#andrew!peter smut

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

DOWN BAD- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Jock! Peter x Nerd! Reader (enemies to… lovers?)

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Peter Parker constantly nags you, and you hate his guts (naturally). So what better way to mellow the hate by being paired together for a class project? And why, if you hate his guts, do you want to touch him so bad?

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing etc…

Notes: It’s been a while, I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, I had a fun time writing, and I really did miss it (Taylor Swifts new album really inspired me too!) I am using my phone to post for the first time, I hope to go back and format/ edit if need be when I can use my laptop again. Thank you for all the support :)

“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed, eyes sharp as daggers as your cool gaze slid over to your target and struck its mark.

Peter Parker. Bullseye.

You could feel his lingering attention solely focused on you, a coy smirk upon his lips as he tapped his pencil against the wooden desk, its dull echo like nails on a chalkboard. A taunting metronome in the back of your mark as he leaned over to tower over you in his seat.

It was too close to yours for your liking.

“Like what pipsqueak?” he murmured, drowning out the professor's droning voice as he dragged on. You wished you could hit him with the textbook in your bag. Both of them, honestly.

“Like you’re thrilled for this. Don’t act like you like me.”

“Well I do like you.” He smiled, beaming ear to ear.

For him, it was the best day of his life. Getting randomly paired with “whoever you’re sitting next to, I don’t care.” (the professor's words, not yours), was a thrill for him, he got to pick on the quiet, shy girl more than usual.

Which would be a shock, considering the sheer amount he did already, always finding his way next to you to tease you, especially with and to his stupid jockey friends. This project was worth thirty percent of your grade. You couldn’t afford this.

“Well I don’t like you. So fuck off.” You heard a low whistle from behind you, a chuck alongside it from his friends. “Kitty has claws?” Peter whistled, eyebrow raising in mock surprise as you shifted your legs to the other side of the chair, angling away from him.

“Oh you’re in for it now Parker” Bucky laughed as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way they mocked you. And what made it worse was that it got to you. Not that the jokes and remarks meant anything much, but it was just the sheer annoyance of it all.

You had thrived to be a straight A student your entire life, and in this class… you could feel them slipping. Taking a deep breath, you clenched your pen harder in your hand, pressing so hard the page snagged as you wrote.

You could still feel his eyes on you, flickering over from under his glasses ,his muscles flexing subtly under his blue t-shirt. You pretended not to look, and to not focus on the fact he was extremely attractive. You spent the rest of the hour doing just that, scolding yourself for any indecent thought you had ever had about him, ever. By the time the professor had snapped his laptop shut, the projector turning dark as students started to talk amongst themselves as they packed up, you had half a page of notes, max.

“I’ll be in touch.” he leaned down and whispered, hand lingering by your chair as he slipped by. “Fuck you.”

He just threw his head back and laughed, his friend group joining him as he looked back. And winked. You groaned. This was going to be three weeks of hell.

—————————————————————————

It was a Thursday when you got a text from him. An unknown number flashed on your screen as you lay face down on your bed, contemplating life and if this class was seriously worth it or not.

The buzz of the phone had your head snapping up, confused until it suddenly dawned on you.

Unknown: Think we should start brainstorming for this thing pipsqueak?

Well fuck, you thought, wanting to throw your phone across the room. This class wasn’t that important, right? (It was).

Taking a deep breath, you sat up as your thumbs started to fly across the screen.

You: Who is this?

Unknown: I’m hurt, pips. Truly.

You: I think you have the wrong number.

You smirked. Okay, who were you kidding… this was kind of fun. Kind of.

Peter: It’s Peter, you jerk. Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?

You: Peter who? Doesn’t ring a bell.

Good. Knock him down a few pegs. You giggled to yourself, quickly stopping once you realised why exactly you were kicking your feet like a school girl, for who exactly. You layed back down, head muddled with meaningless thoughts that jumbled as you waited for his response. Grabbing a stuffie, you hugged it close to your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you caught your breath, grounding yourself. Why on earth did this mean so much to you? Why did his texts, something so easily ignorable- suddenly a waiting game?

Peter: Ha ha, very funny pips.

You: How did you even get my number anyways?

Peter: Long story, I had to go on a bit of a hunt. A friend, of a friend of a friend, you get the point. I can be very persuasive ;)

Nope. You thought. Don’t give into this.

You: I’m sure.

Peter: You wanna come over on the weekend or meet at Braxston’s to start… brainstorming?

You: I don’t want to do anything of the sort, but if that gets this over with as soon as possible- then sure. Only one of us has a brain to storm anyways.

Peter: You’ll regret that pips.

You clicked off your phone, a ghost of a smirk on your face. His threat surprisingly didn’t seem like a real threat, but actual light hearted teasing, not the kind he often did.

Fuck. You were supposed to be hating him. You did hate him. It was only three weeks with him. You weren’t sure if you meant that with relief or disappointment.

————————————————————————————

It was disappointment.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your creased temple. It was nearly midnight , and your books were still scattered across the desk you occupied, the library a ghost town considering it was a Friday night. Braxston library tended to be on the empiter side, which is why you preferred it. It was the oldest library on campus, smelling of old pages and cedarwood.

Sometimes, when you needed a break you would get up and run your fingers across the leather spines, or climb the ladder for a change of view of the stained glass windows. But tonight, you lacked the motivation to even bother standing. It had been a long night, filled with cramming and stress. Pen and highlighter stained your hands as you shook them out, cramped and aching. For the last hour you had solely focused on the final you and Peter had to pull out your ass, coming up with backup plans with the worry he would abandon you completely.

Topics, ideas, theories- god you didn’t even know anymore. Your body lacked caffeine, your iced coffee long gone. You grew tired of this mindless work, sliding off your headphones to admire the near empty room around you.

Suddenly, you wished it was completely empty.

Peter looked just as shocked to see you, eyes widening in surprise, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair ruffled and eyebags prominent as if he had fallen asleep and been startled awake.

“Pips? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow?” He made his way over to you, inviting himself to lean over you, on your desk. You stared up at him with a look of amusement.

“We don’t have to meet at all. It’s very bold you assume I’m here to see you, of all people.” you snorted. His eyebrow raised. “So who are you here to meet?”

“Two papers and exam prep. You?”

“More or less the same” he smirked, and you felt butterflies start to churn in your stomach. “Sounds like great fun. I’m sure they’re lovely.” you said, snarky comment slipping out before you could stop it, turning in your seat as you often did around him so he wouldn’t see the fluster and nerves in your demeanour whenever you were near him.

He leaned down, breath warm against the column of your neck. You couldn't breathe. You could not fucking breathe with him this close to you. The rich scent of his cologne made you dizzy, it intoxicated you as you stared at your laptop screen, as if it possessed the knowledge of the entire universe.

“You know, you can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about” you snarled softly, staring at the coy, cockly little smirk you wanted to wipe off his face as he stood. “Sure you don’t.” He nodded his head towards your screen, with a wink.

“Good song.” he smiled, before he was off. You continued to stare at him as he walked out the door, not looking back once. Not a care in the world as he slipped on his own headphones, and around the corner.

Eyes moved down to stare at the pause button of your song, lyrics burning into your ears at the thought of him listening to it- and enjoying it.

Down bad, waking up in blood, staring at the sky, come back over and pick me up- fuck it if I can’t have us, I might just not get up, I might stay down bad.

You were so incredibly fucked.

———————————————————

You took a deep breath. Then another.

You let the crisp, cool night air wash over your burning skin, the faint smell of weed tickling your senses, probably from a house down the street. It was a pretty busy neighbourhood, full of students you recognized from afar on campus. You didn’t associate with the more ‘popular’ kids, if that could even be considered a thing past high school.

You tried to shake off the uneasiness that stuck with you, cracking your knuckles as you tried to prepare yourself to not only see Peter, but to interact with him- in his house. Most likely for hours. You knew you probably looked like a complete idiot out on the sidewalk, just near his house but you had to muster some form of courage.

All you could see was a faint light from what looked like the living room, and a light upstairs- you presumed his room. No sign of life other than that.

You thought of his words, how twisted they sounded. You can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.

Fuck it.

You slipped from your hiding spot (from Peter, you were placed behind a large tree in his front yard, but god knows what people driving by thought), and mentally prepared yourself for his roommates to answer the door, making fun of you before he put the cherry on top. Practically leaping up the porch stairs, you raced to the door, knocking quickly.

You wanted this over and done with. Your palms were clammy and your stomach churned viciously as you heard footsteps near the door. It took everything in you to stay rooted to the ground and to not flee, and when Peter appeared, you feared the opposite.

How the hell you were supposed to move with him in that slutty little fit, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, his v-line and happy trail on full display… his toned abs and arms in a little white muscle shirt… gods you didn’t know. You were sure your tongue fully hung out of your mouth like some cartoon character as you took him in.

“Took you long enough” he said with a snort, adjusting his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. You didn’t even know he had glasses. Did he wear contacts? Had he worn them and you just didn’t notice? No, surely that wasn’t the case, you noticed everything he did. It was like he sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere whenever he walked in a room. It was suffocating, in a way. Of course you had to look at him, and you were sure you weren't the only one.

“I was admiring the greenery.”

“I saw that. I wasn’t sure the maple needed to be examined that long.” he smirked, and your felt your fists instinctively clench.

He had saw you- so you were fucked and now the only logical thing to do was to run into a brick wall. Perfect, got it.

“I enjoy living in the moment, and I don’t take nature for granted.’ you huffed, attempting to compose yourself as he stepped aside, motioning for you to enter. “I’m sure. Don’t worry it was cute.” he smiled, running a hand through his tosseled hair.

You slid off your shoes, setting them next to his worn in converse you always saw him wear. You noticed the other pairs were missing, not even a missing lace to be found.

“Where are your roommates?” you asked as entered, surveying the open space. It was surprisingly tidy for a boys place, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Peter rushing around attempting to clean up before you came (though you doubted he would ever do that). Still, it was nice to think about.

Little traces of “boy” still lingered, silly little signs scattered across the walls, flags and such, empty, crushed beer and poking out from the recycling bins. “I kicked them out, because I figured you would want to contentrate.” he said.

Yeah like I’m going to be able to conetrate with you looking that fucking fine. Ha.

“That’s considerate. I’m surprised you even know what that is, Parker. I’m impressed.”

He snorted, throwing a little look back your way as he lead you up the stairs, presumably to his room. “I’m surprised you know how to walk up stairs. You have Bambi legs.” he teased, mocking your clumsiness. You cursed him internally. Maybe out loud too, judging by his laugh.

You tried to stifle down the butterflies. You were not about to flirt with him. You were not about to let your developing feelings expand. You hated him. He was mean and he was an asshole.

You were simply here to get this project done. That’s it.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know.” was all he said, turning down a hall to an open door, light glowing faintly- beckoning to you. You appreciated his refusal to use the overhead light- not that you’d tell him that. He’d probably look at you like you were insane.

“I see you clean for girls you bring over.” you noted, observing his (surprisingly) decently clean room.

“Bold of you to assume I cleaned. Maybe I’m always this tidy.” he smirked, arms flexing over and behind his head as he sat down in his office chair, man-spreading as he stretched.

You tried so hard not to stare. And failed miserably.

“I would’ve thought you cleaned up for ladies you bring to bed.”

His eyebrows arched. “Should I have prepared then?”

Something like churning fire burned in your belly, slithering lower and lower.

“Don’t start with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it pip.” he smiled coyly, knowing he had gotten you flustered. “May I?” you nodded to his bed, trying to ignore your feelings as you sat down. Fanning your skirt out, you tucked your legs in before opening your bag, attempting to cover your thighs with your bag as much as you could- his cool gaze staring lasers into your bare skin.

“So… if we have to base this on a creature in the wild…”

“Jumping straight to the point aren’t we?” he asked and you frowned in confusion.

“What did you want me to do foreplay or something beforehand?” you asked, your word choice more than intentional. You swore a little pink tinted his cheeks as he swiveled around.

“Right to it then. Okay, I was thinking spiders. Specifically their venom and social behaviours.”

You blinked. Jesus okay he had thought about this. This was not what you were expected.

“Elaborate Parker.”

He smiled. “ From what I’ve seen, not a lot is known about the venom entirely. From a predator-prey aspect.. I’ve mainly seen stuff on specific components evolving to target specific sites on cell membrains of prey tissue, we could work with that to start. Maybe expand on the social aspect and evolution.”

You were stunned. This was… more than you could’ve hoped for. Suddenly you felt bad for all the doubt aimed towards him over the few days leading up to this meeting.

“Hmm. I like it.”

“Did you have any ideas you had brewing in that genius brain of yours?” he asked, making you blush internally.

“I had some stuff just in case, but it was just random jots I’m not too proud of.”

He scoffed. “You came prepared with backup stuff?!”

You just shrugged. “Do you blame me?”

“Kinda.” he laughed. “Start thinking of me more highly pips. I even have access to a brown widow, we could do some experiments.”

You winced at the thought of actually studying a spider up close, but it was part of the job. Whatever could get this done the fastest, and you had to applaud him for providing some of your own evidence you could actually showcase.

He caught your wince, and you could feel the teasing start to start. It was like bait for him, he loved it. “The spider may bite, but I won’t. That is, unless you want me too.” he winked, and you fought the urge not to chuck your laptop at his handsome face.

“You’re gross Parker.”

“Oh I’m sure you think I am. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

You were going to strangle him. “Let’s just focus and get this project done as soon as we can, yeah? Please.”

You riffled through your bag, grabbing different coloured pens and your notebook, skimming through your random thoughts and jots.

“Whatever you say pip.”

“Start researching Parker.” And that was that.

—————————————————————

A few hours had passed, and so far you were quite impressed with how much the two of you had gotten done. For the most part, the two of you had stayed on opposite sides of the room. If he wanted to make a move, he wasn’t physically doing it, and his roommates still hadn’t come home yet.

Though as the hours passed, he had made his way closer to you- ever so slightly. From his desk he nudged over closer and closer, his laptop landing in his lap as he worked.

“What source are you working from right now?” you asked, not bothering to cast your gaze up as you continued to type, fingers flying over the keyboard as you bit your lip in concentration. You failed to notice his eyes darting between your lips and your breasts that poked out slightly as you slouched over, licking his lips hungrily.

“Some research paper. Here.”

You let out a little oomph in surprise as he plopped down beside you, sprawled across his bed as he enveloped you in his makeshift fortress. He stared at you with such longing you felt faint, having to stop your work to pull yourself together.

Fuck.

He nodded towards it, and you realized you had been staring at him longer than you intended, forgetting about the paper completely. “Oh, yeah okay let me look.” you murmured, taking the laptop from his hand to slide it across your lap, the fan whirling softly, the warmth of it adding more coals to the fire you felt already.

He was still staring.

Please look away before I want to kiss you. Or do more then kiss you. I’m supposed to be hating you, stop please.

You tried your best to read and concentrate, but it was next to no use. All you could focus on was him, his fingers drumming on the comforter near your thigh (what man has a comforter anyways?!), and his gaze on you, that was heavy with something. Want, perhaps? Lust? Or you were delusional. Very possible.

“It’s um, it’s good. I like it, I think there’s lots of good… stuff here.”

“Good stuff huh?” he asked sarcastically, a smirk plastered across his face.

He knew. The fucker knew you were down bad.

“Yeah. You know what I mean.” you grumbled, staring back down at your screen.

“I do know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, hand inching closer and closer to your thigh- teasing you. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself.

You could push your hatred aside for just a few minutes. It was okay, just this once. Right?

You bit your lip, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. Nodding to him, as if he could speak to you telepathically.

Yes, this is okay. Please touch me. Just a little, even is fine.

“Maybe you should explain a little more, Parker.”

His fingers skimmed the edge of your skirt, warm to the touch as they stroked your skin softly, just a whisper of him lingering. Goosebumps lingered in their wake, and you pushed your laptop off to the side, not caring where it landed on the bed. Just not next to him.

“How much more?”

His voice was low. Deep. Needing. You wanted more.

Another stroke of his fingers on your thigh, closer to where you wanted him the most made you shiver, toes curling. His gaze never left yours, never faultered. Instead of its usual lightness, his teasing and bullying- his eyes were dark with lust. Nothing but his full attention was on you, and you couldn’t help but shudder as he leaned in closer.

Another hand landed on your thigh. “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough as you nodded quickly. “Mhmmm..- oh!” you let out a little gasp as he swiftly grabbed you, swinging you over to straddle his lap, tossing you as if you weighed nothing.

You hated that you found it hot.

He smirked, leaning forward- so close you could feel his thudding heart with a small hand gesture sliding across his chest, could feel his breath catching. Just a small little gap between his lips and yours.

“You’re going to regret this.” you murdered, fingers curling into his shirt, twisting the soft fabric.

“I won’t. Will you?”

“I might.”

His smile grew.

“ I still hate you, you know.”

“I know. And you look so damn hot when you do.” He pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin, needing you closer and closer despite the two of you practically forming one being.

A clash of teeth and tongue happened, rough and harsh- full of hate and need. A hatred for your need for him. Why did you need him? Of all people?

Because he was so fucking fine.

A hand slipped under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it slightly. You ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it as your hips moved on their own account- causing a groan to slip from his lips.

You’d do anything to hear it again.

“This is so wrong.” was all you could moan as his lips worked their way down your neck, tracing your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.

“I don��t do right, pips. You know this.”

“Mhm. But you hate me.”

He laughed against your skin, and you rocked your hips again, a little slap to your asscheek making you jolt.

“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pips. Whatever you want to think.” he sighed, massaging the skin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

You needed his lips on yours. You didn’t want to even try to decipher what his words meant, your head was foggy with want. You were slipping into a puddle of bliss, finally letting the restraint you held on a tight leash go- freeing the want and pure desire.

Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you hated him. And yes, he teased you. It hurt- but this didn’t. This was a soothe to his constant jabs, a salve to the wounds he caused.

“You feel so good. I want you so bad.” you confessed, causing him to moan again.

Yes. Yes, please.

“You’re killing me.”

“Good. It’s payback for the way you treat me.” you smirked, kissing him again. Hard, fast, rough. Mean.

Until he just… stopped.

Pulled away slightly, making you raise an eyebrow with confusion. His cheeks tinted slightly pink, hair messy and eyes wide with excitement, eager to keep going. To go further. So why did he just- stop?

“Parker?”

He smiled coyly.

“Don’t we have work we need to be doing?” he asked sarcastically- and you felt your stomach drop. He was teasing you. He was doing this just to get under your skin, to leave you high and dry and needing. Knowing damn well nothing could possibly get done now but him.

“You- you just want to get back to work? After that?”

“I want to do the dirtiest things imaginable to you, pips. I want to do so many things. But if we keep going and get nothing done, you’ll regret it and hate me. If we get work done, you’ll hate me too. I rather you hate me but feel secure with this, at least.” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

It was tender, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “So you just, want to work? Did I do something wrong?” you asked.

“Gods no. But it’s too easy if I just give it to you like that. You know me, pips- I tease. Maybe if you’re good and get more work done we can have some harmless, regretless fun.” he winked, sliding his hands down to your hips, picking you up again to toss you gently on his pillows, kissing your hand with a wink as he stood to go back to his desk.

Oh you were fucked. So, so fucked.

“I heard that.” he laughed, and you buried your head in your hands. This was going to be a long three weeks indeed.

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[spider-stark]

HANDS

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Peter is completely oblivious to just how horny you get while watching him work.

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

Without a doubt, Peter was the smartest person you had ever met. Yet, somehow, he managed to simultaneously be the stupidest. 

Prepping for college already kept both of you beyond busy, and the fact that all of his free time was spent clad in spandex swinging around New York didn’t leave the two of you with much time to spend together. Despite this, you two worked hard to make time for each other, with most of your hang-outs consisted of sitting in his room doing totally separate tasks, happy to just be in each other's presence. 

Usually this didn’t bother you. Sure, a part of you missed doing all the normal couple things—like cute little dates or surprise movie nights, but the two of you were just too busy. So you savored the time spent in his company, enjoying stolen glances at one another and silly off-hand comments as the two of you tried to focus on your own work. 

But tonight was different. 

You had already finished all the work you needed to get done for the week and got a head start on next week's tasks, leaving you absolutely bored out of your mind. At first you managed to distract yourself, trying not to disturb Peter’s focus as he attempted to repair his web-shooters. You flipped through his comics, toyed with his camera, and even decided to fold the laundry he had carelessly left in the basket. After practically cleaning his room top-to-bottom, you were left sprawled out on his mattress, left with nothing else to do except sit around and watch him work. 

It was interesting to watch Peter tinker with things, especially when they were related to his secret identity, and so you were content to watch him. For a while, at least. As you watched him you slowly noticed your boredom turning into something…else. 

Peter’s hands were one of your favorite things about him—something he teased you relentlessly for—and they were on full display right now. You watched as his slender fingers moved along the web-shooters, muttering something under his breath about how he couldn’t figure out what he was doing wrong. If you were less distracted you might have offered to help him, just to give yourself something to do, but you were too lost in your own dirty thoughts to acknowledge his words. 

He palmed at his desk, blindly reaching for a screwdriver. Your eyes drifted from his fingers to the top of his hand, watching as his blue veins protruded as he gripped the tool. A low groan escaped his lips, the sound only aiding in the fantasies beginning to swirl in your head, your jaw falling open just a bit. He was still struggling to fix whatever was wrong with them (you had long forgotten what the problem was at this point) and you barely noticed as he let the web-shooter fall roughly against his desk, leaning back in the chair and tangling his fingers in his hair.

Normally you would notice that he was getting frustrated, but you didn’t. You were absolutely gone at this point, thinking of how it felt to have his fingers tangled in your hair. The way it felt when he was feeling particularly cruel—just barely letting his fingertips trace against your skin, the sensation always leaving you desperate for more. He knew what it did to you, those featherlight touches as he moved along your hips, venturing dangerously close to your inner thigh. He liked the noises you’d make, the way you’d start to whimper as he pressed soft kisses to your neck, occasionally grazing his teeth against your flesh. 

It was cruel enough that Peter loved to tease you so much, but it was even crueler that he was capable of doing it without even trying. 

Here he was doing absolutely nothing and yet you could practically feel his skin against yours; the warmth of his palms against your waist or the feel of his nails digging into the thick flesh of your thighs. If your fantasies were real then you would’ve already been begging by now, practically on the verge of tears asking him to put his fingers inside of you. 

The thought was enough to make you snap yourself out of your daydream, squeezing your legs together as you realized just how desperate you actually were for him. He was still leaning back in his chair, completely and totally unaware that his totally innocent actions had left you absolutely soaked. He didn’t pay any mind when you stood up from his bed, eyes still glued to his web-shooters as he racked his brain for better ways to fix them. It wasn’t until you were standing directly in front of him that he finally glanced up at you. 

“You ok?” Concern was the first thing to flash across his features, always worried about you. But as you crawled into his lap, effectively straddling him in the chair, his concern faded to confusion. “Uh-whatcha doin?” 

You rolled your eyes, realizing just how clueless your precious boyfriend was. “What do you think I’m doing?” 

“Trying to get me to take a break?” Pete guessed, smiling when you nodded in response. “I guess I can spare a few minutes,” he teased, hands finally moving to rest on your hips, “wanna go get something to eat?” 

You wondered how it was possible for someone to be so dumb, especially when said person had literal super-senses. In an effort to make your intentions even more clear, you leaned into his body and lightly rolled your hips against his, the tiny bit of friction eliciting a low noise from your lips. 

That little moan seemed to be enough to at least kick his Spidey-senses into gear, his gaze darkening as he finally smelled the arousal building between your legs. You dragged your hips against his again, feeling the now growing bulge in his jeans. About time, you thought to yourself. 

Peter didn’t waste any time upon realizing what you were actually after. He quickly lifted you as he stood from the chair, moving so he could lay you back down on his bed. “Fuck, why go out-” he sunk to his knees, caging his head between your legs, his fingers already toying with the waistband of your pajama shorts, “when I’ve got something to eat right here.” 

You couldn’t hold in your laugh at the comment, though once he got your shorts off that laughter quickly faded into different sounds. 

Oblivious as he may be, Peter Parker knows how to make a girl moan.

a/n - i had posted this on my other blog, but tumblr has decided to show my posts to absolutely no one and refuses to answer my emails asking for support so... new blog i guess? if you wanna read previous imagines for Peter that I've written check out spidey-stark, but I'll be posting on here from now on!

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[literaila]

still here 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: there’s an ache in me, put there by the ache in you

(for @elysian-chaos)

warnings: angst, fluff, feeling unworthy, feeling useless, you know, seperation 

a/n: ‘tis the damn season is the best song ever. dont argue 

*

there's this little thing called stress baking. 

typically, stress baking is referred to as coping by making something delicious to scavenge on, instead of dwelling on the feelings scavenging you. and typically, it's done with a certain type of elegance--one that is made up of chaos. completely insane, yet completely in control. it's a messy dance, but perfectly choreographed. 

stress baking is a very reviving task. filling up the house with muffins and pies is not only good for distracting yourself, but also for making friends when you run out of room. or smiling at the cashier every time you have to go to the store for ingredients. 

it's something you've practiced for years. something you've become somewhat addicted to. 

but then there's baking while stressed. which, you swear, hadn't been your intention. 

brownies from a box were supposed to be easy. they were notoriously easy. a couple of eggs, some oil, and some water. the hardest part of your job was mixing, but you'd done it so many times that you zoned out while doing all of it. 

box brownies were supposed to be non-stress and quick. but when you burn the brownies and batter rises over the top of your glass pan, and the oven is dirty, and the apartment smells like burnt batter and oven cleaner--well, you have to reread the directions. 

you're a good baker. you've been making cookies and cakes for parties for years. you pride yourself on not needing measuring cups because you can eye a recipe by the gram. 

not that these brownies would agree. 

and it's already five-forty-five. peter is going to be home in the next fifteen minutes and this was supposed to be a treat. something good. 

"surprise! i ruined our oven, and now we're going to have to spend the next few nights at your aunt's house in your twin-sized bed until the smell of death goes away!" doesn't typically bring out any smiles.

and peter's been stressed lately, and you've been stressed about him. 

and now you're making brownies from scratch without butter--because you used it all on the last batch, oops--and the number of candles you've lit is a sure fire hazard. 

but if peter would just smile at you, pull you in by your waist and laugh while he kissed you with a chocolate mouth, it would all be fine. 

if there wasn't so much riding on this one (two) pan(s) of brownies. like being able to sleep comfortably tonight. 

you turned the oven down, found a new pan--threw the other one out because it was nothing but a source of disappointment--and cleaned the oven just enough to not draw any suspicions. but you could still feel the failure lurking. 

peter was going to come home to a chaotic house, and it was your fault. 

so you scrubbed at the counters. fixed the stack of bills on the table so that you couldn't see any of the stamps, folded the blankets, and even swept the kitchen floor. 

still, you knew peter would know. because he always knows. and maybe that was why he was acting so weird lately--maybe that's why you were acting so weird. 

the door opened when the timer on the oven went off. 

you'd wanted to watch peter walk through the door--so you could gauge how tired he was, how miserable--but maybe it was better not to know. to let him put on a mask while your back was still turned. 

"hey, baby," he said, as you were pulling the brownies out of the oven, setting his house keys on the counter and sighing. "i'm home." 

you peeked over your shoulder, giving him a hint of a smile--the same type he was giving you. "hey, honey," you said back, "you're home." 

peter walked around the island to stand right behind you, kissing the back of your head and stealing a look over to the stovetop. he clears his throat. "brownies?" 

you shrug. "thought you might like something sweet when you got home." 

you take off the oven mitt, not really wanting to look at him--maybe because you're scared of what you'll see, or maybe just because you can already feel his eyes tearing down your skin. 

but you can feel his breath on your neck as he chuckles. his exhaustion as he leans into your back. 

"i've already got you, though," he whispers one peck at the edge of your jaw, another by your ear. 

you snort and pull away, turning so you can look at him. and then you pretend to throw up. 

he laughs and pokes your forehead.

you're not looking at him and he's not looking at you. 

you turn back to the brownies. 

"did you drop something in the oven?" peter asks, leaning his chin on your shoulder. 

"no," you answer, a bit too defensive. 

"sure?" 

"am i sure that i didn't burn something in the oven, peter? yes." 

there's a beat. "...cause it smells like it." 

you headbutt him. "you smell like it. go shower. you can't eat these yet." 

"yes, ma'am," peter takes a step back, and you look at him again.  you can see the question in his eyes, and see your own reflecting the same question. 

what are you hiding? 

"we have some ice cream, too." 

peter moans, his head back. you roll your eyes at him. 

and you start cutting the brownies, worries, and chocolate chips sticking to the knife, listening to peter's footsteps, feeling his presence sticking to you like sugar, sticky and rich, his eyes keeping you on edge. 

you know you shouldn't feel stupid--peter doesn't actually know what happened, or care--but you do. because he knows, and because even from the split second you looked at him, you could see the strain on his skin, the pressure weighing him down, dragging his feet across the floor. 

you feel stupid just because you don't know what to do. so before he can close the door, you turn around. choosing reaction instead of pretending. 

"peter?" 

he pauses, his head whipping towards you. his eyes are as soft and loving as they always are--his attention remains the same, even when his energy doesn't. like he's wasting himself away just to take care of you. 

he swallows. "yeah?" 

"are you--" you blink, look away, try not to taste burnt brownies. "are you okay? you seem tired. was work… alright? 

peter smiles, shaking his head. "just the usual, bub. work and... work. i think i'll go to bed early tonight?" 

you raise a brow. 

peter clears his throat. "i mean, i think i'll take a nap tonight before i go out." 

you nod. "okay." 

you both stare at each other for a moment. he's far enough away that it's easier. you don't have to feel his emotions as he processes them. don't have to see them from up close. 

you hate yourself for being afraid of him. for being afraid for him. 

“d’ya want to join me?” peter asks, whisper slipping from his mouth, smile taunting from his lips. “we can cuddle and eat brownies.” 

you lick your lips, shaky smile enough. “you sure? i’ve heard i can be a bit distracting…”

peter’s laugh makes his shoulders shake. “you heard correctly,” he says eyes crinkled, “but i don’t mind.” 

you nod. you’re grateful for his ease. the careful reveal of his true face, the peeling of a mask. the admittance that not everything is perfect, no matter how small. 

“go shower. i’ll get the sugar.” 

peter kisses you on the cheek before he goes.

and at least you got a couple of smiles out of him. at least you can feel his kiss lingering on your skin. 

* 

it's not that serious. honestly. 

you hardly even think about it. you're not thinking about it. 

you're not dwelling on the smell of soft skin and the feeling of calloused hands running up and down your back, the tickle of a breath against your neck. 

you're not thinking about it at all. 

and if it's been a week--or a week and a half, or two, or three--since you last spoke, or shared the same space with peter, then it's fine. 

this is something you've grown used to. something you're supposed to be used to. 

peter has obligations. 

he has things he needs to fulfill--not just for himself, but for others, for the guilt that you can see rocking his bones all of the time, the shame in his eyes when he comes home a bit too early. he has places that he needs to be, if only because he won't be able to live with himself if he's not there. 

but then again, you're not sure how to live when he's not here. especially when the sink breaks. 

still, as long as you can feel him pull you into his chest every night, imagine him kissing your forehead before falling asleep, then it's fine. 

you're not thinking about any of it because it's fine. 

but you miss him. if only momentarily. 

he'll come back--you repeat this like a promise, like it's his voice whispering it to you--because he always does. 

space is good for the heart, some part of you swears. though you don't think you could think of peter any fonder than you already do. 

he comes in too late at night and is already gone when you wake up. he texts you updates--because you've talked about communication before--and tells you that he loves you through sweet little notes he sends during the day. 

if the thing he wishes to share about his life is the worm he found in his apple, then you're perfectly happy to listen (read). 

it's normal to miss the person you love most in the world. 

and it's normal for your boyfriend to disappear for fourteen hours each day, just barely cuddling with you for three hours before he's gone again. 

it's normal for you, at least

he’ll come back. 

and so, instead of thinking about peter, and wondering when he might notice the frayed edges of your relationship, you make sure that he doesn't have to worry about anything. 

you clean up after the two of you, running the dishwasher and cleaning the bathroom, and packing him lunch on days you know he'll be gone for the office. making sure there's always something he can eat in the fridge when he gets home late at night, and texting him to know what he wants from the store. 

you make the bed and wash his clothes and hope that maybe it'll keep him from burning out. 

you hope that maybe it will keep you distracted enough to not ask him for anything. like love or support or a five-minute conversation. 

if taking care of him is the only way to keep him going--the only way to keep yourself going--then you'll do it. peter takes care of you enough. 

but even if you're not thinking about it, it's there. 

because you've just fallen asleep--which is extremely rare recently, mostly because you like to wait until you hear the window and then slow your breathing until you feel peter crawl into bed with you--and just woke up. 

woke up with sweaty skin and a headache. it's night ten and you're getting nightmares again. 

it's ridiculous that you can't even last two weeks without peter there. without him kissing you to sleep. 

and when you burst out of bed, you almost fall into him--almost scream because you're sharing the bed with someone else. 

tears are running down your face. your heart feels split open--like your dreams have revealed something inside it. 

but you look over to peter and he's there; he's still here. 

so you take a deep breath--chest caving in, body following--and you rest your head in your hands. 

if there's anything you want right now, it's for peter to wake up. 

it's for him to know all of this. 

you want him to appear next to you, leaning over your back like he's going to shelter from the world if that's what you need. rubbing your back and whispering in your ear. you want him in your house and laughing when you break the shower rod again. 

you want him to cuddle with you before he leaves, and cross his heart when you scold him while he crawls out the window. 

you want him in more than just your memory. 

but peter is snoring next to you, and so you sit there in silence until the tears begin to ease.

*

peter's not supposed to be home. 

he works until five, and then takes the subway home--and you're not expecting to see him anyway. he's been shoving his suit into the bottom of his backpack right as you pull it out of the hamper.

so it's not that unusual for you to be laying in bed, shoes and socks kicked across the floor, hands gripping for some stability, and eyes puffy and red. 

and it's not that unusual for you to squeak when the window opens, and spider-man's head peeks into your room. 

you can feel peter's wide eyes behind the mask. 

you're quick to wipe your face, throw on a clumsy smile. "peter," you say, exhaling. "what're you doing here?"  

a body crawls into the window, dirt and grime on clothes finger-tips reaching out to you. "what's wrong?" he asks, voice only slightly muffled. 

but you take a step back, moving away from him when he lands on the floor, leaving spots for you to vacuum up later. 

"what're you doing here?" you repeat, voice a bit harsher, a bit faded. 

"i need--" he reaches his hand out toward you again, retreating when you do. "i needed some more web fluid. i don't--" he shakes his head. "what happened?" 

"i, um," you wipe traitorous tears away again. "i think there's some more in the closet. i keep moving it when i'm cleaning, sorry." 

"you're crying," peter scolds. like you're being ridiculous. like you're not trying to save him the effort it's going to take to fix this irrational piece of you, these lonely broken bits. 

you bite your lip and look away. 

because although you can't even see his eyes--they are still scolding. they are quick and cruel reminders that you haven't talked to peter in two weeks. 

you turn towards your bedside table, pretending to organize the contents on top. 

you can hear peter moving. 

"what's going on, bub?" he says, soft enough for the words to crawl under your skin. he's taken the mask off. his voice is clear. 

"oh, nothing, you know," you pause, shrugging. "just the usual sad movie type of cry..." peter's hand reaches your back and you flip around, almost knocking over your lamp. 

"c'mon," he whispers to you, far closer than you'd been expecting. 

you try and take a step back, only meeting a dead-end. he's cornered you. "you should go, peter. you were just--" 

"this is more important."

you laugh. "some silly tears are more important than a collapsing building?" 

"you're more important," peter swears, his eyes so focused on yours, "to me." 

you blink and shake your head. gesture back towards the window. "go and save some people. you don't have to help me too." 

peter swallows, brows furrowed. "will you tell me what's wrong?"

"i can take care of myself, peter. you don't need to worry about it." 

"well, i'm going to." 

you roll your eyes. and then you break free of his hold, moving away from the table, from the cage he's built around you. "move along, spider-man." 

peter doesn't move any closer, but his limbs are tense. his face is concerned and hurt--you try and shield that out.

"i'm not leaving you when you're crying."

"i'm not crying anymore." 

peter scowls. "stop deflecting." 

you take a deep breath, throat dry and aching. "i'm not--" you clear your throat, shaking your head and looking away from him. "i'm fine, peter. but some people actually need you. go and save the day," you tell him. "i'll still be here when you come back." 

*

and you are. 

you're sitting on the couch, staring at photos peter took on the wall, wondering how to explain any of it. 

how to explain yourself without digging the two of you any further in this hole. 

you've been trying to prove just how little you need peter--just how useful you could be--and by doing so, you've put yourself in this situation. 

because you do need him. you just hadn't wanted peter to know that. 

so you're sitting on the couch, trying not to flinch every time the air conditioning comes on, or there's a footstep from the apartment above you. you're waiting for peter to climb in through the window, waiting to see how exhausted he is before he has to deal with you. 

and you've bitten your lip raw. completely eliminated any evidence of fingernails you once had. 

your heart stutters with every minute that comes by. 

and when you finally hear peter hop in from the fire escape, your heart stops completely. 

you wonder if he's going to change before he comes and finds you. before the inevitable happens, and you give him another reason to work so late. 

your restlessness must be audible because it only takes peter forty seconds before walking into the living room. he's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. 

he's wearing a frown like a well-tailored suit. known and made for him. 

you're trying not to frown back. 

"hey," you say, putting on a smile, voice flighty and an octave too high. "everything okay?" 

"no one got hurt," peter says, the antonym to your tone. 

"good." 

apparently, your tight-lipped smile isn't enough to ease the tension in the room. 

"are you ready to talk?" peter asks, slowly stepping toward you, just barely meeting your eyes. 

you'd scrubbed your face after he left. sobbed in the shower as you washed away any of the shame you hadn't meant for him to see. you'd made sure that your eyes weren't puffy, and your eyelashes were dry before he'd got home. 

so when peter scans your face--as he's doing now--he shouldn't notice anything unusual. 

besides the facade you're putting on. 

you clear your throat, eyebrows lifted like you're unconcerned. "there's not much to talk about." 

peter's sullen face doesn't move an inch. "why were you crying?" 

"i already told you. i watched a sad movie," you wave a hand, "you just came in at the wrong time." 

peter sighs. he sits down on the couch next to you, keeping his distance. "don't lie." 

you frown. "i'm not lying." 

"you've got some pretty obvious tells, you know," peter whispers, giving you a hint of a bittersweet smile. "you don't have to talk to me. but i'd like it if you did. i just want to make sure that you're... okay." 

"i'm fine, peter." 

he looks away. "and if you're not then we'll figure it out. i just want to know." 

"well, you do." 

peter opens his mouth, then closes it, shaking his head. 

he's sitting three feet away from you, but his hands are clasped together, his legs are opposite of yours, and he can't even look at you. 

you can feel it, as you push him away. as you try so desperately to hold him close without touching him. 

"okay," peter says, eyes meeting yours again. "i don't want to push you." 

no, but he should pull you off of this ledge. should keep you from falling any further than you already have. 

you shake your head, laughing. it's not funny. 

"what?" 

you close your eyes. count to ten. forget how to breathe, or how to speak to the person you love most in this world. 

"what?" peter repeats, but softer. 

you open your eyes. 

and then it all crumbles. 

you scoff. "can you stop looking at me like that?" you plead, breaking away, physically distancing yourself from him. 

"like what?" 

it's his fault, really, for coming home so early in the day. 

"like you can't deal with this. like this is exhausting." 

the tears sneak up on you, knocking you out before you even notice that they're there. 

peter's eyes are wide as he stares at you. "you're not--" he swallows, frantically reaching towards you. "this isn't exhausting--i'm not--" a moment, tears beginning to fall. "what do you--" 

you sigh, shaking your head. "you're always gone, and you come home exhausted every night after you think i've fallen asleep, and you only talk to me through text, and even now you just--" you stop, voice breaking. "if you can't do this," you say, softly, "then you should just tell me." 

peter is closer than he was a moment ago. "what?" 

"i know this is a lot of work, okay? and i know that you're already pushing yourself, so it's fine if i'm too much. if--if loving me is too much." 

there's a moment of silence, and you're almost sure that peter has already left. 

but then there's a thumb wiping a tear from your cheek. you can't open your eyes, can't face the reality you've been desperately holding off. 

"you're not too much." 

peter moves closer to you, his leg touching yours, his hands moving so that he can hold you closer. 

you couldn't push him away if you tried. 

"you're not too much," he repeats, the words sinking into your skin, his breath meeting yours. "i can't believe you would think that." 

you half laugh, half sob. peter wipes away those tears too. 

"you're the only thing keeping me going," he tells you, kissing your forehead. "i'm sorry i haven't been there. i didn't realize..." he shakes his head. 

"you shouldn't have to take care of me as much as you do," you whisper. 

peter nudges his head against yours. "hey. you take care of me way more than i take care of you. you clean up after me and stay up with me when i can't sleep. you help fix my suits, and do all of the laundry. and you never complain. you're practically my guardian angel." 

"that's all easy." 

"not for me," peter says, voice lighter than before. 

you shrug. 

"but you do all of that cause you love me," he adds, kissing your forehead again. "or, i hope that's why." 

"it's the sex." 

peter laughs, nuzzling his head into you. "well, at least you're honest. but, it's the same reason that i take care of you. you shouldn't feel... guilty because of that. you're no burden on me." 

"no?" 

"absolutely not." 

you bite your lip. try and believe peter. but honestly, you're most lovesick from how close he's holding you. how you can feel his skin and listen to him speak somewhere that isn't your bed. you're not quite sure that this isn't a dream. 

"hey," peter moves his head so you're looking at him. "we suck." 

you laugh, leaning your forehead against his. 

"i'm sorry it's been so long since we've... anything. it's been a rough couple of weeks." 

"for me too. it's not your fault." 

"you have to tell me if it's not enough, okay? i don't want you to suffer through it by yourself. if you need to talk to me--even for ten minutes--then you have to let me know." 

"okay." 

"do you promise?" 

you nod against him, nose brushing his cheek. "i promise, peter." 

peter smiles, satisfied. he groans, pulling you even closer to him. "i love you, bug. so much." 

you can barely hear him because of how tight he's hugging you. it sort of hurts, but mostly heals. 

"i know," you say back. but peter probably can't hear you, because you say it right into his shirt. 

*

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf  @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon  @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl    invisibletrolleyson-jeremy  @sharkswaters  @rowniebow @anaislfbv @take-my-hand-time-boy @mileyc111 @starsval @ratsys

#peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter fic #tasm!peter smut #tasm #the amazing spider-man #The Amazing Spider Man #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter angst #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm x reader #tasm x you #andrew garfield #Andrew!Spiderman #andrew!peter smut #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker x you #andrew garfield!peter parker imagine #spider-man #spider man #spider man x reader #spider man x you

[3vergr3en]

Earn it.

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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.

#Spotify #peter parker blurb #tasm peter parker imagine #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter smut #tasm smut #tasm andrew garfield #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter x reader #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter x you #andrew!peter fanfiction #andrew!peter smut #peter parker smut #tasm peter x you #tasm fic #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #the amazing spider man #spiderman #spider-man #spider man smut #spider man imagine #tasm #tasm fanfiction #mcu fic #mcu imagine #smut #andrew spiderman

[know-its-for-the-better]

yall i haven’t been on tumblr in like 20 days BITCH IM READY TO READ SOME SMUTTTTTTT

#tasm!peter smut #andrew!peter parker x reader #peter parker #the amazing spider man #andrew!peter smut #peter parker smut #spiderman #mcu!peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #spider man no way home

[spidernerdsblog]

cool for the summer

A/N : it's really hot and humid over here and I don't know what came over me but here we are. Enjoy this filth and let me know what you think.

Summary : one broken ac, two neighbors with pent up sexual tension. What more could happen?

Pairing : tasm! Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings : 18+, SMUT, minors DNI, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, ice play, spitting, multiple orgasms.

It was the middle of summer, Peter didn’t feel like doing anything except lazing around on his couch in this sweltering heat the whole day. Just then there’s a knock on his door as he frowns wondering who it might be in the middle of the day. He opens his apartment door to find you, his pretty next door neighbor. 

“Hey Peter.” you smiled. Peter did a once over of you dressed in dark denim shorts and a blue tank top knotted in the front exposing a good stretch of your stomach. He tried really hard to ignore the fact that you weren't wearing a bra underneath as he could clearly form the outline of your nipples through the thin cotton of your top. 

“Oh hi Y/N. What's up?” 

“Are you busy?”

“No. Is everything alright?” his brows draw in with concern.

“My ac broke down and it's like melting in there.” you tell him with an agonized expression.

“That's bad. Did you call the company?” 

“Yeah I did and they said I've to wait until tomorrow because Sunday is a holiday.” you explain. “But then I remembered you mentioning that one time about knowing a little bit of the mechanical stuff.” 

“Yes I do.” he concurs.

“I know it’s too much to ask of you but can you maybe come and look at it for once? Please?” 

Peter could never say no to you especially when you’re giving him those puppy eyes. “I can try but there are no guarantees.”

“That will be so nice of you.” your face brightens. “In return I’ll treat you to fresh watermelon which I brought from the farmers market yesterday.”

“You don’t have to repay me with anything.” he chuckles, closing his apartment door and following you to your apartment.

It was relatively hot and humid when your ac decided to give up on you which had left you no other choice than to ask your next door neighbor for help. So when you knocked at his door little did you expect to be treated with him in a black undershirt and gray sweats. It was a rare sight to see him out of his usual t-shirts and hoodies and that is why his bare muscular arms had left you stunned for a second and practically drooling on the hallway.

To be honest you always had a crush on Peter Parker. You both had moved in the building at the same time. He had this whole awkward geek thing going around him with a hint of mischief behind those chocolate brown eyes which promised of more. And from the little conversations you had in the hallways you thought he was cute with his boyish charm and dorky attitude, always ready to help.  

And now he was in your living room standing on a chair in front of the ac unit. He grabs the wrench from the toolbox and starts to unscrew the nut and bolts— the movement making his biceps flex and veins pop out on his arms as you enjoy your free arm porn. His back muscles ripples when he pulls out the dust filters and your mind starts to build up a totally different scenario which required you on your bed and him on top fucking you nine ways to Sunday had you pressing your thighs together. 

“So what do you think?” you ask, shaking out of your dirty daydreams.

“You’re in luck.” he replies. “The filters seem to be blocked with dust, that's why it’s not cooling properly. A little clean up is required, that's all.”

“Oh thank god.” you let out a sigh in relief as Peter steps down the chair.

“Let me just clean them with some water and it will be working just as fine as before.”

You grasp on to his hands “Peter Parker, you're my savior on this hot summer day. I'll be grateful to you all my life.”

“Always happy to help my pretty neighbor.” he gives you one of his boyish grins and casually walks over to your bathroom leaving you with thousands of butterflies in your stomach. 

If you aren’t wrong but that was definitely a little bit of flirting over there. With the giddiness inside you tried to make yourself busy in the kitchen preparing watermelon lemonade. You cut the fruit in half, scooping the flesh to blend it with some lemon juice, mint and soda. By the time you were done pouring the mixture into a pitcher Peter had finished cleaning your ac as well. He screws the case tight and switches on the ac. The first wave of cool air hits your face and you feel like you’re already in heaven.

“Oh…” the moan that leaves your mouth shoots straight down to his cock.

“That good huh?” he chuckles.

“You have no idea.” you smile cheekily. “And as promised, I made fresh watermelon lemonade.” you gestured him towards the kitchen.

“Ah, nothing as refreshing as a lemonade on a hot day like this.”

You fill two glasses with lemonade and place them on the kitchen island. “Wait, let me get some more ice.” you take out the ice tray from the refrigerator to empty it in a bowl before adding a few in your drinks. Both of you pick up your bowls and clink your glasses. “Cheers.”

“It’s really good.” Peter says after taking a sip.

“Thank you.” you smile at him shyly and watch him through the rim of the glass, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows the drink which you find damn sexy.

Peter finishes his drink and his gaze locks on you drinking as some of the lemonade dribbles from the corner of your mouth down to your cleavage. He did not miss how your nipples had pebbled in the cold air and were poking through the top. The sudden urge to lick and taste every inch of your skin makes his throat go dry.

It is implausible how much he has liked you since the very day he met you. The short meetings with you in the hallways while going or returning back from college left him wanting more. Especially when you wore those thin tops and tight shorts that showed off your round ass. The number of times he had fucked his hand imagining it was you riding his cock at night is embarrassing.

He clears his throat brushing aside those thoughts so that his semi doesn’t turn into a full on erection in front of you. “Guess I should get going now.”

He turns towards your door but you didn't want him to leave so you blurt out. “Or you could just stay.” 

“Why does anything else need fixing?” Peter looks at you skeptically.

“I don’t know… it’s still kinda hot in here don’t you think?” you are stalling. Peter could see the desire in your eyes but he still wants to be sure that you want him as much as he wants you.

All these months of secretly pining over each other you were now treading dangerously along the lines. Peter decides to take the brave step and moves around the counter caging you against it. “You do look all flushed.” he observes, tucking a wisp of your hair behind your ear.

“I know right?” you smile nervously.

“I can think of some other ways to cool you down.” his voice husky as he lazily runs a finger down your arm. 

“Really?” you ask quietly, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Want me to show you?” he lifts up your chin and brushes the pad of his thumb through your bottom lip.

“Yes.” it comes out barely as a whisper from your mouth but Peter was quick to catch it. With his eyes trained on you Peter reaches behind you to grab an ice cube from the bowl and pops it in his mouth. 

You watch his every move with anticipation. He leans forward to capture your mouth in a slow tantalizing kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips as he rolls the ice into your mouth. You moan at the delightful sensation of the cold ice mixed with the warmth of his mouth. 

Peter devours your mouth as he sucks and nips playfully on your bottom lip. His hands get frisky exploring the curves of your body before grabbing the front of your tank top, giving it a light tug. It tears into half and your breasts bounce free as you breath out a shocked gasp against his mouth at his sheer strength. 

His large hands cup your breasts feeling their weight in his palms. Quiet whimpers escape your mouth as he squeezes and tweaks your nipples, turning them into hard sensitive points. Your nails scrape the back of his shirt tugging on it. Peter stops for a moment to let you lift his shirt above his head. The heat of his bare chest against your breasts feels good as you run your hands through his toned abs before placing two featherlight kisses on his pecs. 

Peter lifts you by the back of your thighs on the counter and then gently pushes you to lay on your back on the cool granite surface. You hear the clinking of glass as he reaches for an ice cube. Goosebumps rise on your skin when his mouth connects at the nape of your neck with the cold ice held between his lips. He drags his mouth over your collar bones and then down between your breasts leaving a cool trail of water on your flushed skin. He looks up at you, his dark eyes glinting with mischief as he crunches the left over ice with his teeth before popping in another one.

“Relax,” he says and presses the ice cube on your nipple, circling around the stiff bud. Your stomach clenches, a warmth spreading across your lower region as he moves on to your other breast and repeats the same. Your back arches when he slowly drags his mouth down your ribs to your stomach, the cool water feeling like a hot trail of fire. He drops the ice from his mouth on your navel and steps back to watch the ice melt into a pool of water trickling down your sides.

Slowly Peter unbuttons your shorts and slides it down your legs followed by your panties which were now soaked with your arousal. 

“You’re so sexy.” he rasps, lust swirling in those coffee brown eyes. He kneels down and spreads your legs apart, running his hand up and down your thighs in a soothing manner. His hand reaches for the bowl again to pick an ice cube and pops it in his mouth. 

Peter kisses the inside of your thigh, holding the ice between his lips he slides it up your soft skin. Your body tenses when you feel his warm breath against your aching core but to your disappointment he ignores your dripping wet pussy and kisses his way down your other thigh. 

You whine in protest, squirming unable to take anymore of his teasings which only earns you a throaty chuckle from him. 

“So needy. Don't worry baby, I'll take care of you.” 

He spreads your pussy lips and lets a cool trail of spit drip down your slit. It’s downright filthy but also turns you the hell on finding out this kinky side of your sweet nerdy neighbor. Peter pulls the ice cube to the back of his mouth before diving in.

“Oh fuck!” your hips jerks off the counter at the onslaught of his cold lips wrapped around your sensitive bud. A heavy hand comes to rest on your stomach holding you in place as Peter swirls his tongue over your clit while your hands dig his thick hair.

Peter rolls the ice across his tongue and presses it against your engorged clit with his mouth. You let out a little scream tugging on his hair way too harshly and he groans into your heat. He holds it for a few seconds before sucking it back in his mouth. He runs the tip of his tongue in a straight line from your pussy to your clit making you moan and scream again as he presses the cube against you. 

The ice melts rapidly between the heat of his mouth and your pussy turning into a small ball. Peter dips his head and pushes it inside you with his tongue. Your body shudders as he thrusts in and out fucking you with his tongue. Pleasure surges inside you and you begin to cum. But Peter doesn’t stop as he laps up all your juices along with the pool of water dripping out of your hole. You are still high on your first orgasm as you feel the second one building quicker than before. Peter presses his thumb against your swollen clit drawing tight circles and you fall apart screaming out his name.

You were panting hard, expecting him to stop but he’s so drunk on your taste that he continues to lick up and down your slick folds with the flat of his tongue.

“Peter…” you squirm away from his mouth.

“One more baby girl.” he croons, sliding two fingers inside you with ease.

“I can't.” you groan as your whole body feels like a bundle of exposed nerves. 

“Yes you can. Give me one more and then you can have my cock.” he curls his fingers against your g-spot and his mouth is back on your clit, sucking it hard to the point where the lines between pleasure and pain seem to blur. Your eyes roll back into your head as spots cloud your vision and then you explode all over him. 

“Holy shit!” he exclaims. Your body feels like a limp noodle, ears still ringing from how hard you came as you weakly lift your head to look at Peter between your legs— he was drenched down to his chest. 

You squirted, you fucking squirted. 

Embarrassment flames up your face but Peter just smiles and stands up to lean down and press his lips softly on your forehead whispering “you did so good for me.” and lifts you in his arms, carrying you to your bedroom. 

Your back hits the soft linen of your mattress as you lie motionless watching him. You couldn’t decide what you liked more. His chiseled jaw, those bulging biceps, the flat planes of his stomach or the sharp dips of his hips. But then he pushes down his sweats and boxers and his long, hard length bobs in front of him making your mouth water.

He catches you staring and grins. “Like what you see?”

“Yeah it’s alright.” you try to play cool even though the reality was far from alright as you wonder how that big of a dick is going to fit inside you without splitting you into half. The math seems a little bit hazy for you right now.

Within seconds he’s on top of you peppering kisses down your neck and breasts as you squeal and wriggle underneath him. “I’m gonna see how alright you feel when I’m done with you.” 

“Promises, promises.” you giggle before your breath hitches when he shoves two fingers into your pussy, finding you wet and ready for him.

“Condom?” he asks.

“Second drawer.” Peter leans over to open the drawer of your bedside table and a huge grin appears on his face discovering your little toy collection. 

“You got a nice collection in here.” Your eyes go wide when you realize what he is talking about. 

“I wonder who do you think of when you use those little toys of yours hmm?” he tears the foil with his teeth and rolls the condom down his shaft. Your cheeks heat up as you look away hiding your face in the pillow.

“Now don't get shy on me, Y/N. Tell me who did you think of while you played with this little pussy?” he rubs the head of his cock through your sensitive folds teasingly.

“You… Peter.” you stutter.

“We should use them.” 

“Now?”

“No, some other time. Today it would be just us.” he lines his tip to your entrance and slowly pushes in. 

He was barely a few inches in and it had you gasping for air at how his thick girth was stretching you to your limits. “Oh god… you're so big.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” he grins and slowly withdraws to push in a bit more deeper. Your back arches as he repeats the motion gaining another inch. Peter thought he had prepared you enough with the three earth shattering orgasms he gave you earlier but it was still a tight fit. Your pussy grips him like a vice as he tries to be gentle, grunting with each thrust to fully sheath himself inside you. 

You press the heels of your feet into his ass cheeks pulling him closer. “Fuck me already, I can take it.” you rasp impatiently.

There goes being gentle as your command sends a shiver down his spine and he gives one hard thrust filling you to the hilt. Your back bows off the bed pushing your breasts to his eager mouth as he captures one pert nipple and flicks his tongue over it. Your moans were music to his ears. 

“One last question, do you still think I’m alright?”

“Oh god Peter you’re fucking perfect. I can feel you up in my throat. Now move please.” you almost sob in desperation.

Satisfied with your answer he pulls back and slams back into you. Your body moves up the mattress with each powerful thrust and he is entranced watching your breasts bounce everytime. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies as you find a rhythm. A tight knot forms inside your stomach as your walls clamp around him tighter and he almost loses his goddamn mind at how good you feel. His hands cup your ass lifting you up the angle allowing him to pick up his pace and pound into you deeper.

“Ah right there! Don’t stop!” your nails score down his back when he hits that magical spot. Your body trembles and you bite down on his neck as your orgasm sweeps through you. Your walls flutter milking every last bit of pleasure out of him and he moans, pumping harder before his hips stutter coming undone with his own release. Your bodies quake with the aftershock of your orgasms as you pull him closer sealing your lips together in slow, drugging kisses not yet ready to let him go.

“This was the best sex of my life.” you say between ragged breaths.

“So do you’ve anything else to fix?” he grins widely.

“Yeah my legs, they feel like jelly. I don't think I can walk properly for a month.” 

“That means I did a good job.” he replies smugly as he brushes away your messy hair sticking to your forehead.

“No need to get so cocky now.” you give a light shove on his shoulder and he finally pulls out to lay on his back beside you.

“You wanna go out sometime?” he asks.

“Go out you mean like a date?”

“Yeah” he turns on his side. “I like you a lot Y/N and I’ve been meaning to ask you out for quite some time before we had sex. That doesn’t mean I regret whatever happened today because I really liked it and I don’t want you to get the impression that I’m some kind of a fuck boy and and…”

You find rambling Peter adorable a stark contrast to the confident and dominant Peter who fucked your brains out a while ago. So you decide to bring him out of his misery and cut him off. “Peter, I like you too and I would love to go on a date with you.”

For a moment Peter goes speechless before he finds his words back. “Thank you.”

“You hungry? I’m gonna order some Thai” you prop yourself up on your elbow.

“Yeah sounds good.”

“Ok, I’ll be right back.” you kiss his nose and slide out of the bed to go and find your phone in the living room but not before turning around with a sly grin. “Maybe after that I can show you my toys.” 

Reblogs are appreciated ❤

#andrew garfield #andrew!peter smut #andrew!peter x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter smut #andrew!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #andrew garfield smut #andrew garfield x reader #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine

[foreverrogers]

peter. thighs. peter being obsessed with his partner’s thighs.

peter is a thigh man and a tits man and that is my stance. all i could think about when i read this was facesitting so uhhh.... smut under the cut

okay but even in a non-sexual context, this boy would always have his hand resting on your thigh when you're sitting next to each other, forever a comforting force as he rubs his thumb back and forth against your skin and holds this small piece of physical contact.

but at the same time he would absolutely use the constant contact to tease you when you least expect it, especially if you're wearing a skirt or dress and the trail of bare skin just seems too inviting. back seats of cabs and table cloths at restaurants are no match for the way peter always needs to be touching you, slips his hand between your legs until he's skating up enough it hitches your breath, makes you glare at him and mutter something about being in public while he smirks at you.

and in bed there would always be some sort of grasp on your thighs, whether it be a bruising grip keeping your leg hiked up around his waist as he fucks into you, kissing down the inside of your thighs and leaving tiny lovebites before he eats you out, or, the thing i physically cannot get out of my head, those hands splayed around the outside of your thighs pinning you to his mouth as you ride his face.

I'm convinced the first time peter suggests it, it's because he wants to feel the pressure of your thighs lock around his face. you've been lazily making out in bed for god knows how long, you in his lap with your thighs slotted around his, and when the arm around your waist presses you so close you have to kneel up peter's only thought is of how easy it would be to slide down and have you right over his face.

"what d'you think about trying something?"

you narrow your eyes at him, can't help the small smirk you give when you notice how hopeful he looks, bites his lip as he blinks up at your through those lashes. "like what?"

"like..." he trails off, and you watch him flush a little as he struggles to just come out and ask for it, instead uses his grip on your waist to keep you on your knees as he slides onto his back. your mouth sets into a small gape as you watch him, find the idea of it immediately ignites the well of heat in the pit of your stomach. you're quiet for so long peter starts to think you're trying to say no, flushes deeper with a tinge of embarrassment as he leans up against his elbow, his other hand still at your waist. "you don't want to?"

"I... didn't say that." he smiles a little when you push him back flat against the mattress. your skirt has already pooled above your hips, and with only the this barrier of your panties inches away peter can already smell the arousal you seem reluctant to admit.

he licks his lips, like he's hungry for it, like he's about to start drooling all over the sheets if he doesn't get to taste you soon.

"you sure?"

"god, yes."

his hands slip behind you, firm on the swell of your ass as he encourages you up towards him until you're hovering over his face. his fingers tease the band of your panties, holds your gaze as he slowly starts to tug them down your legs. you lift each knee one by one, let him slip the fabric off of your body and then you're bare, so close he can smell the hot arousal pooling in your lower half.

"you ready?" you nod, already find yourself speechless despite what you knew was coming. "tell me if it's too much, yeah?"

"yeah," you breathe, and then large hands are grasping the sides of your thighs, gentle pressure urging you down until you're close enough to taste.

the feeling of his mouth on you is like a different type of euphoric, tongue circling your clit before sucking the small bundle between his lips, keeps his eyes trained on yours the whole time.

you're still uncertain, though, still think you might hurt him, have to consciously resist the writhing urge to chase the friction by rocking against his face.

the force of his hands around your thighs tells you he notices, also tells you that the restraint isn't necessary, presses you so firmly against him that it sends a fresh shock of pleasure up your spine, makes you grip the headboard in front of you as you throw your head back. it also makes the first circle of your hips involuntary.

once he feels it, he needs more, hums his approval against your clit and urges your movement with every tug to your thighs.

"god, feels so fucking good, pete. so perfect."

it doesn't take long for it all to overtake you, your free hand tangling through his hair as the rocking of your hips picks up, hardly needs his encouragement anymore before you're riding his face.

peter feels it build, the way your thighs flex and tighten under his touch and around his face, drowns him in the sweet warmth of you surrounding him.

he would be lying if he said that wasn't what he was chasing when he makes you cum, feel your slick drip down his chin and digs his fingers into the flesh of your thighs as they lock around his face, trembling as he works you through the shattering orgasm.

when you finally breathe out a shaky sigh and start to lean up on your knees he kisses the inside of your thighs, nips at the delicate skin until you're grinning down at him.

he truly is a sight there, between your legs, mouth and chin sticky and glistening.

"we made a mess," you smile, reach down to try and clean up his face.

he grins right back up at you. "might as well make some more before we have to change the sheets."

#tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #andrew!peter parker x reader #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #andrew garfield #tasm!peter parker angst #tasm!peter parker smut #tasm!peter smut #andrew!peter smut #tasm peter smut #hayes muses

[clarks-letterman]

Okay but like…Bully!Male reader falling for Nerdy!Pete…and like things escalate once you have detention and have to clean the tables of your class and The sexual tension is sky rocketing so much so Pete has to use his hands to hush you incase someone heard the…commotion 😭

I'M LOVING EVERY WORD!! ...let's get this written >:D

a/n — thanks for requesting this and i tried to work it in the best i could!

summary — check the request above! it's basically 1 to 1

warnings — smut! top!peter parker and bottom!reader, creampies, anal sex

words — 3.8k (i think my longest fic so far)

~~~

The end of the school day had finally arrived; for most, it was a joyous celebration as it marked the start of the two days between this grueling week and the next one to follow, but for two individuals, that end was just the beginning of their time in detention.

"Back again, huh? I guess you missed me," Peter spoke, having only just set his bag on the side of his desk as he leaned up to see you taking a seat at the desk next to his. Immediately, he took a hand to his hair, toying with it to look a bit better before the conversation was set in motion.

You were quick to respond with a bite to your words, "Shut up, Parker. Why are you even here? Fall asleep from staying up too late again?"

Peter—unperturbed by your sudden outlash towards him—leaned forward on the oak surface of his desk and explained how he had ended up with a slip for detention, "That's a really weird guess, but, no, riding my board in the halls. It actually made a bunch of marks this time on the floor—"

"I, actually, don't care," You fulminated to the other boy. Sure, it was inconsistent—considering that you had asked him how he landed in detention—but a few days ago, you stumbled into a web of emotional entanglement after a shocking realization that seemed impossible to escape; you liked Peter Parker.

At first, it was a hard pill to swallow, a pill so confusing that you couldn't even name what was in it; it was simply an imbalanced mix of every emotion packed into something that no ordinary medicine would ever make you feel. Ironically, it never made you feel better. It only caused you to feel sick to your stomach whenever you saw Peter. 

You thought it was a desire to befriend him that left you feeling that way after every interaction. Maybe after all those years of being under Flash's coercion to bully the poor guy for laughs, you had realized what you actually wanted to see—you wanted to see him by your side, walking down the hall with you. The lockers that you used to cheer Flash on for shoving him into would salute the two of you as the ringleader of bullies himself would be stuffed away into one, with no one to help him.

But the more you thought about Peter, the more you wanted him. There were times in class when you would look at him, and time would stop. It felt like you could analyze every detail on his face in just a single glance but still have so much more to see behind it. Your eyes grew to know the path of his features, where certain things turned into an abrupt dead-end only to bleed into the surrounding, insanely alluring attributes. And as your feelings grew for the nerd, so did the number of times you thought about him and how perfect he was.

Hell, you were doing it now during your talk with him, watching how he sported a smirk across his face, eyes scornfully slit with a glare to combat your rude words carelessly tossed at him. His comeback to it came out a bit stilted once he deduced that your eyes lingered on him, "Well—," he cleared his throat, "—well, thinking about riding over your face helped give the extra push my board needed. Thanks, man."

"Of course," You mused, feigning compassion for the other boy. At this point, you realized that the classroom was empty apart from you and Peter. Though, in just a few moments of silence, the door opened. A faculty member entered the classroom, the handles of two buckets hung from his grip, janitorial supplies teeming over the brim from both.

He walked to the small margin of space given by the two desks you and Peter sat at, placing one plastic pail on each desk, "Alright, Mr.Parker and Mr.(L/n). I've decided to give the both of you a punishment that I think fits well—you'll be cleaning all the desks in this room, along with a few other areas around here, too."

The teacher strode to the chalkboard at the head of the classroom, turning away from the both of you to write the areas you had to clean on the black surface. Over the loud squeak of chalk marking the solid surface and the teacher's radio cutting through with intermittent static, Peter leaned towards you, asking his own question, "Why are you here?"

"Drawing on the desks," You replied hushedly. Unfortunately, it was loud enough for the teacher to hear you talk.

"Gentlemen! I don't want to have to remind you—no less than five minutes into the class—that this is detention and not a place for—," The teacher's receiver went off, signaling that he was needed on the other side of the school. He huffed at the request and carried himself to the door, "Get to work you two, I'll be back in a little to check your progress."

You shot to your feet, standing over the bucket on your desk. Inside the pail, there were bottles of various cleansing sprays for all kinds of surfaces, a couple pairs of rubber gloves, and a few large sponges. 

"Let's get this done," You stated, picking out a random bottle from the bucket and slipping on the elastic gloves with ease. Peter did the same, muttering some snarky comment under his breath that you couldn't hear.

To you and Peter's surprise, cleaning the surfaces of each desk and the chalkboards integrated into the walls turned out to be a cakewalk. You neared the last row of desks in the back of the room—where you and Peter sat—while Peter worked on cleaning a blackboard at the front of the room. Cleaning your way down the line of desks, you got to your own seat, squeezing the bottle handle as it squeaked out a few spritzes of the cleanser inside onto the wooden surface.

With the sponge in your other hand, you wiped the mixture around the desk until no dry areas remained. Peter's desk was the last one you would have to clean, and then you were done with your part of the room. You rounded your desk and moved to Peter's, following the same pattern as how you had cleaned the rest of the desks. Then, you noticed to the side of his desk sat his bag, beaten and marked up from the dirt and whatever else was on it. You laughed to yourself, thinking that this could be an easy way to mess with the other boy. You tugged at the zipper as you checked to ensure Peter wasn't looking.

On the other side of the room, Peter stood on the tips of his toes, his sneakers showing heavy creases as he tried to reach a bit of writing at the very top of the blackboard. As a result, his shirt had lifted to reveal a bit of his torso. If your jaw wasn't saved by the mercy of your mandible, it would have dropped to the floor at the sight of him. Instead, your heart plummeted to your stomach, and that feeling you had for Peter came rushing back. Your mind immediately gravitated to a myriad of thoughts dirtier than a New York alley—ones that involved Peter, on his back, with ropes of glossy white coating his abdomen. 

To block those feelings and thoughts out, you turned back to his bag, hoping that messing around with him would untangle the Gordian knot in your stomach. You started pulling at the zipper again, doing it softly so that Peter wouldn't hear it. You let the small, metallic rectangle dangle on the other side of his bag once you towed it along its path, parting the pieces of fabric to reveal the inside.

Your hand went for the first thing inside the backpack, a pile of some fabric that you assumed to be an extra pair of underwear given the material. It would be a perfect way to embarrass Peter, especially since it was probably something nerdy like Spider-Man boxers—or even worse, Star Wars boxers. You slowly pulled it out of his bag, careful not to make any noise as you did.

You immediately recognized what it was, your hands running over it frantically to try and confirm that it was fake, but it was Spider-Man's mask, complete with a matching suit sitting just under it in his bag. There was no way that this wasn't genuine. 

But that would mean that Peter Parker is Spider-Man. The nerd who looked like a breeze could carry him away was fighting criminals at night. 

“Holy shit,” You muttered at the newfound revelation, but it was loud enough to pull Peter’s attention over to you. He had finally noticed what you were doing and dropped the eraser in his hands.

"Hey, put that back!" Peter yelled, rushing towards you with a concerned expression. You did what he said and frantically dropped it back into his bag, spewing out mindless apologies to him. 

He cut you off as one of his hands cupped your mouth, his other landing on your chest to push you back against the nearest wall, "(Y/n), I need you to be honest with me. Are you going to tell anyone?"

Your eyes were wide as you shook your head. While you were surprised that Peter was Spider-Man, your mind had flown from that fact to how close Peter was to you. He had never gotten this close or this physical with you, so this contact brought a rising heat to your face as the crotch of your pants felt more restrictive than before. The smell of him poured out to you without him doing much of anything, and 

His impossibly powerful grip didn't lessen; he was still unsure of whether or not he could trust you. After all, you were a bully to him and others alike, so trust wasn't something established in your relationship with him. But, the longer he held onto you, the more your attraction to him became noticeable. On his end, he could hear your heart beating faster and faster with each passing second, while you figured he was going to spot the growing tent you sported. 

Peter would be lying if your proximity to one another didn't entice him too, as it distracted him from thinking straight about you knowing his secret identity. Outside of your adverse interactions, Peter cherished the moments where you two seemed to bond over something, whether you were asking him for help with the homework or quizzing each other on types of chemical equations. All of it made him wish that the social influences of high school hadn't whisked you away towards a life of making poor choices alongside the rest of the bullies stalking the halls. 

Even if there wasn't a close connection between the two of you, he planned on closing the distance between you—in more ways than one. He didn't want to be the guy who admired your looks through his computer screen while editing a photo for Midtown; he had always wanted to make you right your wrongs and stand up to Flash one day. Peter wasn't sure how he would do it, but he hoped it was possible. If not for his feelings, he wanted to do it for you. He pondered over the idea of bringing you closer since the ringing of your heartbeat in his ears seemed to say it all.

While Peter's panic seemed to have slowly dissipated into nothing, your's was on the rise. Every humiliating thought worked its way into your mind since Peter was bound to notice your aversely expressed feelings for him. He would have the perfect ammunition to pluck you from your place on the school social ladder and drop you into the void of irrelevancy. Not that you cared much for it, but coming to school after this wouldn't be easy. But, as much as your mind led you to believe in one specific outcome from this whole thing, it took a turn that you didn't see coming. 

Peter had let out a relieved sigh, his grip keeping you against the wall loosened. His hand didn't feel like it was about to rip your face off with one quick pull anymore; instead, he moved it to cup your face. His other hand snuck up to your shoulder to pull you away from the wall and into his embrace. This was his chance, and he decided to take it.

Your tense body loosened in line with Peter's hold on you, making it easy to place your arms around him once you were away from the wall. The simmering fear turned into enthrallment at the wonder of where he was taking this. He had brought you close to him—that was the first step—and all he had to do now was close the remaining gap between you and him. 

Quickly, Peter bridged the distance between you and him with his lips pressed to yours. At first, it was only a quick peck as Peter pulled back to see your reaction, but you yanked him back onto you with a craving for more before he could even take one look at you. It just felt so easy. Easy enough to guide Peter back to his desk, his back firmly pressed to the tan hardwood surface. Your lips never left the other for even a single icy second, embracing in the warm air hitting each other's skin. It was almost hard and desperate with every repeated press to the other, like a counter for the countless years of denying the truth with anger and pity. You wouldn't be surprised if you pulled away and saw his already full lips look like he had just gotten knocked in the face.

Peter's hands slid down your body, stopping just short of your pants and letting his hands soar up the underside of your shirt, bunching it up as he went. He guided you back and peeled himself away from the desk to strip the shirt from your shoulders and over your head. Peter's shirt landed over yours a few seconds later, and he was pressing your bare back to the stiff plank of wood with metal legs as he returned to crushing your lips with a loving force. His bulge mirrored the action above as it pressed to your trouser-clad thigh.

Inbetween each kiss, he warns that you two will have to be fast through a breathy rasp. He was right—at any moment, a teacher could walk in and see the ungodly sight of the both of you pressed into each other, contaminating one of the desks.

"Okay," You huffed. Peter pulled away from you and turned to rummage through his bag on the floor. He popped his head back up, softly calling out your name to grab your attention as if the half-full bottle of lube in his hand wasn't pulling enough, "Do you want to use lube? I mean I don't know if you prepped or anything."

You sat against the edge of his desk with both hands placed at the two corners behind you for support, "No! I came for school, not sex. Why do you even have that here?"

He stood tall again, towering over you as he moved closer, "It's for the suit. Sometimes swelling from an injury won't go down, so it's useful."

You laughed and pulled him down to you for a quick peck, "I still can't believe your Spider-Man."

"You're lucky I don't have any web-fluid on me," He teased, "But I can't believe I'm really doing this." Peter placed the bottle over on your desk, his hands gravitating to the button and fly of his dark denim pants. Your eyes followed down the funnel-like shape his sex lines provided and watched in anticipation for the tease of his bulge to lose its place to the real thing hitting the classroom air. The whir of his zipper felt like it lasted forever as he parted the woven flaps and bunched the elastic waist of his boxers to let his cock free.

You could have sworn that your mouth fell open as it kept going. Peter was anything but small. The length alone was enough to make you swoon and hit every spot you could ask it to, but the girth was just as impressive. You were sure it could leave your hole gaping for days after this, and you were about to find out. 

"Who knew Parker was packing?" You joked, attempting to feign any emotion created by the wave of nervousness stabbing your heart as you doubted your ability to take someone his size.

A smile grew on Peter's face as he took his painfully impressive length into his right hand and grabbed the bottle of lube with his left. He flicked open the cap with ease, giving it a few shakes to force the lube to the top of the bottle as he flipped it over. He casually squirted a thick line of lube over the top of his cock, replying to you while he did it, "I think that's the nicest thing you've said to me, like, ever."

"I'll be even nicer in a few minutes when that's destroying me from the inside-out," You joked, knowing that even with the help of the slick substance, you will probably still be crying to whatever God that sculpted Peter in their image. It was breathtaking to watch Peter's left arm flex with each tug of his equally stunning cock. Your voice softened in defeat at the realization that this was a risk, temporary, and far from the ideal way to be intimate with the nerdy guy, "But, we can't be loud, right?"

"Right," Peter agreed, stepping close to you as he let his stiffening length swing with each step. He kept his slick hand near him as he used the other to pull you onto your back and shuck off your pants and boxers, ass in view for the world to see. He tossed them down to the ever-growing pile of clothes at his feet, using the lube left on his fingers to trace over your hole. You moaned at his cold fingers lightly grazing over your entrance, your head reflexively leaning over the edge of the desk.

After a few moments of teasing your hole, Peter brought both of your feet up and over his shoulders, taking his slicked cock in hand and guiding his cockhead to it. You felt it gently graze over your hole before Peter pressed his hips forward, ushering himself into with a certain eagerness. He had to restrain his urges to turn you into a mess as payback for the years of teasing, especially since your first reaction to him stretching your ass was to let out something between the noises of a moan and cry. Peter was big. Big enough to cause an overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure.

"Hey—hey, you have to be quiet, okay?" He asks. A calloused hand imprinted on your perfect features to cover your mouth. It pained Peter to know that he couldn't hear the beautiful sounds that his size alone would emit, annoyingly muffled by the palm of his hand. Your hole would have to efficiently communicate your pleasure with each spasm and contraction against his cock.

You nodded and felt him slowly press on, stretching your ass with each passing inch. Eventually, Peter bottomed out inside you, and your assumptions about his size rang true; your small ring of pink would be left agape by the end of this. He starts to nudge his way back, putting a hand on your hip for support to pull his own hips away before driving himself deep into you.

Peter repeated himself, and his thrusts quickly increased in strength, growing more painful and pulling louder and louder noises from you, only to be muffled by the palm of his hand. Though, the smacking of skin said enough to make up for your or Peter's lack of words at the moment. You vented your pleasure into giving yourself a sloppy handjob. You could barely keep your hand taut enough to jerk your own length with each intense pounding Peter gave. This would have been the perfect moment for 'Spider-Man' to have eight arms instead of two.

As he went on, Peter moved with great stealth, letting each moan and grunt pass through his teeth to keep quiet. But, his drive to reach a climax is needy and desperate to the point where he huffed out every breath in short bursts.

Your climax came into view faster than the speed Peter embodied. And with just a few light tugs on your own cock, you shot out a few ropes of hot white release. The walls of your ass tightened around Peter's length as you did, sending Peter over his own edge.

"Fuck, fuck," He moaned while pulling out of you, making sure to keep his voice low.

Peter flipped you onto your stomach, keeping a hand on your hip. The heat from your back ruminated on the wooden desk as you gained a new look at the classroom. Everything was in your view aside from Peter, who towered over your pathetic ass as he wrapped his fingers around his cock and tugged himself towards his climax. You could feel his entire arm tremble and stiffen, hearing a loud moan echo through the silent room as the hot sensation of his release hit your lower back and the crack between your two mounds. 

If it wasn't enough, a bristling feeling left the hairs on the back of your neck in pointing shock as something broad and wet ran over your perineum and slowly up between your backside. As Peter reached your lower back, he laved your skin with small laps to clean up the ropes of come he sprayed on you. He soaked in the salty and bitter flavor of your skin and his release on his tongue as you poured out a myriad of moans that were euphonic to him. He made sure to get everything and swallow it down before rising to his feet. Once you stopped feeling him messing around with your rear, you turned to see him getting dressed.

"What?" He laughed, "We gotta clean up this mess. You heard the teacher!"

"I can't believe you," You jokingly scoffed for an added effect, bending over to pick up your clothes. Peter snuck in a few glances as he pulled his shirt over his head, "So, can Spider-Man swing by later? Or should he come here tomorrow?"

#marvel #peter parker #spiderman #andrew!peter parker #andrew garfield my beloved #andrew garfield spiderman #tasm peter parker #peter 3 #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #andrew garfield x male reader #andrew!peter smut #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm x male reader #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter fanfiction #spiderman x male reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman smut #peter parker smut #request #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!spiderman x male reader #marvel x reader

[esha-isboogara]

quiet down

this was written after i saw the new movie so excuse the…horny. i tend to forget how to act around pretty boys like him.

andrew!peter parker x reader

peter won’t stop just because of a phone call.

☆ MINORS GET ON OUT!!! , porn what plot, piv sex, praise, dom!peter, a bit of praise

y/n dug her nails into the pale skin of peters muscled shoulders,applying pressure as he increased his speed. droplets of blood could be seen if one were to look hard enough.

it would leave a nasty wound the next morning you were sure of it. but it didn’t matter now. the feelings were overwhelming.

"you just can't seem to help yourself can you"? he said with a playful smile while gripping her waist and pounding into her core. hitting all the right spots and angles.  "love my dick that much hmm? i can tell how much you love my cock inside you. actually i find it really cute”.

words were not able to form. all she could do was nod. eyes squeezed shut , mouth half open.

"no answer huh? you're more cock dumb than i had thought. you gonna cum ? go ahead princess , let go”.

the ringing of a cell phone pierced both of their ears at once.

"fuuuck, i gotta take this baby". he said with an exasperated sigh after glancing at the glowing screen of the phone.  "it's my lab partner..we're meeting up tomorrow to complete our final project or something along those lines".

the way he said it was so nonchalant. it was almost ridiculous. he was right in the middle of giving you the best dick down of your life and he was taking phone calls.

you slowed your pace down to a halt, a wave of disappointment rushing over your body. your orgasm was fast approaching and now it had come to a complete halt.

"hey dude what's up". he said in a cool tone before turning to you and mouthing the words "did i say stop"?

you were still for a few seconds unsure of what to do.

he was on the phone for gods sake. if his friend heard you the embarrassment would surely kill you.

peter wrapped one of his strong arms around your waist and got to his feet. at that moment you were sure you could feel him in your womb.

biting your tongue as hard as you possibly could was all you could do from screaming his name. the sweet sensation of being filled to the brim was nothing short of euphoric.

gracefully he placed her on her back atop the mattress still holding the phone to his ear.

"Yeah yeah man. this city is getting crazy...mhm..yeah yeah hold on a second my girlfriend needs something".

he put the call on mute. "i'm not gonna stop fuckin ya just because he's on the phone...i just need you to be quiet. you wouldn't want him to know you're just my cockdumb slut now would you"?

again you nodded, unable to form words at this point. broken moans and gasps were all that came out.

his thrusts became less erratic. “now be a good girl for me okay? think you can do that”?

#blurb #drabble #smutty blurb #smutty drabble #marvel x reader #marvel smut #andrew!spiderman #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #andrew!peter smut #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #spider man x reader #spider man smut #spider-man 2014 #amazing spider man #esha writes #Spotify

[swtki]

Swtki’s 2.5K follower celebration !

Aaaah thank you guys so much for 2.5 K !!!!!

18+ only content ahead - minors will be blocked as well as ageless blogs !

P Links :

Eddie Munson

Punishing sub! Eddie when he’s been bad

Giving virgin! Ed his first hand job

Eddie loves to be EDged

Boob man Eddie

Jock! Gf with Eddie

Steve Harrington

Riding Steve

Steve loves watching his cum drip out

Sub! Steve eating his girl out

Sub! Steve being edged

Steve painting her face

Missionary with Steve

Jonathan Byers

Ruining J’s fav shirt

Making out with needy! Jonathan

Boob man Jonathan

Amazon Position with sub! Jonathan

Riding J while wearing his shirt

TASM! Peter Parker

Making out with Peter

Shower sex with Sub! Peter

Peter has a breeding kink

Peter Teasing

Peter finger blasting

#elitalksshit #stranger things smut #stranger things p link #p link #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers x reader smut #jonathan byers smut #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson p link #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #andrew!peter smut #andrew garfield x reader smut #andrew garfield x reader #tasm peter parker smut #tasm!peter x reader #peter 3 smut

[kristannefoxx]

I’m blowing up all my liked tings! Yes I heavily simp for Andrew Garfield and Tom holland for Peter Parker don’t mind me 👀

-Kristanne 🦊✌️

#andrew!peter imagine #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #andrew peter parker #andrew!peter smut #andrew!peter parker x reader #andrewgarfieldedit #andrew peter parker x reader #andrew garfield #tasmedit #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #tasm 2 #tom holland peter parker #tom!peter parker x reader #tom holland

[spider-stark]

A DARK AGE - PREVIEW

a tasm fan fiction // coming june 2023 // click here to read notes

“Spider-Man’s not a murderer.” You weren’t entirely sure who you were attempting to convince with the statement; Jameson or yourself.

Jameson’s shoulders lifted into a lazy shrug, leaning back in the rickety chair. You knew his opinion on Spider-Man, knew his stance on the matter. Still, even he knew that Spider-Man had never crossed that line before. “No, he isn’t.” He agreed with you. “But he’s about to be. He’s the only one that can be linked to the crime scene. If Sytsevich dies—and it’s only a matter of time—then Spider-Man’s the one who goes down for it.”

Your mind was reeling, gaze falling to the floor. Coffee still leaked from your cup, causing the already prominent stain to grow in size, but you didn’t care.

New York had already begun to turn on Spider-Man. The city that he had saved time and time again had grown to hate him, unable to forgive him for abandoning them entirely, for leaving them to wonder if their beloved hero was even still alive. And to come back like this? To come back a murderer?

“It’ll turn into a man-hunt.”

There was no other outcome for it, both of you knew that much. There was already an eerie sense of unrest that had settled amongst the city in Spider-Man’s absence; and if it was confirmed that their former symbol of hope had abandoned his own code of ethics? The world would turn to nothing but chaos.

It would be the dawn of a new age.

A dark age.

bonus teaser scene - peter parker dialogue from A Dark Age

#dark!peter parker #tasm peter parker imagine #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #spiderman imagine #dark!spiderman #yandere spiderman #yandere peter parker #mcu imagine #harry osborn imagine #tasm harry osborn #tasmedit #peter parker fic #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #spiderman fic #andrew!peter fluff #andrew!peter fan fiction #andrew!peter smut #peter parker smut #marvel mcu #marvel x reader #marvel

[literaila]

untrustworthy 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: 

"are you mad at me?"

"did you get me bologna sandwiches?"

warnings: angst, alludes to depression, lost of interest, pushing people away, this is a pining fic because they’re not actually together, angst, fluff at the end, peter sucks but he’s also great? 

a/n: i haven’t written anything in weeks and this is so terrible but take it or leave it. i am. 

*

if you've learned anything in the past year, it's that you couldn't trust peter parker. 

you couldn't trust him to finish his portion of your shared slideshow for your physics class. and you shouldn't have trusted him to tell you if he couldn't get it done before the due date--sparing you both from the wide-eyed, slightly over-amused gazes of classmates who thought peter's "the end" slide was purely a comedic stroke, and not just laziness, or a miserable attempt to pretend he hadn't cost you thirty percent of your grade. 

and even after, you couldn't trust him not to give you a look--his signature look--sending you plummeting towards forgiveness before he'd even gotten the chance to apologize. 

you couldn't trust peter parker to pick up a mutual friend's birthday cake or get himself home safely without cracking his glasses, or not to eat all of the cookies that may made for you on his way to your apartment. you wouldn't trust him to wash your dishes or sleep on your couch without burning the entire building down. 

it was a dangerous thing, you'd realized, about three months after you'd met him, to try and count on him. 

peter parker would borrow a pen from you, flicking his hair your way and smiling that charming smile, and then proceed to give it back to you at your thirty-year reunion. or never. 

you'd learned not to expect him to show up for anything on time, ask him to pick anything up for you, or let him do laundry in your apartment. 

peter parker was anything but dependable. and if you could give the past version of yourself any advice, it would be not to trust him. 

not to let that foolish hope exist before it was crumbled between strong hands like a grocery receipt, never to be seen again. 

you wouldn't let that faded, reliable version of peter exist. 

you couldn't trust peter parker to do anything or make any promise he would actually keep. 

you couldn't even trust him to stay away from you when you wanted space the most; like now. 

because as soon as you heard that knock on your door, a bitter part of you was scowling at the intrusion, cursing your friend for bothering to exist or always showing up when you didn't want him to. 

and you knew that just like every other thing peter did, he wouldn't take no for an answer. even if you didn't answer the door. even if you threw your phone down into the garbage disposal. 

you were pretty sure peter could pick a lock. and also slightly suspicious that he'd had a copy of your key made behind your back. 

so when peter walks into your living room, hair dripping from the rain, arms full of grocery bags, you aren't surprised. 

you barely even blink at him before returning your attention to your tv, where a couple was viciously debating the cost of crown molding. 

his presence is its own curse because you can feel every movement he makes, just like always. 

"hey," peter says, smiling evilly. he ignores your ignoring. doesn't even mind the fact that you haven't looked at him. "i brought you some stuff." 

he kicks his shoes off--into your living room, of course, mud sticking to your carpet--and heads to the kitchen. 

"just some basics," he continues, not bothering to listen to any reply, verbal or not. "bread, eggs, milk. i got you some disgusting orange jello and a couple of those pre-made sandwiches they make at the deli. they're a bit... flat, but they should be okay still." 

you turn the volume up. 

peter doesn't mind. "there's also some protein bars in there--chocolate--just in case you want something quick," he walks back into the room, holding a glass bottle. "and i saw this banana-flavored soda when i was walking out, for us to try and throw up together." 

he shakes the bottle around, smile on his idiotic face, not even bothering to think about the harsh reality of carbonation. 

"open that over the sink," you mumble to him, still not meeting his eyes. 

you curse your weak willpower for ruining your silent game. and peter, for knowing that he would win eventually. 

peter tilts his head, tsking at you. "not even a thank you for your very thoughtful, handsome--" he plops down next to you, moving your legs so that he can tickle your feet. "and genius best friend?" 

"thanks, peter." 

instead of looking over at the man who was definitely trying to get you to yell at him, you choose to watch the ceiling on the tv crumble over brand-new hardwood. 

you frown. 

peter runs his hand up your calf, goosebumps riding his wake. "are you mad at me?" 

"did you get me bologna sandwiches?" 

"no, turkey." 

"then no." 

peter removes his hand. "what's wrong with the bologna?" 

"they put rat poison in it." 

peter pokes your thigh. "and you've been letting me eat it? you know i love those sandwiches."

you turn even further on your side, wall going up between the two of you, forcing his hand off, mumbling, "wanted to test a theory." 

"what theory?" 

finally, your eyes meet his--stupid brown, caring, auburn, and hateful eyes. "if rat poison would kill you or not." 

peter scoffs.  

you let your lip quirk up, irritated at his perfect mouth and thoughtful grocery list, and warm hands climbing up your stomach, and then look away. back to the house infested with termites. if there's anything to hate, it's adoration. the ridiculous attachment you have to him, even now.

"are you calling me a vermin?" 

you roll your eyes. "well, you're not dead so..." 

and it was all normal. peter sitting this close and trying to mold himself into your skin, the puppy eyes he was trying to give you, and his devious smirk. his teasing and lack of common sense, his stupid jokes, and stupid thoughtfulness, ruining the silent treatment you'd meant to give him. the space you'd been forcing between the two of you.

it was all normal, but you can feel him lurking, waiting for a moment to say something. you can feel him staring at you. 

"what?" you say, sharp and rough, after thirty seconds of it being too much. of peter being too close and too quiet.

his presence is a burden on your heart. 

peter's hands began to massage your legs, forcing you to let him in closer than you want him to be. "what, what?" he repeats. 

your eyes meet his with defenses already prepared. "what are you doing here, peter?"

the words are weapons. one punch to the jaw and a knife shoved into his back. 

you're trying to get him off of you, get him out that door and back into the world where he belongs so that you could stay here and rot, just like you want to.

but peter's eyes stay soft, his hands are kind and his intent is obvious. he isn't trying to fight with you.

he blows out a breath. "what're you doing here?"

you both stare at each other for a moment and then you look away, shaking your head. "i live here." 

"you know that's not what i mean." 

"do i?" you ask, voice sarcastic and mean. and it would be fine--usually. you and peter are mean to each other for sport. 

but he wasn't being anything but easy. careful as he stretched your muscles out like he could tell that you hadn't used them in days. 

trust peter to break your only rule. 

it was silent again; only the sounds of commercials in the background, a woman swearing that aleve changed her life. 

peter clears his throat. "why haven't you been answering my calls?" 

"lost my phone." 

"and class?" 

"i've been sick." 

"you missed an exam," he pushes. "you're gonna have to make it up." 

"already emailed connaly." 

"good." peter swallows, and you can feel his pounding, his questions even when he's not asking them. 

you want to push him off of the couch. you want to push him off of you, leave bruises from the fall, and tell him to find someone who can be his friend. who can do this. 

you want to be understanding, and as careful as he is. you love him enough to not scream, even if you want to.

"peter, i really just want to be alone, so--" 

"when's the last time you ate?" 

you sigh, pulling away from him. 

but peter has a firm hold on your legs, and even if you tried, you couldn't kick him away. 

"when was the last time you showered?" 

"i've been sick, peter, it doesn't--" 

"left the house?" he prods. "or moved from the couch? when was the last time you looked in the mirror?" 

you sit up, looking at him without meeting his eyes. "you should go. i could still be contagious." the words are tense, your face is stone, unmoving, and unwilling to do any of this with him. 

peter moves closer to you, his hands lingering just inches away from your marble face. "what's going on?" he asks, so softly that you can barely feel it on your plastered skin.

his concern and care, his stupid face and stupid eyes and-- 

"i can't do this, peter." 

"you need to talk to me," he says, without even processing what you've said. "you need to tell me what's happening because it's been almost two weeks since i've seen you, and this..." he gestures around the room. 

a place that used to be your home. 

"what happened?" 

and if anyone could get it out of you--pull the secrets you have hidden in your chest, ignoring your screams of pain--it would be peter. he would be the person that you talked to. 

that is if you wanted to talk at all. 

if you wanted to move from his couch and look into his eyes like you had been for months before this. like he was more than a classmate, or friend who had stuck to you. like he was someone who you wanted to care about. 

someone with perfect lips and wonderful eyes and an addicting laugh. 

someone who you might want to tell more, share more. 

the person that you'd been a month ago would've told peter. even unsure if he could keep that secret or stay with you, you would've told him. trusted him that much. more than he deserved. 

but the person sitting on your couch staring into those same eyes doesn't want anything. 

to move or breathe or have to tell peter that you just don't care anymore. 

that whatever you have to tell him is gone, that your words and voice have been ripped from your chest, that this couch, this distance you've been trying to build is the only remedy to fix the hole that remains. 

but you don't want to see him. you don't want to tell him anything. you don't want to breathe his air and risk infecting him. 

"nothing, peter. i'm fine." 

"you look like you've spent the last month in the hospital." 

"well, you look like a goddamn swimsuit model, so i guess we're even." 

you're watching as his serious face shifts, and you can see it as he fights back a laugh, his eyes just barely flickering. 

and you wish that you didn't care. you wish so badly that it didn't matter. you look away, thinking to pretend that none of this exists. 

you've had enough nightmares like this lately. 

"hey," peter says, one fingertip turning your eyes back to his. and you know it's not a dream, because your imagination can never get those eyes just right. "i'm here to listen. whatever it is. we'll work it out. i just need you to talk to me."

"i told you, there's nothing--" 

"and you've got to stop lying to me like i can't tell." 

you scowl. 

peter's eyebrows lift, a fraction of affection appearing on his face. "c'mon, just tell me. i won't laugh." 

you look down, at his hand resting on your thigh, and the hole you've burned into the couch. 

you don't want to look at his eyes anymore. you're tired of trying to look away. and not talking to him. 

you sigh. "nothing, peter. just..." you blink, but it's not enough to push his regard off of you. to rid yourself of the toxins he's breathed into you. 

you were almost immune to them, just a few weeks ago. mithridatism only works if it's consistent. 

and his eyes are more dangerous when you haven't seen them. 

you freeze. "there's nothing," you repeat, defenses falling, hands going to push him away from your face. 

and peter knows what's going to happen before you do. "hey," he says, already soothing. "whatever it is..." 

and peter grabs you before you fall. he catches that first tear, and it's his forever. his arms fold around your shoulder, his strong hands keeping your head up. 

"there's nothing. it's all gone. everything i want, everything i--" 

his hands are tilting your face up to his but you can't look at him. you can't look into his perfect eyes and feel ashamed of yourself anymore. 

you're sick and tired of feeling sorry for yourself. 

"i can't feel anything, peter. i don't want to do anything but sit here and hope that eventually, this feeling goes away. that it all just..." you shake your head, feeling him invade you. 

and then you lean in and let peter hold you up. 

you hadn't even realized that you were crying. hadn't realized how far down you'd pushed the words until they were bubbling up. 

bile crawling up your throat. 

"i'm sorry," you whisper to him, just before he crushes you into a hug, your head buried into his neck. your tears staining his perfect skin. "i'm so sorry." 

peter shakes his head against you, holding you even closer. 

and you can't breathe with how tight he's holding you, but this sort of breathlessness is welcome. much better than the other kind. 

you laugh against him, feeling how sore your body is. how angry you are with yourself. 

"i've got you," peter whispers, into your hair, kissing your forehead. "we'll figure it out." 

you shake your head but say nothing. 

you finally breathe him in, desperate after denying yourself for so long. you don't have to worry about anything as long as peter is right there. 

"god," he says, after a few minutes pass. "i'm sorry i didn't come sooner. i thought..." 

thought you were okay, you can hear. thought that you needed space, that time was a perfect solution. 

"not your fault," you mumble into him. 

peter leans back, just so that you'll look up at him. "why didn't you tell me? you know i would've come," he says, "if you'd just called." 

"i didn't want--" you swallow, looking away. "i didn't want you to know. or see." 

peter scowls. "what did you think would happen? i would leave? or tell you to get over yourself?" 

"maybe."

"are you insane?" 

"maybe." 

peter doesn't even laugh. he makes you look at him again, not knowing how cruel those eyes of his are. "i would've stayed," he tells you, "no matter what. even if you told me that you murdered someone. or run over a squirrel with your bike. i would've been there. i'm going to be there." 

his jaw is tense and his eyes are so serious, but you sniffle, shaking your head. "even if i murdered a squirrel?" 

"i mean... it would be hard. but i'd do it." 

you laugh. 

he swallows, shaking his head. "you need to tell me what's going on, okay? instead of ghosting me for two weeks, acting like you died or something." 

"i answered a couple of your texts." 

peter glares at you. 

"okay. i'm sorry." 

he shakes his head again, almost smiling, if a little bit sad. "are you okay?" 

you fall back into him, suffocating yourself into his shoulder. you don't want to answer that, and hope that peter doesn't push. 

for once, he does what you want, wrapping his arm back around you, pulling you in closer. 

"okay," he says, and breathes with you. 

you sit with him for a few seconds, glad that he's there, and then you ask, "how'd you get in?" voice muffled by his shirt. 

"it was unlocked, you idiot." 

you frown, looking up at him. 

peter laughs. 

"no, it wasn't." 

his eyes return to normal, deviance stuck in his expression. "i used my key," he answers, innocently. 

trust peter to ruin the moment.

*

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf  @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon  @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl    invisibletrolleyson-jeremy  @sharkswaters  @rowniebow @anaislfbv @take-my-hand-time-boy @mileyc111 @starsval @ratsys

#peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter fic #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter angst #tasm!peter x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #the amazing spider-man #The Amazing Spider Man #spider-man #andrew garfield #Andrew!Spiderman #andrew!peter smut #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #andrew!peter fanfiction #tasm x reader #tasm x you #spider man #spider man x you #spider man x reader #spider man x y/n #marvel #marvel fanfic

[morwap]

could you do a peter parker smut where he sobs because reader has been edging him? thanks!

LMFAO IT POSTED UNFINISHED

let me finish this real quick

your palm circled over peters tip again before pumping him, moving your hand up and down his cock. your eyes glancing from your work to his face then back to your work occasionally, you knew this felt more intense since the whole spider situation long ago.

peters back arched off the mattress, so close, he was so close but he knew you wouldn’t let him cum. this was the forth time he had gotten close to cumming, hoping this was the time he’d finally get to release. you watched him tremble, knowing he was close and if you kept going hed cum.

letting go of his cock and he immediately let out a loud whine, his cock twitching and abdomen tensing as he tried to find your hand again. tears now coming to his eyes.

“please!” peter sobbed, the feeling of being so close now fading slowly.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker smut #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #andrew!peter smut #andrew!peter parker #the amazing spider man #the amazing spider-man smut

[know-its-for-the-better]

who else treat the opening of the tumblr app as a sacred event and clears a time slot for it’s consumption

#tasm!peter smut #andrew!peter parker x reader #peter parker #the amazing spider man #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #andrew!peter smut #tasm peter smut #peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 – 𝐓𝐚𝐬���! 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫

Summary: you and Peter finally have sex with each other. He's nothing but gentle with you

Genre: smut

Warning: gentle Peter, virgin reader , GENTLE AF, slight praise kink, fingering, eye contact idk

Pairing: tasm! Peter Parker x f! Reader

Author note: reader and Peter are in college. This could be for any Peter but personally I'm doing it Andrews Peter

Don't repost my content anywhere. It's a crime

© writing by iguessweallcrazyithinktho 2022

The TV played softly in your NYC apartment as the rain fell quietly outside. You were cuddled into your boyfriend Peters. He was over for the evening after finishing all his assignments and his many late night patrols. He hasn't been seeing you a lot lately due to that, so he decided to take a break from his spiderman things and spend one uninterrupted evening with you.

"you comfy love?" Peter said in his raspy voice. You lifted your head from his neck and looked at him. "Yeah very comfortable." You placed your head back in his neck and pulled the throw blanket back over your shoulder. Peter laughed, kissing the top of your head. He was so in love with you.

You were the first girl he's been with since Gwen passed away. He wasn't sure he was going to find anyone after Gwen, but you showed up. You were a sweet, smart, shy girl. You knew how to cheer him up and you knew how to clear his crazy mind. You took away a lot of his pain and filled a lot of gaps in his life he didn't know needed filling and he was so grateful for it.

You and Peter watched the movie in silence. As Peters eyes were glued to the TV you started kissing up his neck. It started off as innocent, but it didn't take long for it to get heated.

This was nothing new. Heavy making out and neck kissing was a usual, you and Peter never went further than that. Lately you've been wondering when you would. You both been dating for 4 months and it felt like it was needed.

"what you doing baby?" Peter asked you as he tore his eyes away from the screen. You lifted your head and looked at him. "Peter, I think I'm ready."

He looked confused as to what you were referring to then his eyes widen. "You wanna.."

You nodded, "I wanna have sex with you."

"are you sure? I don't wanna hurt you or anything." Peters voice got soft as he said that. You took his face in your hands making him look at you. "Peter you'll never hurt me." You looked into his soft brown eyes and smiled. You knew he was nervous. You were doing your best to cheer him up.

Peter sighed and stood up from the couch with you. "If you insist love."

Peter carried you to your bedroom. once in there he gently threw you on the bed. You squealed and looked at Peter. He laughed as he caged your body with his arms. His lips connected to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck deepening the kiss. As you kissed Peters hand trailed down your stomach to your shorts. He pushed past the waistband to under your panties.

"is this ok?" He asked pulling away from your lips. You nodded. "Yeah it's fine. Go ahead."

Peters rough finger began circling on your clit. Your mouth fell open as a moan escaped your throat. It felt nice to feel someone else other than you touching yourself.

Peter began kissing down your neck as he started rubbing you faster. Your breathing picked up and stomach tighten. "Mmh Peter." You moaned out. He pulled away from your neck to look at you. Watching you pull your lip in between your teeth as tried not to moan made him smirk.

His hand moved from your clit to your core. He began pumping two fingers into you at lightening speed.

Your moans became wilder as he moved in you. It was long before your orgasm washed over you. Your back arched off the bed and your toes curled as you came on Peters fingers.

"fuck Peter." You opened your eyes to see the boy smirking. You returned the smirk.

Peter took his hands from your pants. You both began removing your article of clothing until you both were fully nude.

You laid on the bed and Peter observed you. "You're so beautiful."

Your faced heated up at his words. Peter moved your legs apart and got in between them. You watched as he took his length that was about 6 inches and stroked it a few times before he placed it near your entrance. He gathered your wetness, running the tip from your core to your clit making your moan softly.

"you ready?" You nodded looking into those soft brown eyes. "Ok if it hurts tell me to stop and I will ok love?" You nodded. "Use your words please." Your face heated up at his soft demand. "ok Peter."

Peter began by pushing into you slowly. You breathed through the pain as he went much deeper.

"can I move now?" Peter asked you. "Yes, please do."

Peter began moving in you slowly. Once he noticed you adjusting to him in you he went much faster.

You had a strong grip on Peters forearm and the sheets as he moved in you. Your loud moans were swallowed up by Peter as he kissed you. You were grateful because you were sure your neighbors would be able to hear how loud you were.

Peter Pulled away from your lips and grunted. He looked down in between you watching as he disappeared into you. "You're so wet." He commented and looked at you.

You both held eye contact for a while. You both starred into each other souls feeling connected to one another in multiple ways. It was long before you came. Before peter could cum he pulled out and emptied himself out of your stomach.

You felt the bed get lighter as Peter got up and walked to the bathroom. A few seconds went by before he returned with a towel to wipe the mess off your stomach. When he returned he laid down beside you on the bed.

"you ok?"

You smiled and looked at him. "Yeah, I'm perfect. Thank you for making my first time Wonderful."

Peters lips formed into a smile. "Of course love."

#andrew garfield #peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #andrew!peter smut #Peter Parker x reader #tasm! peter parker smut