#the amazing spider man blurb

[moonstruckme]

James Potter or tasm!peter parker fluff or comfort?? I dont mind whatever you write ill love 🙏🙏

Thanks for requesting :)

cw: implied past abuse

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Peter’s having a rough week. These things always seem to happen to him. He’s got a big presentation at work on Friday, by which time the project he’s been underfunded and understaffed for has to be finished. His Aunt May has been busy with work, too, so either you or Peter is at her place most nights trying to help out, except she seems to think when it’s Peter it’s familial responsibility but when it’s you it's an unfair burden, so it’s mostly been Peter. There’s also an impressively organized cell of criminals he’s been trying to investigate before they blow up a bank or something. So of course, he’s sleep deprived to boot. 

And while you know the rough edge of frustration in his voice isn’t meant for you, hearing it makes your skin tighten nonetheless. 

“How does a person run out of salt?” Peter stalks through the front door and straight into the kitchen. “Or maybe the better question is, why does it take going to three bodegas to find one with salt in stock?”  

He’s soaked from the rain, and you feel guilty for being all cozied up on the couch while he’s been running around the city. Maybe it’s irrational, but you feel sort of like you should have been stressed out and cold all night, too. In solidarity. 

“May didn’t have salt?” you guess as Peter opens the fridge, stooping low to peer inside. 

“You should see her pantry, babe. It’s like everything either expired at the turn of the century or got bugs in it. Hey, did you make anything for dinner?” 

“No.” You hesitate. “You told me you wanted to eat at May’s, so I had the leftovers from last night.” 

“Shit.” He closes the fridge, resting his forehead on the door. “You’re right. I totally forgot, I only made enough for her.” 

“I’ll make something now.” You stand. Peter gives you a look that conveys both apology and gratitude as you join him in your small kitchen. “You feel like pasta?” 

“Thank you,” he says, kissing the top of your head lightly. 

“Course,” you murmur. Really, it feels like the least you can do. “Would you mind chopping up some basil?” 

“For my own dinner?” Peter teases. The levity in his voice is obviously forced, and the air between you heavies as he realizes you’ve heard it too. 

You almost don’t want to ask, but you do want to be a supportive girlfriend. You can lend him a compassionate ear. “How was work today?” 

He sighs, grabbing the cutting board from a cabinet near your feet and shutting the door with perhaps a tad too much force. 

“It was…ahh.” He scrubs a hand through his hair, stooping again into the white fridge light to find the basil. It casts dark shadows underneath his eyes. “You’ve gotta be sick of hearing about this.” 

“It’s okay. Unless you don’t feel like talking about it.” 

“No, it’s just, how do they expect us to stick to their tight schedule when half of my lab is being pulled away to other projects all the time?” Peter’s knife slices through the basil, hitting the cutting board with a sharp thunk. “Today, we were down one intern who caught the stomach flu, and it set us way back. One intern shouldn’t be that crucial to a big project like this!” 

You hum, ignoring the way the back of your neck prickles. The tension emanating from Peter is completely valid, your reaction a bothersome, purposeless souvenir from an old life. You find yourself staring into the pot of water and waiting for it to boil. 

“And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but all the rest of us are working extra hours to try and get this done in time.” 

Small bubbles in the bottom of the pot, rising tentatively to the surface. Peter’s knife thunks a quickening rhythm on the cutting board. 

“If they’d given us the money we asked for, we could have hired more people, been working with better equipment, but instead—” The water starts to rumble, steam warming your face. It’s thick in your throat. “—it’s like we don’t even work for a top-notch lab. Like, do they think we really believe they don’t have any resources to spare?”

Peter’s voice is rising, irritation sharpening his words. You reach to turn down the stove when big bubbles reach the surface, splattering hot onto your wrist. You ignore the sting. 

“My boss keeps talking about how important this presentation is,” Peter goes on, opening the cabinet next to your head and reaching inside, “but if it were really important, he’d have—” He slams the cabinet door. 

You both freeze. 

To anyone else, it would look like nothing—the way your expression stays perfectly still, your muscles stiffening just slightly, the invisible pause in your heartbeat. But Peter knows you. 

“Sorry.” He sounds as breathless as you feel. “I’m sorry. You okay?” 

“Mhm.” Despite your best intentions, your voice comes out pitchy. You can’t make yourself move in a way that feels natural, so you stay not moving at all. Steam wafting warm up onto your face. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Peter says, tone softer than you’ve heard it in days. “I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to yell.” The roiling pot has calmed to a gurgle. You can see him swallow in your peripheral vision. “Can you look at me?” 

You take in what you hope is a subtle breath, turning to your boyfriend with a wan smile. “Sorry,” you manage. “I don’t know why I did that.” 

“It’s okay,” he says, brows bunched in the middle. Brown eyes like a puppy’s. 

He shifts his arms, a question, and you step into them. You do it more for him than for you, but the second Peter’s arms wrap around your back the last of the tension shudders out of you. You hug him back, rubbing between his shoulder blades reassuringly. 

“I scared you?” he asks, still in that soft voice like he’s afraid of startling you. It’s not really a question. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get so mad.” 

“You’re allowed to be mad,” you argue weakly. There’s an embarrassing blockage in your throat. “It’s not your fault if I freak out, you should still be allowed to vent.” 

“No, but I know how you are.” Peter squeezes your shoulders. “I can vent without slamming things. It’s not nice.” 

You don’t have much of an argument for that. Still, “You really shouldn’t be the one comforting me right now,” you point out. 

A light hum. “Says who? I’m feeling a lot better already.” His hand climbs up to cup the back of your neck, his face turning down so his lips rest on your head. “Should’a just gone straight for the hug when I got home. Might have saved us both a lot of ranting.” 

You push your face into his sweatshirt, mindless of its dampness. He smells like rainwater. You don’t know how you could ever have thought, even for a second, that someone like this could be capable of hurting you. 

“I’ll make a note of that,” you murmur. 

“Yeah, please do,” Peter teases, pressing a kiss to your head. He pulls away and sets two still-chilled hands on your face. “Are you really okay?” he asks sincerely. “I know how scared you get, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I did that to you.” 

“You didn’t mean to,” you tell him, “and it wouldn’t be your fault anyways. I’m really okay.” 

Your boyfriend nods, but he still looks troubled. “Another hug for good measure?” 

“For you or for me?” 

A corner of his mouth kicks up. “Does it matter?” 

It doesn’t really.

[iridescentparkers]

lavender haze •.˚⚘ ⋆.*.ゞ

a/n - i thought this was so funny as i was doing this exact thing! no warnings just fluff.

“INFUSED WITH LAVENDER AND CHAMOMILE,” Peter announced in your bathroom, reading the container of your eye gel patches you used before bed each night. “Whatever, these don’t work.”

“Who told you that?” you giggled, using the jade roller to set them on your face as you looked at Peter in the bathroom mirror. 

“Science,” he said confidently, looking at you in the bathroom mirror. “Companies try to fool you with big words and cutesy smells.” 

“Well, these big words and cutesy smells make my eyes less puffy and relax me before bed.” You laughed. 

“You don’t even need this dumb stuff,” he informed, dropping the packaging. “You already look stunning.” 

He stood at your side and wrapped his hand along your waist as he peppered kisses around your face before nuzzling into your neck, “I’m going to get some sleep, and you should start investing in some real sleep remedies.” 

AFTER A LATE NIGHT, you dragged the balls of your high heels to your apartment door, opening it before throwing down your painfully cheap heels that needed to be trashed. 

You were still sober despite the rampant club scene you left and trembling at your bedroom door. 

Swinging the door open, Peter was sleeping deeply on his side of your bed. His suit was still halfway on, and he had barely made it under the covers. He was lying on his stomach, his cheek squished into the pillows, and his mouth hung slightly open.

Giggling to yourself, you sat next to him, rubbing a hand on his back to let him know you were home. Mid circle, you stopped, looking at the bright purple stripes underneath his eyes. 

“What are these,” you whispered, tapping the two lavender stripes. 

He didn’t move but spoke up softly, “Fine, you were right.”

“About?” You asked sarcastically, pursing your lips upwards as his eyes remained shut. 

“I got home at 12 and was headed to bed before I saw them lying on the sink.” He began, opening his eyes and wiping the slight drool before he came to a seated position. “I put these on just to test them out, and I guess.. I passed out.”

He gestured towards the eye patches, and you giggled at his frown accompanied by his tired expression. “It’s just the lavender smell, I swear.” 

You kissed his cheek before moving to your bathroom, “Maybe, just this once, science was wrong after all.”

[maiiuelle]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

“where are you going?” you question, hands gripping the base of your turtleneck sweater.

“i just figured i’d crash on the couch?” peter looks at you confused from your bedroom doorway, pointing down the hall behind him with his thumb.

“when have you ever slept on the couch?”

“i mean, i don't know — since we’re not official anymore?”

“you’re not sleeping on the couch, peter.” you laugh under your breath, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it haphazardly into your overflowing laundry basket. you pluck a sweatshirt from your dresser drawer, pushing it closed with your hip.

“well, now I’m not.” he stares at you, practically panting like he’s never seen you in a bra before, until his eyes focus on the window he just snuck in through. “jesus, close the blinds! do you always strip in front of the whole neighborhood?” he limps over to it, pulling the blinds down and webbing them shut.

“wouldn’t you like to know,” you move to push off your jeans next, but you pause. “are you going to go feral if i change in front of you?”

“no! no, no, nope — self-control is my middle name.” your ex-boyfriend dramatically turns around, making a show of dropping himself onto your bed and covering his eyes. though, he parts his fingers to peek through at you, and you can’t help but giggle.

what’s the difference anyway? he’s seen it all before. you turn your back to him, pulling your jeans off and kicking them into the corner of the room. you feel his eyes on you as you pull on a pair of sleep shorts — tying them loosely and leaning over to flick off the lights.

you don’t make it far before he’s on you, his hands snaking around your stomach to pull you against him.

“peter—”

“you know, now that i think about it, benjamin is my middle name,” he laughs in your ear, breath shaky against your neck. your head falls back to rest against his shoulder, “not — uh self-control.”

peter’s anxious breathing turns into a frustrated sigh, his hands roaming up and down your torso — slowly finding their way to your hips, using them as handles to keep you pushed flush against him.

“mm, so we’re really still not official? because this feels official.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

[irndad]

TULIP WITH THE GUY EVER

this is for peter!! im feral for this man my god this is long for nothing happening- guys i am SO fucking rusty prompt: an act of affection so blatant everyone notices roommate!peter <;3 flower prompts

It’s hard not to look at her. 

There’s so much to observe, so much to place his attention on- how she smiles, the way she taps the sides of her mugs before she sips her tea. She’s a vision in red lipstick and he’s the kind of person that’s blessed to be in her presence. 

It’s a Friday night, and there’s a sweet sort way that she curls into herself. She’s been his friend for just about a minute longer than he’s been in love with her, and he’d like to think he does a decent job at hiding this fact.

He landed on his hip today, from a height far enough off the ground that it still hurts, pain radiating from every step as he walks home. The commute is actually quite far from his internship at the newspaper, but he likes the area he lives, and the woman whose company he keeps while he lives there. He makes concessions. 

Still, he’d been looking forward to the sight of her since the ache began. Her presence had a way of soothing. 

She’s curled up onto an inherited recliner in their shared apartment, and when he bursts their creaky door open in a fluid motion, he’s greeted with this sight. She’s not alone- some friends from her graduate program on their Ikea couch. 

It’s girls night, and it’s his dutiful role to say a quick quip and head back to his room. Her two best friends are over, legs splayed over each other in an open display of affection that he adores witnessing. He could hear the laughter and yelling from outside the apartment itself. He likes how they make her laugh, how they seem to make her heart lighter when he can tell she’s not able to carry the weight of everything by herself. 

“Peter!” She’s the first to even notice he’s around, and he tries not to let the stubborn firework in his chest keep exploding at the thought of it. At the thought, she sees me. Her voice is warm and kind and weightless, and he drinks in  the sight of her. Their floor lamp illuminates her in warm golden light, a coupe glass with red wine held in delicate fingers. 

“Hey, you,” he replies, an unmistakable warmth he can’t seem to rid himself of in his tone. He tries not to seem disappointed, like he’d not been imagining watching an irrelevant TV show, a little too close together until they’d fallen asleep just that way.

As he’s hanging his withered coat, he asks, “What are you guys up to tonight?”

Her friend explains that they are watching the Spy Kids trilogy in order, and she nods dutifully along. 

“That sounds wonderful,” he can’t help but laugh. “I’ll leave you guys be-“ 

And it’s no surprise, when they send a him a chorus of please join, and you’re welcome to be here! 

She stands up to give him a hug goodnight (because she wants to kill him), and he envelops her before he can stop himself. She smells like a mixture of lavender and rose and sweet red wine, and he’s grateful for his heightened senses for a moment; it doesn’t take long to memorize it all. 

It occurs to him that he won’t see her until morning, and he takes in the sight of her again, eyes raking over her. She really is beautiful- lovely in a way that radiates her smile, follows her in action. His hands rest on the curve of her waist, and something and things being made to fit one another cross his mind, against his better judgement. God, he could spend forever looking at her, longer touching her. 

He only pulls away when he hears a muffled pair of laughs, failed attempts at not interrupting a moment. Which is absurd, because there is no moment. None. 

She beams at him despite the laughter of those she holds dear, and it aches saying goodbye to her. She's just down the hall and it hurts to leave.

He slinks off to his bedroom smelling like her perfume, blushing bright red and maybe, just maybe, the tiniest bit hopeful. And he thinks he might of heard the faint whisper of two other people, whispering questions he mulls over every day.

"Just roommates, huh?"

[spiderfunkz]

heyy could you do a peter parker blurb based on him asking you out on the last day of school? i love ur writing btw

✧ LOVE ON A LAST DAY.

summary : someone has a pretty crush on you!

word count : 0,7k

contains : fluff, fem!reader, super cutesy stuff.

a/n : next month i'll be graduating so this prompt is actually perfect omg omg, thank u for requesting anon i hope u like this !!! 🤭 i used the word 'smile' so much in this i apologize

"hey, peter!"

you waved cheerfully,

it was the last day of school. the final bell just rang and everyone is running out of the building yelling, cheering, crying, and smiling. papers were scattered, pens fell out of backpacks, shirts were signed, and flowers were exchanged.

you were going to hangout with your friends but that's when you spot peter at the end of the hall. hair messy, backpack full, his hands were in his pocket, he looked very nervous.

but you weren't going to leave him alone like that, it's been a while since you two have catched up.

you have been friends since middle-school, but as friends do, they drift apart, though you've never lost that spark with peter. you loved his company & he loved yours.

"hi!" peter waved.

you catch up to him, "hey, i didn't see you anywhere today! you haven't gotten a chance to sign my jacket yet. here," you pass a marker.

"i saved you a spot to sign." he nods, signing it.

you smile, "aw, this looks perfect."

he smiles too, he seems to be very smiley every time he's around you.

sometimes he forgets that you can see how much he smiles when he's near you, or how you can see that he's clearly staring at you.

"what? do i have something on my face?" you rub your cheek,

"oh, no. no you don't, sorry."

"you sure?"

he nods.

"you're weirdly quiet. you okay? i'm still going to the same college as you if that's what you're worrying about," you giggle.

peter has always loved how easy you are to talk to. in a way that there's never awkward pauses between conversations, and how your smile makes everything feel so calm and nice.

"i know. i just, uh-" he fiddles with something in his pocket, "there's something i wanna say, if that's okay."

"yeah, why wouldn't it not be okay?"

he shakes his head, smiling.

he passes you a picture from his pocket along with a small flower he picked.

you take it, your hand softly brushing his hand for a second.

it was a picture he took 2 months ago. you remember the day very well.

it was hot, awfully hot for new york. there were no clouds, the skies were clear and everybody was talking about it. how eager they are to take a walk and how excited they are to enjoy time outside.

though you and peter wanted nothing more but to stay inside, but this doesn't happen everyday. so why not try your best to enjoy it?

you were at the park and just finished your 2nd cup of lemonade (it was peter's), peter brought his camera for memories. your hair kept sticking to your face and it didn't help that you were smiling a ton so it got in your lipgloss as well.

suddenly wind came and flew past you. the air felt cool for a second and your hair went all over your face, you still smiled though.

peter saw and took a picture immediately, the sun perfectly leaving a glow on your hair, also giving your lips a nice glow.

"did you just take a picture?" he quickly shook his head, "yes you did! let me see!" — "no! i know you're just gonna delete it."

you finally saw the picture. at the bottom you can see a handwritten note on it. a beautiful day with the most beautiful girl!

"peter, this is so cute. you- you took this?" you asked, he nods shyly.

you couldn't hide the fact that your face grew red. "i was wondering... if maybe the most beautiful girl in the world would like to maybe.. like to.. go out with me sometimes..?"

peter said, whispering the last few words, looking down at his shoes, the doodled converses you once drew on.

you smile, "i'd love to."

he looks up, shocked. "really?"

"yeah! i mean all of this coming from the most prettiest, talented, caring boy in the world? how could i say no?" you smile, teasingly.

peter smiles.

he thinks for a second before taking the small flower from your hands and tucking it behind your ear, "pretty." he says, stated actually.

"so are you going to walk me home now, most beautiful boy in the world?" you ask. he nods almost immediately, "absolutely, most perfect girl in the world."

you walk outside the building, your hand holding his.

"just so you know i'm gonna draw a big red heart around your signature on my jacket."

[3vergr3en]

Earn it.

_______________________

Author’s Note: I have the biggest, most fattest crush on Andrew Garfield. LIKE LOOK AT HIM. Also, if there are any mistakes, I did not proofread this 💀

Summary: Harry is hosting a birthday party for his best friend, Peter. Everything runs smoothly until Y/N’s best friend back in high school shows up and start flirting with the female. Oblivious Y/N doesn’t think much of it, being used to such playful manner. But Peter can see through the man’s facade, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

Paring: Fem!Reader x TASM!Peter Parker

Genre: Smut with little plot.

Word Count: 2.9K

Additional Info: Public sex, unprotected sex (PLEASE WRAP IT), nipple play, orgasm control, Peter has an obvious breeding kink, cream pie, choking, teasing, profanity, name-calling, humiliation, dirty talk, jealousy, established marriage.

_______________________

“Thank you for coming! Please grab some champagne and the appetizers are over towards the left.” You inform with a smile, using your hands to help direct the couple towards the section. You continued on saying the same phrase for the majority, apart from times where you had thrown in a couple different sentences such as, ‘You guys look amazing tonight”, ‘Oh my, I haven’t seen you in so long!’, and ‘Oh thank you, Peter helped me pick out this dress.’

But one familiar fellow caught your attention, “Oh my god, Mark is that you?” You question as your jaw hung low in shock, your eyes widening twice in size. “I’m surprised you still remember me.” The black-haired man laughs as he walks up to you, extending his arms out as an indication for a hug, “How could I not? We spent our entire high school years together!” You exclaim, embracing the latter into your arms. You received a nice, firm hug from the male in return. “God, I missed you.” Mark chuckles, using one of his hands to caress the bare skin on your back through your long, velvet black backless dress. “I missed you as well. I tried contacting you after graduation, but—“ You pulled away.

“I got a new phone, and all of my contacts didn’t save unfortunately.” Mark explains as he held your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing in circular motions on the back of your hands. “You look gorgeous, by the way. You’ve always have been, since high school to now.” Mark compliments, leaning down to kiss your hand. “Oh stop it, Mark. You’re too much. What happened to the Mark that would tease me 24/7?” You laugh, using one of your hands to playfully slap at the man’s shoulder.

You fail to notice a presence coming up behind you, growing concerned when there was an abrupt change in Marks demeanor. “Mark? What’s wrong?” You furrowed your eyebrows as your frowned before looking over your shoulder only to see Peter glaring at Mark with a tightly-clenched jaw. “Oh hon’! Have you seen what Harry has done for your birthday? The ballroom is absolutely stunning! Also, I want you to meet Mark, he was my best friend throughout high school,” You smiled, wrapping your arms around your husband’s arm, oblivious to the tension between the two men. “And Mark, meet my husband, Peter.” You inform, feeling one of Peter’s arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

“Husband?” Mark questions, raising one of his eyebrows. “Yeah. Dated for 4 years, been married for 5.” Peter stated, holding the hand out that the wedding band around your ring finger. “Oh, well, congratulations. I’m really happy for you, Y/N. But I’m just saying, I would’ve gotten a better ring for a beautiful woman like you.” Mark examines the ring, then to look at Peter with a smug look.

“Pfft, I forgot how much of a jokester you are, Mark.” You grin. “Hey, love? Can you go grab me some water?“ Peter asks with a nonchalant tone, not breaking eye contact with the man that stood in front of him. “Hm? Oh yeah, of course.” You nod, excusing yourself before walking off.

“The fuck is your problem?” Peter mutters, stepping closer towards Mark. “Nothing. It’s just sad to hear that my girl’s married off to some other dude. She looks ravishing tonight. The way the dress perfectly hugs her waist and extenuate her curves. How is she? Is she tight? Does her tits feel soft?” Mark whispers, the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk. Peter balled up his fists, clenching tightly to the point where his knuckles were turning white. As he opened up his mouth to say something, a pair of heels clicking against the smooth, tiled floor pulled him out of his frenzy.

“Unfortunately, they didn’t have water at the moment. They only had champagne, if that’s okay, love?” You explained, each hand holding two glasses. “I got one for you, Peter, and one for Mark.” You smiled. “That won’t be necessary, hon’.” Peter chuckles, grabbing both glasses. Before you could get a word in to ask why, your hands flew to cover your mouth as you watched Peter pour the beverages straight onto Marks head. Peter then handed you the empty glasses, pecking your cheek before turning around to face Mark once more, only to land a hard blow right across the males face. “Oh my god, Peter!” You gawked, immediately placing the glasses on a nearby table prior to rushing over to pull the brunette away from the half insensible Mark. “What is wrong with you?” You question with wide eyes, you look around to see people judgmentally staring at you three.

“You didn’t hear the vile things he said about you.” Peter mutters, shaking the hand that is now starting to bruise up. “Security!” You call out, “Please escort this gentleman out.” As two able-bodied men in black suits walked over, you pointed your hand at Mark who could barely stand. “Thank you.” You say to the two men, smiling.

You then felt a hand gripping at your wrist, dragging you through the crowd of people and up the carpet staircase. “Peter, where are you taking me?” You whispered loud enough for only Peter to hear. “Shut up.” You heard Peter respond back in a churlishly manner. You were bewildered. You don’t even know what Mark could’ve said to have Peter all riled up. You didn’t know where Peter was taking you in all honestly, there was a lot of turns and all you knew was that your feet were starting to hurt. It’s not easy to walk relatively fast in 5 inch heels.

“Peter, can you please slow down? My feet are starting to hurt—“ You gasped as you were suddenly grabbed at your shoulders, turned around to have your back pushed up against a large glass window. “Peter-!” You slightly yelp, looking around frantically. You saw you two were in a short hallway, the lights were fairly dimmed. You look over your shoulder to look through the glass windows and see you were approximately 15 stories high. “Peter, what are you doing?” You whisper, looking up at the male with furrowed eyebrows.

“Are you really that fucking stupid, huh?” Peter spats out. He grabs both of your wrists with one of his hands, pinning it above your head. The other hand now clenched around your jaw. “I don’t understand—“ You whimper when you felt Peter’s thigh force your legs apart. “He was flirting with you. Maybe you’re just too fucking dumb to even notice.” Peter says through gritted teeth. “Touching you.. putting his lips on you,” He scoffs, his hand that held your jaw now making its way down to your neck. “He had the fucking nerve to ask such vulgar questions about my lovely wife,” Peter laughs, tightening his grip around your throat, “But he wont ever know. He’ll live out the rest of his life wondering how tight you feel.. how soft these wonderful tits are.. and how much of a slut you sound like when you’re getting fucked.” Peter whispers into your ear, his thigh inching closer to your aching cunt.

You felt your body becoming hotter. But you also felt yourself becoming wetter with each passing second. “I’m sorry, Peter. Please..” You gasp out, bucking your hips up, trying to grind against Peter’s thigh for some sort of friction. “Look at my pathetic little whore, trying to rub herself on me. Tell me, love, what do you want?” Peter asks, loosening his grip around your throat. “Please fuck me..” You whine, shortly gasping afterwards when Peter finally pressed his thigh up against your clothed pussy. “More. Beg for it.” Peter orders. You began moving your hips forward and backwards, grinding against the soft material of the suit. Small whimpers slipping out of your mouth as you finally gained the friction you’ve been wanting. But it wasn’t enough, you needed more. You itched for more.

“Need more..” You breathed out, shaking your head when Peter had pulled his thigh away, “I want you inside of me.” You moaned when you felt Peter’s hand cupping your sex. “Do you deserve to be fucked, love?” Peter asks as he grabbed a handful of the lace material before ripping it off of you. You gasped at the sudden chill waving at your soaked cunt. He balled it up in his fists before stuffing it into his pant pocket. “Did you fucking hear me?” Peter asks, using the hand that bonded your wrists together, to now wrap around your throat once again, pinning you against the clear, cold glass surface. You nod frantically, mouth a gape, “Yes! Yes! I deserved to be fucked, oh please.. please fuck me.” You pleaded desperately when Peter’s fingers glided a long stripe in between your folds, stopping when the pad of his fingers landed perfectly on top of the clit. “Gotta quiet down, hon’.“ Peter huffs out, rubbing the small bundle of nerves in a slow, agonizing pace. “Please! Peter, faster!” You cried out, unable to take any more teasing. “What the fuck did I just say?” Peter muttered, momentarily pinching the airways on your throat. His fingers now starting to pick up the pace, rubbing in circular motions against the small knob. You moan, your hips bucking up into Peter’s hand. “Oh shit, yes!” You whimper, biting down on your bottom lip in attempt to try to lower your voice.

You whine in protest when Peter pulls his hands away from your body. He then pinched at the straps of your dress, pulling it down your arms, allowing the upper part of the dress to slip off your chest. Your breasts now full out on display, your nipples hard. “Another thing Mark will never know..” Peter breathes out as he turns you around. The front of your body now exposed to the outside world. His hands snaking around your torso till it reached your tits. He cupped them into his hands, kneading the soft, warm flesh. You hold onto Peter’s wrists, tilting your head backwards to rest onto the male’s broad shoulder. He slightly grazed his index fingers against the tip of your erected nipples, chuckling when you twitched against him. “I love how sensitive they are,” Peter whispers into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. He placed his finger pads onto your nipples, beginning to rub them circular motions. You moan out in delight, squeezing your thighs together. “P-peter,” You whimpered. “Yes, baby. Say my name.” He hums, pinching the buds in between his thumb and index fingers. Twisting it and tugging it very slightly. “Peter!” You moaned out, rubbing your ass against Peter lower half, giggling when you felt his bulge poking through his pants.

“I need to see your pretty face when I fuck my cock into you.” Peter groaned, “Would you like that, baby? Hm? You want my thick cock ramming inside of this pathetic little pussy of yours?” He smirks as he undoes his belt, pulling the pants down enough for him to pull out his erected cock, finding it entertaining watching you fold under him. “Yes! Oh god, yes please! Fuck me, Peter..” You trailed off at the end. Suddenly a wave of boldness came over you, “Unless if I just call Mark right now and have him fuck me instead—“

You cut yourself off with a cry of pure bliss when you felt Peter force himself into you with the help of your wetness as a lubricant. Your hands flew onto the glass, palms spread flat out on the surface as Peter gripped at your hips, pulling out till the tip was barely left in, only to slam himself into you with full force. “Fuck! Peter!” You moaned, your breasts pushed up against the glass window, your chest twitching due to the friction of your nipples rubbing against the surface. “Who can fuck you like this, hm? Who can fuck this pussy?” Peter grunts into your ear, repeatedly slamming his hips against your ass. “You, Peter! Oh fuck, it’s you!” You cry out, already feeling your legs buckling.

You couldn’t think of anything besides the feeling of Peter’s cock ramming into you. Filling you up perfectly. You were already on edge due to the teasing from earlier. You felt like a bucket being filled up, on the brim of tipping over. “Peter, slow down. I’m getting close.” You beg, using one of your hands to reach back and push against Peter’s pelvis. But rather than slowing down, Peter ignored the pleas from his wife and instead thrusted faster, his balls slapping against your cunt. “Oh god! P-please! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out loud, shaking your head frantically.

Peter abruptly pulls out, catching you in his arms when you’re legs collapsed on themselves. “N-no..” You whined out pathetically when you felt your orgasm was ripped away from you. Peter picks you up in his arms, carrying you to a nearby table that was placed against the wall along the hallway. He sets you down on the marble table, placing himself in between your legs. “Look at me, beautiful. Who makes you this stupid when fucking you?” Peter asks, his tone sweet ironically compared to what he’s asking. “You, Peter.” You smile, wrapping your arms around the male’s neck. “Good girl.” He praises, pecking your mascara stained cheek.

He lines himself up to your gaping hole, pushing in once more, groaning. “Fuck, my baby’s pussy is so warm and tight. Look at it pulling my cock in.” He laughs. Once he fully bottomed out, his hip began snapping against yours. Squelching sounds fills the hallway along with the obscene noises that left your mouth. “I’m going to cum soon, baby.” Peter moaned out. You tightly wrapped your legs around Peter’s hips, locking him in a tight space. “I’m gonna cum in this little pussy of yours. Gon’ fill you up to the brim, fuck!‘M gonna fuck my babies into you.” Peter groans, laughing when he felt you clench tightly around him. “Oh yeah? You like the thought of me fucking my cum so deep inside of you? Getting you pregnant, hm? Your belly round and full of my kids?” He says, “Oh, fuck, yes! Please cum inside of me!” You plead, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust Peter makes. “I’m.. gonna get you pregnant.” Peter breathes out, his thrusts beginning to get sloppy.

“I-I’m cumming!” You cried out, “Lets come together, love.” Peter moans, his thrusts quickening just for a few moments until it came to a full stop. “Fuck, Y/N!” He says as he came, his cock pulsating inside of you. Thick spurts of white, warm cum shot inside of you. Coating your insides with his seed.

“Peter!” You came straight after. Your eyes rolling back as one last moan that sounded like it came straight from a porno emitted from you. Your legs fully tightening around Peter hips, making sure to squeeze out every single drop of cum from the male. You felt yourself tipping over inside, a wave of pleasure coursing throughout your body, leaving you twitching.

Peter slowly pulls out once he felt himself go limp inside of you. He leaned over to embrace you into his arms, holding you close to him. “Happy birthday, Peter.” You giggle, pecking his cheek. “Thank you, love. Let’s get you fixed up before we go back downstairs, okay?” He suggests, moving a strand of hair away from your face. “But I’m pretty sure they’ve heard you. ‘Oh, fuck, yes! Please cum inside of me!’” Peter playfully mocks. You gasp and punched him in the arm, “Oh shut up!” You whine, hiding your face in Peter’s shoulder. “I hate you.” You mumble, “No you don’t. You love me.” Peter laughs, helping you wear your dress correctly.

[underoospeterparker]

request ! peter (parker) has a photography class assignment and reader is the subject <3

this request has been here forever and i'm only getting to it now - this isn't proofread

snapshots - a peter parker x reader fic

"pete!" you called over to him, waving from your locker. as soon as he spotted you, his face softened and a wide grin spread on his lips.

"hi baby," he greeted as he made his way over to you, immediately reaching you to press a kiss onto the side of your head.

you pouted, asking quietly, "can i get another one?"

your boyfriend laughed softly. "so polite," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you, on the lips this time, and you sighed softly as he cupped your face in his warm palms. "i missed you," he said, smiling against your mouth.

after almost a year of dating, peter could still make your cheeks turn bright red. you blushed, suddenly shy as you replied, "i missed you too."

he wrapped an arm around your waist as you both started to walk out of the school, talking about nonsense that happened in different classes, and he burst out laughing when you mentioned how you gave flash so much shit in class for being such an asshole.

once he caught his breath, he mumbled a soft "that's my girl."

fighting back another blush, you asked, "how was your day? anything interesting happen?"

peter paused for a second, before saying, "we have a new photography project coming up." he hesitated, but you coaxed him into telling you more, big brown eyes wide and curious. "we have to choose a subject."

"you got any ideas?" you questioned.

he nodded, a serious look on his face. "you."

"huh?" your playful look turned confused, and you turned to face your boyfriend, stopping abruptly. "what do you mean?"

sensing your mood, peter stopped too, taking the moment to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "you're my muse for everything, baby. and i want you to be the subject for my project. i wanna show the world how beautiful you are." he hesitated, then added, "if you're okay with it, of course."

"are you kidding?" you flung your arms around his shoulders, pressing your head into his sweater. "i'd love to, pete."

he beamed at your response, peppering kisses all over you once you pulled away. "thank you."

"so," you said as you reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers and squeezing them tightly. "when do we start?"

[cemeteryspider]

~Imagine~ Goodnight, Spider-Boy

TASM! Peter Parker x Reader (Could be read as any Peter Parker/Spider-Man)

*No Gwen Stacy*

Summary: Reader comes home from work to a heart-warming sight

Trigger Warnings: Safety Precautions, Peter's Night Job, Vulnerability

Word Count: 259 Words

Quietly, you step into the shared apartment you and Peter call home after a calm day at the bookstore where you work. Despite a few customers making purchases, Thursdays are typically quiet, especially when rain clouds loom overhead.

With the clock ticking around five-thirty, the time Peter usually studies between school and his nightly escapades, the apartment remains dark and silent. Frowning, you venture further inside, your fingers instinctively resting on the safety latch of your keychain mace.

As you round the corner into the living room, a heartwarming sight unfolds – your boyfriend peacefully asleep on the couch, his advanced chemistry book sprawled open across his chest. A smile graces your lips, and you shed your jacket and keys. With utmost care, you lift the book from his chest, gently closing it and placing it on the coffee table – a piece of furniture he insisted on having, despite the limited walking space.

You take a moment to organize his hurried notes, completing the chemistry problem he was working on by adjusting the unit of measurement and refining the significant figures. Before extinguishing the lone dim light he switched on for studying, you grab the Spider-Man chibi plush throw blanket hanging behind him on the couch, draping it over his slumbering form.

A few steps toward the bedroom, you pause and turn back, leaving a soft kiss on Peter's forehead, a small sleepy smile graces his lips. Heading to your room, you send a text to your friend Matt, asking if he could patrol the area around your apartment tonight.

[lokisivy]

Mad Man- Peter Parker

summary: You and Peter fought about him being reckless when he was saving the city Peter got angry and when he gets angry he gets angry.

Peter's POV is in italics

warnings: Angst, blood, cursing. already established relationship

I supported Peter through everything in his transition through Spiderman, trying to find out what happened with his parents, the loss of his uncle, and finding vengeance for the murder of his uncle. I was happy to be there for him he was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for.

But this was my last straw when he went through my window with blood-soaked hair, bruises on his face, and knife slashes all over his chest The sight was dreadful almost causing tears to run down my face. I was angry at him for getting himself like that it wasn't the first time he had done that. "Peter, what the hell happened!" I yelled my parents were not home.

"Some psycho with a sword." he laughs lightly, holding the leaking wound he lays down on the couch in my bedroom. I got the first aid kit from under my bed. I will yell at him later when he is all patched up.

"fuck that hurts Y/N!" he yelled in pain holding my hips tighter I was stitching his shoulder. I may have been less gentle than normal. "Good" I looked at him briefly. I finished his last stitch and got up to wash my hands.

Peter could sense that you were mad at him. You usually melted in his arms when you were fixing him up. This time, you were stiff and didn't make a convo with him

"Are you mad at me?" Peter asked getting up and following me to the bathroom door

"Yes Peter, I'm mad you got yourself hurt badly," I snap, turning my head.

"Okay, and someone has to do something about what is happening in the city," he shrugged, remaining calm. he is always like that. Clam, he contains himself better than me, and it's frustrating sometimes when we fight and he is not even matching the same level as my voice.

"We have cops for that. It's not your job to go again, drug lords!" My voice got louder. "The cops can't do half of the stuff i can," he said, still clamly, which irritated me more.

"Look at you. you came in covered in blood from head to toe and you may not care about what happens to you because you expect me to patch you up" it was the last time I had to see the love of my life like that I cannot take it when I see him hurting let alone covered in blood almost on the verge of passing out.

"You know you just tell me if you don't want to do that, I don't need you to it. if you don't love me, " he said, trying to guilt trip me he does that every time he gets hurt, trying to make me feel bad.

"No peter its because i love you. You know I won't leave until you're healed," i said, fire building through me why cant he get mad like I am.. he doesn't answer me he stayed silent.

"What you want me to stich you up then kiss you after almost dying, not this time." i turn my back to him, proceeding to wash my hands seeing the crimson blood filling my sink. I took a glimpse in the mirror. i saw him behind me running his hand through his hair, frustrated at my reaction to all of this.

He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I was about to fall to his touch till I looked up in the mirror and saw the bruises and stitches on his face. "Baby, listen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I love you -"

"Get your hands of me." I pushed him away. None of this sweet talking shit is going to work on me, not this time. you walked out going inside your bedroom.

"What is your problem Y/N Im trying so hard to stay calm and not fight back but your making this so fucking hard," Peter yelled he rarely cursed when he talked. His eyes grew darker. "What's my problem? are you fucking serious right now Peter!" I yelled back at him.

"You are acting like a kid. in the real world, people get hurt, and I'm preventing that from happening, and I'm not gonna stop because Gwen could've been alive," he shouted.

he talked about my best friend she died last year after Harry threw her off the clock tower. peter wasn't fast enough to save her, and I never blamed him. it was never his fault. he loved her too they were planning on moving to Europe together until she died.

"You can save people without getting hurt you decide to push your limits what happened to Gwen was never your fault and you think you're making it better by almost dying each time you get out there but the only person you're hurting is yourself and me because I would rather die than lose you Peter, and if you can't see that then this isn't gonna work out," I said sadness lacing my tone rather than anger I sat down on my bed trying to compose myself and not to cry.

Peter's heart dropped when you said those words he was gonna lose you too because of his actions panic rose to his throat tears almost falling from his eyes as he choked on his words

"Are you- breaking up with me?" his voice quieted down with a shiver "I'm saying if you wanna play with death out there then I'd rather lose you now than fall in love with more and tear me apart when you leave me," I said my voice cracking tears slipping down my face.

"I'm sorry- I failed you-- it's like everyone I touch dies my Uncle Ben, Gwen, Captain Stacy they all died because of me and I will lose you too-" he kneels in front of me in between my legs gently grabbing my face."I can't lose you." he placed his forehead on mine a teardrop falling down his cheeks.

"Now you listen to me. You never failed me Peter you are perfect, and just because things happen doesn't mean we cause it." I grabbed his cheek. "The world takes everyone, but we don't give. you have me till my dying breath, and even then, I'm still yours." his lips crash into mine the kiss we like needed more than the other. i leaned more into him. The kiss was magical until Peter lost balance, and i ended up falling on top of him on the floor. the both of us broke into laughter. "Go shower, you stink.' I slapped his chest lightly. "Excuse me for not smelling like daisies and roses," he giggled, giving me a light peck on my lips "god i love you. you've ruined me for anyone else. " he sits upright, making me straddle his lap and kiss me again with full passion.

[trumanbluee]

do you write for tasm! peter?

yes!!!!! i was actually working on a fic for him a while ago but i kinda gave up on it, but if anyone is interested i will finish it and post!! <3

[amoraffairs]

astrology!obsessed reader with tasm peter parker. pretty boy is the most geekiest boy so he’ll become fascinated with you. takes you to watch the stars on the top of the hugest building. once you finally get over your fear of heights (spend ten minutes not remove if your hands from your eyes) your in awe. You point to every constellation where peter nods along listening to every word you say. “don’t the stars look so beautiful” eyes zoned on the stars. “yeah completely beautiful” he says with his eyes on you.

[moonstruckme]

7K!!!!!! And a birthday!!!! What a day!!!!!

For the celly can I please request “frozen peas pressed against a fresh bruise” with tasm!peter? Pretty predictable of a pairing but I just love how you write him

What a day indeed!! Thanks for requesting angel

cw: mention of blood, bruises, and general violence (not being inflicted in the scene)

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 685 words

Peter is lucky you don’t faint at the sight of blood. You tell him as much, which makes him chuckle, which makes you both wince as the cut on his lip reopens. 

He’s blooming with bruises. You can tell they’re going to be bad—they already are bad, but you know they’re going to get worse. You’re doing your best to mitigate the damage with what you have on hand. There’s a slice of plastic-wrapped cheese laid across the less severe bruise on his jaw and a bag of frozen peas pressed as delicately as possible to the darker one across his temple. Peter could probably hold either of these himself, but he’s decided to busy his hands with the edges of your pajama shorts and leave the work of nursing to you. 

“How’d you get this one?” you ask, stroking your thumb close to the one on his temple. 

“Same guy.” Peter’s voice is light, though you can tell he’s hurting by the way he’s barely moving his lips. “I think his main plan was to try to knock me out.” 

You feel your face scrunch, sympathy for your boyfriend and disgust for his attacker warring in you. He coils the drawstring of your shorts around his finger and smiles at you with the working side of his mouth. 

“It didn’t work.” 

“Maybe you should’ve stayed down,” you mumble. 

“That wouldn’t have really been consistent with the whole ‘neighborhood protector’ thing…” 

“Who were you protecting this time, though?” You aim for lightness, but the question falls with unintended weight between you. You rub your lips together, looking at the peas instead of him. “It was a carjacking. I mean, it still sucks, but nobody was being physically hurt except you.” 

“Hey.” Peter’s voice is soft, teasing. He strokes a thumb over your thigh. “You should see the other guy.” 

You expel a breath. It aches a little coming out. “I just…it feels like you put yourself in danger tonight for nothing.” 

You’re still not quite looking at him, but you see his eyebrows scrunch in your periphery. The levity saps from his expression. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t in any real danger. I always make it back, don’t I?” 

“Barely,” you murmur, softer than soft. 

“I’ll be good as new in a couple days,” he assures you. “Super strength and super healing and all that, remember?” 

“I know. It’s scary when you come back like this, though.” 

“Hey.” Peter taps your thigh. You look at him, and he rewards you with a little smile. “It’s not like it happens all the time. These guys were waiting for me. They knew I was coming and they got the jump, but that’s not, like, a regular thing.” 

“I know,” you say again. “I just wish you’d pick your battles sometimes. If no one’s getting hurt, and you are getting hurt, maybe it’s not always worth it. You could at least consider leaving things be some of the time.” You smile back at him, and it’s a bit watery. “The cars will be okay.” 

Peter looks back at you for a minute. You look down, embarrassed—you’re not even the one getting hurt, what right do you have to get all emotional about it?—but you can still feel him studying you. After a while, he says, “Okay.” 

You blink. “Okay?” 

He smiles. Not like he’s consoling you this time, but like he can’t help it. “Yeah, baby. I don’t want to scare you for nothing. So I’ll try” —he sighs— “to pick my battles a little bit. Sometimes.” 

You feel teary again. “Thanks,” you say thinly. 

Peter’s brows hook in the middle, his hand moving up to hold your hip as though to steady you. “Sure,” he says softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was freaking you out so much.” 

You laugh, shrugging and wiping wetness away from your bottom lashes. He pouts. 

“Kiss?” 

It’s an easy request to oblige. You kiss Peter on his top lip, the good side, but when that’s not enough for him and his bottom lip splits again anyway, he says he doesn’t mind.

[iridescentparkers]

study buddies - tasm!peter parker x female reader

a/n - this also works for any peter ;)

THE BRIGHT BLUE flyer posted on the Midtown bulletin gave Peter flashed lightbulbs in his already crowded brain. 

Tutoring. It was the only way he could talk to Y/N. Intentionally walking his body in her direction and offering to buy her dinner? Heck no. Baby steps, he thought to himself. 

So after school today, Peter put on a new hat, an actor. He was amazing at physics, even planning to take AP next year, but he couldn’t tell her that. 

Now, he sits in the dark physics room, putting on an amazing show for his new study buddy. 

“Coulomb’s law?”

“Something with electric fields?” He asked, looking down at his worksheet and tapping his pencil rapidly on the desk.

“Something like that.” She informed, her voice raising an octave as she lowered her lids. 

She picked up her pencil, writing out some numbers in her textbook, “All of these variables should be over “F” squared.”

“Actually “r” squared,” he muttered, looking at the sheet.

“What?”

“What!” 

“You knew I already knew this?”

“And you dumbed yourself down to come talk to me?” Y/N laughed, darting her eyes from the false practice problems to his large, droopy brown eyes. “I think you win.” 

“Why did you lie?”

“To talk to you.” He informed, shrugging a shoulder as he darted his eyes to Y/N’s expression.

“I know you’re a genius, Peter.” she laughed, patting his shoulder. “We were in the same classes in 9th and 10th grade”

“But if you knew that, why did you agree to study with me?”

“Cause…” she trailed, moving her eyes up and down. “I think you’re cute.”

He felt heat in his cheeks as he ran an index finger over his forehead. Y/N reached up to place a long kiss on his cheek, “Except for when you fake being dumb.”

“The nerd thing is really hot.”

[feralratfairy]

female!reader x tasm peter

in which a certain asshole is talking about fuckable girls in their grade and asks peter his opinion.

***

rumors spread fast in school, everyone knows that. not only do they spread quickly, but they get exaggerated.

and that’s what happened today.

“you know who’s really hot? alicia!” one of flash’s delinquent friends says.

“yeah right, maybe from the back with a bag over her head.” flash retorts to his friend with a chuckle. peter overhears this conversation and rolls his eyes. he continues to get a head start on his lab while their teacher is out sick.

“yeah, but she’s fuckable, so that’s all that matters, right?” another one of flash’s friends jokes.

“you know who IS fuckable? rachel. she’s gotta be the hottest in our grade hands down.” they continue the degrading discussion while peter continues to work and attempts to ignore them, until he’s caught looking at the group of morons, making him look engaged in their conversation.

flash notices and decides to prod, “what about you, parker?” peter looks around as if there’s another parker present.

“what about me?” he replies.

“who do YOU think is the most fuckable person in our grade?” flash questions with a teasing grin. peter looks taken aback, how was he supposed to respond to that?

“oh, um i don’t know-“

“who’s pants are you just dying to get in?” flash laughs with his friends.

“i—uh—think the prettiest girl in our grade is Y/N..?” he said in the tone of a question, to which sent the group of boys into a fit of laughter. the bell rings and peter gets up and grabs his stuff as they continue to laugh at him as he walks out the door.

peter and Y/N had been friends since junior high. she was always nice to him considering he was classified as a “nerd” and she was among the well liked. he’d always had a slight crush on her, but never felt the desire to speak up on it.

by lunch, the details of that exchange were being spread, but nobody really thought much of it. everyone is used to flash and his friends being assholes.

the only person who seemed to care was Y/N. so much so that she felt the need to approach peter while he was alone at his lunch table.

she plops down in front of where he’s sat and he raises his head up from his camera, knowing what’s coming. “i hear that you think i’m the prettiest in our grade, parker,” she playfully probes.

“oh, that was a misunderstanding,” he said and immediately realizes how it sounds, Y/N with an amused look on her face.

“not a misunderstanding, more of a misinterpretation! not that i don’t think you’re pretty, or the prettiest in our grade, i think you’re very pretty—“ he stumbles. she cuts him off, laughing lightly, “dude, chill, i get it. i just wanted to say thank you. i think you’re very pretty too.” she dropped that bomb and started to get up and walk away. he sat in disbelief and continued on with his lunch with a newfound confidence.

***

idk where this was going i just needed to get active sorry i’ve been lazy

send me requests, sweet angels 🙏🏽

[irndad]

* Gardenia - the love of a friend who doesn’t want to just be friends

This screams both tasm!peter to me. Also Remus. Both. Both is good.

a/n: he's my husband officer i love him / prompts are open bb!!! tasm!peter parker x reader

The realization sweeps over him like the invention of technicolor- slow, warm bursts of an entirely new perspective. Her company has been present more often, and he’s slowly becoming addicted to the sight of her. 

Harry introduced the both of them. Peter’s been in kind of an odd space since graduating college, and so sometimes when he meets Harry’s grad student friends he can be a little intimidating. She was no exception. 

Except she was, wasn’t she?

Peter recalls the first time he ever met her, warm twinkling fairy lights of Harry’s apartment illuminating her features. She’d smiled at him, a gentle thing, all warm disposition and kind eyes, and Peter had almost felt his knees buckle under her gaze. 

He’s somehow managed to be charming enough to get her to enjoy his company for almost two months. They’re friends, or whatever you call being the first person the other hears from in the morning. Peter keeps a picture of her in his wallet for luck. He’s not very good at hiding the things he wants, but she’s not the kind of woman who dates guys like him, at least in his perception. 

Still, tonight, this is easy to forget. She’s in his apartment, soda poured into wine glasses, his head on her shoulder, drunk on the way she laughs and the fact she chose to spend her night with him. She’s got a finite amount of time, and she’s chosen to spend it with her legs on top of his. She’s so, so warm. The show he’s put on is the least of his worries, the least captivating thing he can imagine. 

He’s made them dinner, called Harry in a panic about three times even though if you’d have asked Peter before tonight if this was a date, he’d be sure you were insane. There’s a somatic sense of urgency, now, heightened senses attuned to her every movement. There’s a lot of curses to the spider-bite but this- the way that she feels in his arms, how her perfume lingers in his senses, how her so-soft skin feels on his own, her fingers carding through his hair lazily- 

“What’s on your mind?” She says, a giggle in her voice. 

“This is nice,” he replies, turning to look up at her. She’s just so nice to look at.

“Stop looking at me that way,” she says, warmth creeping up her cheeks, delicate hands covering her face in embarrassment. He turns to face her, and she smells like vanilla perfume and everything he wants.

“What way?” There’s an uncontrollable flirt in his tone, and it’s hard to admit how much he’s proud of the fact it’s him that made her feel that way. It’s a lot of restraint he’s used to not call her baby. 

“Like that,” she murmurs. He thinks he might see her eyes flicker to his lips, and his chest roars with want. He’s drunk on all of it, the feeling of her so close, the kindest person he’s had the good fortune to meet. 

“I can’t help it,” he says back, unashamedly staring back at her adorable pout, “I just wanna…”

It’s months of pining, of waiting and watching and listening to the sound of her heart when he leans over and kisses her. He’s not sure if he’s fucked it, but then- then she leans into him, kisses him back, warm and soft and isn’t this the point of being a person? Getting to be held like this? 

She actually ends up staying the night, in an incredibly mundane way. Harry finds them just that way in the morning, wrapped around each other like knots on a cherry stem. Peter doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed. 

[spiderfunkz]

all i can think abt is tasm!peter in his room listening to music and stitching up his suit 😞

in my head he’s a smiths and mcr fan

this is soooo real!!! slow days with peter where he just plays music in the background as he stitches up his suit & you're on his bed reading his messy journal entries, it's quiet, the weather is perfect, the sun isn't too bright, and you're enjoying each others presence.

small blurb ahead, not proofread.

new york is always busy and loud. no matter what time it was or how the weather is, the city never sleeps.

though this particular afternoon was quiet. maybe it was because the music peter was playing, the old cd player still works to your surprise, or maybe it was because you were so focused on peter's old journal he let you read.

"oh this ones funny. april 19th, a year ago." you giggled. peter hummed, "what did i say?" — "dear diary, today i was in a rush to class. instead of grabbing my pencil, i stupidly grabbed the banana on the counter beside it. i think i was half-asleep because i didn't question the texture difference until i stepped foot in the class holding a half opened banana."

"that wasn't me," peter shook his head. "i would never write 'dear diary' at the start of my entry."

"but you would bring a half opened banana?"

peter nodded his head.

you lay back down at the bed. flipping through the pages of the journal. peter had his glasses on, which you think is adorable, he doesn't wear it that often though. he thinks it's nerdy but thankfully you like nerds. obviously.

"ooh i like this song." you commented.

"everyone likes the smiths," peter stated. "no one likes it as much as me though." he smiled at you, rather threatening-ly.

"okay.. do they help you focus?" you raided your brow. peter was still looking at you, "yeah.."

"really? the hole you're trying to stitch is getting bigger, peter."