey, we’re okay. We’re fine now.”

You shiver, probably from the chill of the passing storm and not from the feeling of his warm breath against your skin, and slowly blink your eyes open to the dark hair plastered at the back of Peter’s neck. It takes another few seconds to realize that you are no longer falling, and that the ground is firmly planted on your feet. Or, vice versa. Either way, it’s such a dizzying relief of a revelation that you only slowly peel back away from Peter, afraid you might stumble without his support. 

You draw back far enough to scan Peter’s face. “How- what?” You glance around, find yourself tucked away between two small buildings. The rain has lightened to a soft, considerate drizzle. Looking back into Peter’s eyes, you finish asking, “Peter, how are we alive right now? How did we get down from the ferris wheel? Where is the ferris wheel?”

Peter chuckles, something nervous underlying the laughter. His arm falls away from your waist. You miss it immediately, but then his hands are on your cheeks, cradling your face. “There’s probably somethin’ I should tell you.”

His dulcet tone makes your cheeks tingle. An overwhelming emotion fills his gaze, and it worsens the dizzying feeling of being alive. Peter’s face is so close to yours, water droplets hanging from the wet strands of hair sticking to his brow, one clinging to the tip of his nose. His mouth is parted slightly, and he is breathtaking and dreamy and quite possibly the reason you’re still alive. 

“Wh-what’re you..?” 

Peter answers your breathless and incomplete question by closing the distance between your mouths. His lips slot against yours. His nose pokes your left cheek. It all feels so tender and almost impossible. 

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, I just-” he pulls back, but not very far, continues muttering against your mouth. “I thought I was gonna lose you, too-”

His lips trail upwards, brushes against your nose until they press against your forehead, and it somehow makes you feel more bashful than the kiss did. Something delicate and vulnerable bubbles up in the small space between you, makes the rain stop mattering.

“Pete,” you whisper, voice hoarse with emotion as you parrot his reassuring words from before. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

You stand there for a few moments, letting time dissolve around you as you mutter reassurances to each other, hands not leaving the other, touches filled with solace and just a little bit of selfishness. As your mind accepts that you are no longer in danger, something starts to click into place as dots connect. The Spider-Plush is still firmly clenched in your right fist, now sodden from the weather but otherwise intact. 

An amused snort distracts Peter enough to pull away from you and give you a curious look. The space allows you to take a look at the plush, its familiar colors and big white eyes and webbed face. You raise it next to Peter’s head, shaking it slightly, for emphasis. “This- This is you.”

Peter’s head falls forward, keeping his eyes downcast and away from yours. It wasn’t a question, of course, but he nods anyway. 

“You… Spider-Manned us to safety.”

Peter’s shoulders move with silent laughter before he raises his head again, grinning. “See?” He says. “I told you I wasn’t gonna let you die.”

The precious moment of reveling in each other’s safety finally gives way to bubbly amusement. “I didn’t think you’d be able to carry me!”

“Aw, c’mon, where’s my vote of confidence?”

“Peter. Peter, look at you, you’re like a stringbean.” 

Peter throws his head back in laughter, revealing his lovely long neck and Adam’s apple that you stare at, deciding it’s a well-deserved treat for your eyes.

“How was I supposed to know that you’d be able to bear my weight so easy?” You continue. “I’m not exactly light, Pete. I’m not… I’m not damsel-sized, y’know?”

Peter stops laughing. He looks at you, something smoldering and slightly mischievous darkening his gaze. His head drops just a bit, making his stare almost threatening as he walks towards you, starts backing you into the wall on your side of the alley. “Was easy for me. I’ll carry you anywhere.”

Heat floods your cheeks, the low tone and Peter’s closeness making your heart flutter. 

“C’mere.” His right hand falls to your waist again, pulling you towards him, making you gasp. He plants one more searing kiss against your lips, this one more certain and molten, before effortlessly whisking you away. 

You spend the evening huddled up in your bedroom, eating soup and fighting back a cold and sharing a blanket with Peter Parker, who is so much more than a Boy and a Friend.

[agent-tempest]

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[blackwidownat2814]

🥹🥹

you know i'll be seeking if you run and hide

Pairing: tasm!peter parker x virgin!plus size!f!reader

Summary: peter helps you through a panic attack, and reminds you it's okay to open up to him

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+!!!! NSFW!!! panic attacks, general insecurity, virgin reader but not really loss of virginity, oral (f receiving), hurt/comfort

Words: 2.5k

A/N: fic requested by @tearybuttrying !! I wasn't sure if they wanted me to put in the req word for word but the gist of it was virgin plus size peter comforting the reader during a panic attack and a little smutty hurt comfort :) title is from the lucy dacus song triple dog dare. hope you enjoy!

(it's late here so this is pretty roughly edited, I'll fix up any bits later :))

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You hadn't seen it coming.

It was just one of those days, too many little things sticking together to build and build and build, a shotty patchwork of minor inconveniences congealing into something bigger. It sits heavy in the centre of your chest, tightens everything up until you're sitting with your shoulders hunched on the subway ride home counting breaths, trying not to focus on the oppressing noise of people pressing in at all sides.

By the time you're at the front door you're fumbling with the key, hands trembling and chest tight and nausea settling deep in the pit of your stomach.

And then you're in your apartment, back pressed against the front door with a shaky exhale, and Peter Parker is in your living room.

He matches your expression as soon as he sees you, concern pinching together his eyebrows and tugging down the corners of his lips. "Hey, are you-"

"I just need a minute." You croak it out, somehow, fight against the quick constriction of your throat to manage the excuse. You can't bring yourself to look at him as you walk past, make a b line for the bathroom and slam the door.

The cool whiteness of the walls and the tiles are a momentary relief to the inexplicable heat surging through your body. The silence helps, too, makes things feel a little less suffocating, but it's nowhere near enough to soothe that feeling in your chest.

There's a quiet knock behind you, makes you flinch away from the door because God- Peter seeing you like this was not what you needed right now.

Your first thought is hide. Hide somewhere, anywhere in this stupidly tiny bathroom where Peter won't be able to find you, where you won't have to look at him with bleary eyes and see the inevitable pity on his face.

You wished you could fold yourself up, close in on yourself until you were small enough to slot in somewhere nobody would ever find you. But this is New York, and you only have the one physical form, so your next best option is the slump against the side of the tub, legs drawn tightly against your chest and your face in your hands.

"Oh, honey. Hey, it's okay. What's wrong?" He's there in an instant, perched above you on the edge of the tub with an arm around your shoulders, hand immediately rubing soothing circles into your back.

"It's just a little-" Tightness again, cutting you off, pulls you deeper and deeper into an unsteady rhythm. "- A little panic attack, I'll be fine."

"Hey, hey, I got you, everything's gonna be okay." Peter's next to you now, hand on your wrist trying to open you up to him, eyebrows pinched together in concern when your welling eyes finally meet his. "Let me help, yeah? Remember what we did last time?"

You dip your head, swallow thickly before you can get any words out, his hand at your chin tilting your face back up to him. "Breathing," You mutter, take a deep breath in as soon as you do, try to steady the airflow as you exhale. "It's the breathing."

"Yeah, that's right, good job. You wanna do it with me?"

You have to swallow, nodding quickly, try to ignore the separate ache in your chest, the one brought on by how tenderly he's looking at you, the concern in his eyes.

"Okay, we're gonna do in for five, hold for five, and out-" Your jaw is trembling beneath his hand, and he can see the narrowing of your eyes where tears are threatening to overflow. "Hey, you're doing so good, baby. We're just gonna breathe in, okay? Come here."

And then his arms are around you, pulls you in until your face is in the crook of his neck and your chest is prest against his. You feel the slow, rising pressure against you, start to inhale along with him, focus on his quiet counting against your ear.

Hold it in.

One Mississippi.

Peter's a furnace around you, emanates a deep warmth that heats you through, slowly starts to melt you into the cool tile of the bathroom.

Two Mississippi.

Peter smells like you. He smells like your body wash, the sweetness of pomegranate and hibiscus mixed with the lavender essential oils you use to help you sleep. He smells familiar, smells like home, brings a wave of comfort heavy enough to start to fight off the mess of the last 24 hours.

Three Mississippi.

Peter's holding his breath, too. His chest is still against yours, steady, solid, an anchor making sure you don't float away.

Four Mississippi.

Peter pulls away, and he's looking at you like you've got the sun and the moon and a field full of puppies in your eyes. He's searching and searching and searching, looking for an open window or an unlocked door that could let him into your messy, beautiful brain, that could show him what you're thinking even for a moment.

Five Mississippi.

You both exhale at the same time, the intermingling of warm breath in the small gap between you. Peter nods slowly, gives you the faintest of smiles, brings his hand back up to cup your cheek. "Better?"

Your next exhale is still a little shaky, but you can feel the slow unwind of the tightness in your chest, slowly remember how to breathe again. You nod, swallow down the thick knot in your throat.

When you dip your head next Peter doesn't stop you, lets you close your eyes and continue trying to steady your breathing with your forehead rested against his shoulder.

There's a long beat of silence. "Thank you for putting up with me."

"Hey," He starts, pulls back a little so you have to look at him, brushes away the dampness on your cheeks as he cups your face in his hands. "It's not putting up with you if I want to help."

You close your eyes again, lean into his touch as you count through another set of breaths.

Peter's leaning in, too, moves to press his forehead against yours. "You know how much I care about you, right?" His voice is whisper-quiet, stay close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath against your lips. "You don't have to keep hiding away from me."

You stay silent for a moment, savour the contact of his skin against yours. "Sometimes I'm afraid if you see me you won't like what you find."

He has to look at you with that, shakes his head but doesn't pull away. "You are the kindest, bravest, most beautiful person I have ever met. You never have to worry about that, because there is not a single part of you I don't want to know."

It might be this, you think, above all of that stuff from minutes before, that really makes you want to cry. And so you stave it off, lean in to close the tiny gap left between you and press a soft kiss to his lips.

It stays like that for a while, when Peter kisses you back, both of you suspended in the quiet tenderness of the moment, this blooming affection that charges the air.

You smile when Peter deepens it a little, lips curving against his, and he breathes a light laugh. "There she is." His lips are trailing along your jaw now, slides down your throat to the crook of your neck. "There's my girl."

"Pete..."

"Do you want me to stop?"

He's looking at you again, still so close, still so gentle and kind and understanding, and if it were any other night you probably would have said yes, pulled away and buried yourself in your thoughts and stopped it before it got too far. But tonight, you just shake your head. "I don't want to keep hiding."

His lips are back on yours in a heartbeat, picks up the heavy rhythm of it, kisses you and kisses you until your back is being pressed against the sturdy acrylic of the tub and you suddenly remember where you are.

"Pete."

"Mhm?''

"We're still on the floor."

Peter's the one smiling now, grins at you between kisses. "C'mon then."

His lips never leave yours as he leads you to your bedroom, guides you with a hand at your waist and the other at the nape of your neck, tilting you up into him.

By the time he's settling you onto the bed that voice has started to creep back in, the one telling you to cover up, to keep to yourself, reminds you that nothing has ever gone this far before.

He must notice, feel it in the tensing of your body beneath him. "Hey, where'd you go?"

The room is dim, but it's still light enough that you can read the worry in his eyes, the sincerity of it. "I've just never... Done anything like this before."

"I know, baby, it's okay. Just let me take care of you, yeah?"

It's softer when he kisses you next, wraps you up in the sweetness of it, drives your mind devoid of anything else until you feel his fingers slip under the hem of your shirt.

It makes you shudder a little, but you don't stop him, just nod when questioning eyes find yours to ask permission.

You lift your arms to help the swift removal of the fabric, and when your back is against the mattress again Peter's kissing down the column of your throat, travels down and down and down, finds the valley of your breasts and the curve of your stomach, hands slipping down to grasp at the plump flesh of your hips. "So beautiful."

He doesn't flinch away, not like that awful little voice had warned you he would, worships every inch of you and mutters quiet praise against your skin until he's reached the waist of your jeans.

"Is this okay?" He asks, still careful, cautious of your reaction or any indication you want him to stop.

But you don't want him to stop, you definitely don't want him to stop, not when you nod and deft fingers are unbuttoning your jeans. He's kneeling now, leans back against his heels to slip the denim down your legs.

When he comes back down his breath is warm against the inside of your thigh, the sensation sending a shiver up your spine. "Gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?" You gasp at the question, not aided by the little lovebites he's been planting against the softness of your thighs. The response makes him smile, devilishly triumphant as one hand comes up to tease the hem of your panties down just a little. "Been thinking about it for so long. Bet you taste so sweet, honey."

"Yes," You breathe, can't help the way your back arches into his touch. His fingers are still hooked under the thin fabric, the last barrier to having him touch you just the way you need him, grazing feather-light against your skin as he tugs them down inch by inch. "Please."

"Good girl."

Whatever you thought it would feel like, there was no way you could have prepared for it feeling like this.

Peter's mouth is on you, hot and wet and knows exactly what to do, knows how to build you up with just his tongue and his lips around your clit and his fingers anchoring you to him as they dig into your hips.

"Fuck, Pete-"

A hum of acknowledgement against your clit, sends a jolt of fiery pleasure through your entire body until your legs a trembling and your hands are twisted into the bedsheets. "Feel good, baby? Doing so well for me."

Peter's looking at you, a devil between your legs, watches your face as he slowly slips one finger inside you, the immediate slack of your jaw only tightening the strain in his pants.

The next attachment of his mouth to your cunt makes you gasp, a moan of his name as a second finger joins the first deep inside you.

You think you're done for the second he starts curling those fingers, finds a part of you you didn't know existed, that you clearly hadn't been able to find yourself.

He must be able to tell it's too much, the clench of your walls as another gasp tumbles from your lips, the velvet fluttering around his fingers.

"That's it, baby. I got you, let go for me."

And this feeling, the one that washes over you with another tight swipe of his tongue, that presses your hips against him as you writhe in his grasp, is certainly a new one, is entirely different to the feelings confined to lonely nights in your bedroom.

Peter rides you through it, slows his fingers and kisses your swollen clit your breathing starts to slow again.

When you're settled Peter kisses his way back up your body, smiles when he finds your lips still parted.

"Good?"

"I-" Your brain is still a little foggy, can't seem to put together a tangible sentence or even pick full words out of the cloud, and so you opt to breathe a laugh, lean up to kiss him hard. The taste of yourself in his mouth is intoxicating.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Definitely a yes."

"Good." It's back to how it was now, shared smiles pressed into soft kisses and warm breath. "I think we better get some dinner in you after all that."

"You don't wanna keep going?" You ask, and he watches the confusion laced in the pinch of your eyebrows.

He brings his hand up to cup your cheek, soft against your skin. "Hey, it's not that I don't want to, it's just... Baby steps, yeah?"

You're biting the inside of your lip, can't help you smile when Peter's thumb slides down to tug at your bottom lip, opens you back up to him. "Yeah."

"Just don't go hiding from me again," He mutters, smiles into yet another blissfully soft kiss.

"I promise, you found me."

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[moonstruckme]

tasm!Peter Parker Drabbles

☁︎ = headcanon ✩ = 18+, mdni ♡ = mae's favs

Peter x crybaby!reader ☁︎

Peter on a fall day ☁︎

Peter remembers that your love language is physical touch

Peter comforts you when your friends ditch you

Science student!Peter x art student!reader ♡

Photographer!Peter x reporter!reader

Peter comforts you when you're feeling touched starved

Bodyguard!Peter cannot focus if you keep touching him

Peter wants to kiss you (even when at his own risk) ♡

Peter x protective!reader

You flirt with Spiderman

Science student!Peter has a study date with art student!reader

Peter realizes he's in love with his best friend

Peter cannot focus on decorating for the holidays

Peter (gently) forces you to stop working

Bodyguard!Peter is unwillingly charmed by you (again) ♡

You come out to Peter as enby

Peter doesn't want you to apologize

Peter takes care of you when you're sick

Peter wants to personally avenge your uterus ♡

Peter sees your sh scars

You and Peter reunite after doing long-distance ♡

A sweaty summer day with Peter ♡

Peter brings plus size!reader flowers

Peter sneaks into bed

You and Peter are high and in love

Peter helps you relax before a big exam ♡

Peter mends clumsy!reader's clothes

Peter has heart eyes for whimsical!reader

Peter has an unconventional first meeting with artist!reader

Peter is (somewhat) comforting when you're hungover

Peter is hot and smart (as usual) in a criminal minds crossover

Peter doesn't want you to feel lonely

You flinch when Peter gets heated

You're insecure of your big boobs, and Peter is appalled ♡

Peter wants to help with your nighttime anxiety

Spiderman follows you home

You worry about Peter

Peter's too lovely for you to take

Whimsical!reader reads Peter's palm

Peter teaches you to get by without him ✩

[marie-swriting]

Need More Fanfics ? Part.2

Marvel

Killer (Kate Bishop x reader) by @upat4amwiththemoon

Vigilante Shit | Part two (Kate Bishop x BlackHill!reader) by @upat4amwiththemoon

Clint's Stray (Kate Bishop x reader) by @maximoffsmuse

Never Let Go (Kate Bishop x reader) by @lightupthemoon

Frost Covered Window (Kate Bishop x reader) by @mayfieldss

The Scrapbook of You and I (Kate Bishop x reader) by deactivated account

Unpacking (Carol Danvers x reader) by @yelenasdiary

Care Bear (Carol Danvers x reader) by @captains-simp

Home For Christmas (Bucky Barnes x reader) by @onceuponastory

In Every Lifetime (Bucky Barnes x reader) by @wkemeup

Bi (Bucky Barnes x daughter!reader) by @alyswritings

I've Got You (Bucky Barnes x reader) by @onceuponastory

Lessons In Chemistry (TASM!Peter Parker x reader) by @mayfieldss

Black Velvet (Natasha Romanoff x reader) by @imtryingbuck

Society Says (Steve Rogers x Tall!reader) by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Nice To Be Kneaded (Steve Rogers x reader) [serie masterlist] by @rogersideup

Thirty-Two Years (Sam Wilson x reader) by @thepokyone

Criminal Minds

Starry Night (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @criminalmindswhore

Secret Santa (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @max-the-d0g

I Guess Sometimes We All Get Just What We Wanted (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @bi-bard

Untitled (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @reidsdaisies

My Favorite Medicine Is You (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @ssa-sugar-tits

Leave It At The Door (Emily Prentiss x plus size!reader) by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Minors do not interact as the author wishes!)

Wandering Hands (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @emilys-bangs

Showing The Bird (Spencer Reid x daughter!reader) by @letarasstuff

Sneaking Out (Derek Morgan x daughter!reader) by @rachaelswrites

Top Gun

My Heart Will Go On (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader), Titanic AU by @averagewriter-inthedark (⚠️TW : deaths and light smut, Minors do not interact as the author wishes!)

Driving Home From Christmas (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader) by @callsign-phoenix

Sweetest Devotion (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader) by @sometimesanalice

Don't Mess With The Storm (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader) by @mamsieur

G-Lock Too Far (Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x reader) by @frost-queen

Let Your Senses Guide You (Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x reader) by @topguncortez (⚠️TW : panic attack)

Untitled (Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x reader) by @callsign-phoenix

Making You Proud (Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x daughter!reader) by @justabigassnerd

Nice Guys Always Finish Last (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader) [serie masterlist] by deactivated account

Outer Banks

Thunder = Luke (JJ Maybanks x sister!reader) by @alyswritings (⚠️TW : mention of abuse)

Supernatural

Those Christmas Lights (Light Up The Street) (Dean Winchester x child!reader) by @yourmomxx

I'll Always Cath You (Dean Winchester x sister!reader) by @winchesters-favorite-girl

Stranger Things

Fall For You (Chrissy Cunningham x reader) by @tommiruewrites

Say You Want Me Too (Robin Buckley x reader) by @sparklingsin

Come Into The Water (Robin Buckley x reader) by deactivated account

Kissing Lessons (Robin Buckley x reader) by @jellyfishbeansontoast

Favorite Song (Steve Harrington x sister!reader) by @alyswritings

Bridgerton

Angel In The Sky (Benedict Bridgerton x reader) by @inkedobsidian

Enchantment (Benedict Bridgerton x reader) by deactivated account

Joy (Benedict Bridgerton x reader) by @redheadspark

Pinkish Clouds (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) by @d-targaryenshoe