#andrew garfield!peter parker | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jin0 · 2 years

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LOVESICK TEACHER [TASM!Peter Parker]

Summary : Peter lost you over ten years ago. Well, let's thank your niece, his favorite student, because here you are today, presenting your job to his class.

Pairing : Elementary teacher!Peter Parker X Reader

Warnings : 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, smut, fluff, angst, peter being stupid (when do i ever write him smart...), soulmate trope kinda, both are a little toxic lets be real, gwen in the middle but she's best girl so get off her dick and be nice, i kinda followed andrew and emma's story with that one too, creampie, pet names (pumpkin, sweetheart, baby), slight mentions of manhandling, use of webs, kinda exhibition because they do intimate stuff in the street, overstimulation, kinda subby peter, kinda dom reader, lots of cum too, slight titty worship, slight pussy job, lots of kisses and soft touches.

A/N : another one for you birdie ✨ i kinda LOVED writing that one, missed writing for this idiot 🙈

Peter Parker could never really qualify as an idiot, but in that moment, he had never felt more stupid in his life.

It all matched perfectly and maybe it was the delusion that pushed him to ignore the signs but fuck, they were screaming at him now and he couldn’t just act like they weren’t there, like you weren’t there. It had been an entire decade of longing and confusion, and now, you were here, in front of him. Him and his entire class of little kids.

“Hi, I’m here with Mimi and I’m going to present my job as a lawyer.” You said, a tender smile on your face.

All the students cheered for you, some throwing looks at ‘Mimi', the little girl you were here for. Peter couldn’t hear any of the sounds around him, completely deaf to anything that wasn’t your voice. It echoed around him, sounding so distant yet close, as if coming out of his own head. It was a familiar feeling, but it never was this vivid before, not even in his wildest dreams or memory. He had dreamt of hearing your voice again, not in his head or memories this time. It had become so recurrent that the default voice for his memories or conscience was yours, even after all these years of not seeing each other.

You started presenting yourself and what you did on the daily to the weirdly attentive children. The teacher knew Mimi probably had something to do with it, the little girl so eerily similar to you. Now that he thought about it, he had been ignoring all the tells that slammed in his face. From her family name to her personality, she was like you, in so many ways it made him dizzy. She was like a tiny copy of you, a copy that seemed to look like you and you only, no one else.

He had been staring at your face with this stunned and pained look, as if seeing you was physically painful to the man, as if the vision of you was stabbing him repeatedly. A part of him knew you weren’t the one holding the knife in this situation, he was. He’d been holding it for a decade, waiting for the moment to hurt himself further, hurting himself until he truly felt the pain. He just didn’t expect to feel the pain in question in the middle of his class, with literal children watching.

The positive element here was that the kids seemed to be very interested in your job, this was definitely due to your way of explaining it. You knew how to make a topic fun for kids, you always did. From your facial expressions to your words, all of it was fun, you were the fun one. Even back in , you had been the one to always know where and when fun things would happen.

Peter never understood how you two ended up mixing together, when your crowds seemed to be so different.

Ah… Right… He knew how. It was stupid too.

You had figured out his secret identity when he jumped into your apartment thinking to was his. You helped him fix his wounds and from then on, helped in managing life and his nightly activities.

Until the hurricane came. Hurricane Gwen Stacy.

“Mr. Parker ?”

The man’s entire body jolted at the sudden voice and slight tug of his pants. Looking down, he found little Mimi smiling up at him with a proud smile on her face. That fucking smile, even that was the same. A slight hint of mischief mixed with all the love and innocence in the world. No, not innocence, hope. The smile he recognized it from you, a smile that you always had whenever he felt like giving up on the spider part of him. You had been his little ray of hope and one of his student was carrying the mantle.

He crouched to reach her level, smiling tenderly at her despite the little knot forming in the pit of his stomach at the idea of confronting the little girl, a child you had with someone else.

Like she always did, her little hands reached for his face to hold it still, she didn’t like it much whenever she was talking and the person wasn’t looking at her. Just like you. Her pupils were dilated in excitement and he could hear her heartbeat thumping inside her little chest.

“Mr. Parker, she’s finished, you gotta meet her now ! She’s real fun, just like me !” Declared the little girl, practically dragging her teach face first towards the source of her pride.

The man chuckled, standing up and handing the little girl his hand to let himself be guided towards you. Each step he took made him feel both heavier and lighter. The feeling of seeing you again brought him to cloud nine but the anxiety of your reaction buried him under the weight of the years that separated you both.

“Titi look ! It’s him ! Mr. Parker !” Presented Mimi, jumping into your arms to be carried, which you did.

“I know love, he’s right there, I can see him.” You smiled, kissing her forehead and making funny faces at her.

“I know ! But your eyes are bad, so I was making sure !” She responded honestly, looking at you as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

You laughed to yourself and Peter tried not to laugh and collapse to the floor at the same time. More than her name, face and mannerism, she also had your sarcasm. The resemblance was undeniable now, it was too late to run away or act blind. Two versions of you were cornering him, one, adorable as a button and the other, as beautiful as and mesmerizing as an angel fallen from the sky.

Her hands extended towards him, she was taking a step to make this a little less awkward, he knew it, that was what you always did.

“Hi, I’m Mimi’s aunt, nice to meet you.” You said, in your steadiest voice.

A sudden weight lifted off of Peter’s shoulders at your words. Her aunt. Not her mother, but the her aunt. He felt such relief in that moment, he could’ve jumped in joy, but refrained from rejoicing too fast, because you were acting like you didn’t know him, and that one hurt like hell. Even more than the possibility of you having a child with someone else.

Extending his hand to hold yours, he got lost in the feeling of your warm skin, it felt good, familiar, like home. His thumb caressed your skin as subtlety as he could but the tingling sensation spreading through him at the contact made it impossible to detach himself from you. He wanted more, he wanted to hug you tight, so tight that your only solution would be to live in his skin. He was going mental, that was evident, but fuck, he had missed you, all of you.

“Mr. Parker ?”

This time, it was your voice that pulled him out of his thoughts. Your head was tilted to the side with a slight grin, the kind that said ‘I don’t mind, take your time’. She was inviting him to take his time and reminisce. Why ? Why was she allowing him this much ? She just made it more painful to let go.

“Sorry…” He muttered, pulling his arm back slowly. Your touch burnt his skin softly, leaving behind nothing but longing and nostalgia. “So, Mimi’s Aunt right ?”

“Yes.” You smiled tenderly, looking down on the little girl fussing to get down. You put her down, letting her run off to her friends. “Her parents had to go abroad for work so I’m subbing for them. The lil’ pumpkin doesn’t seem too bothered by it so we’re having a good time together. But don’t worry, they’ll be back in a few hours, you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

The pang in his chest was back. You’d be gone soon, disappearing out into the world again and reminding him how much he missed you. The idea of loosing you again was unbearable, his entire body screaming for him to move and do something. He needed to take a step towards you, one that would either give him closure or bring you back in his life.

"You're gone so soon ? Poor Mimi, I bet she's wasn't the happiest about the news."

"She doesn't know and please don't tell her, she'll chase me with a broom. She might be small but she manages to hold it perfectly."

"Don't worry about it. I see she enjoys your company, she talks about you every day. You're like her own Spiderman."

"How ironic..." He heard you mutter under your breath.

The deep parts of him he had tried to hide for years after you were gone just couldn’t be kept hidden anymore, not when you were right there and soon you wouldn’t be. So Peter did what his mind told him, he took a step towards you.

“Can we talk ?”

The question sounded so desperate, it was as if his life depended on whatever discussion he had in mind. That desperation to discuss things, to put words over whatever you were feeling before it was too late, you knew it better than anyone. You’d gone through it first, and now it was his turn.

You could be petty, god you wanted to. You wanted to make him feel the same kind of anger and sadness knowing him had you go through. You wanted him to be as desperate as you were to talk and grab your chance before it slipped out. You wanted him to have that chance and you wanted to be the one to rip it out of his hands, leaving him with nothing. But you couldn’t .

You could’ve stood your ground and said no, getting your own personal revenge on him. But what was the point ? It wouldn’t make you feel good and it was useless. You’d been through it and managed to sort your shit out. You walked out of that cave and saw the ‘light’. Now you were fine, you didn’t need anymore revenge or closure. And if he needed it, then you didn’t mind giving it to him. Because no matter how much he hurt you, no matter how much pain he had you go through, he was still your Peter. The clumsy idiot who could save an entire building but would lose his mind if his favorite scientist looked at him.

“Yes Pete. We can talk.” Your smile was so tender, so sweet, he wanted to drop to his knees and let himself be buried by the shame he felt. You took a step towards him, entering his personal space and letting your scent drown him in. “I’ll be waiting for you after class, just let me drop Mimi off first.”

He couldn’t speak, could barely move, but found the strength to nod, his eyes tightly shut. He had never considered the impact of your absence on his mind and body. There was something about your presence that was addictive, soothing and just made everything feel like home. From your touch to your scent, you brought out the best of him, pulled him out of his shell gently and guided him through the fucked up world he had to deal with.

Without you or anything to distract him from thinking about your absence, he was back to square one. Angry, cold, distant, absent. Once the spring had passed, he was back to his winter, back to reality, the reality that he had list you without even noticing and for a while. You had disappeared out of his life and he couldn’t avoid the withdrawal by distracting himself anymore, not when his place of refuge had left with you.

What a shitty idea to share your interest with your best friend. Now he was stuck desperately trying to find comfort in the things that he had enjoyed before you but couldn’t anymore. How could he when all of these things, he had shared with you and could only link to you now ? You left and took everything that he owned and was with you.

The rest if the day felt like the longest of his life, lasting hours and hours before he could finally say goodbye to his students.

He was anxious, trembling uncontrollably and biting his lip in anticipation. The knot in his stomach just kept growing, taking up more space and making his entire body dependent on tiny bits of positive affirmations to reassure himself.

“Mr. Parker ?”

He jumped for the hundredth time today, looking down towards the little girl who had started this trainwreck of a day.

“Yes Mimi ? Do you need something ?” He asked tenderly, or at least, as much as he could.

The little girl shook her head, signaling for him to get to her level. He smiled honestly, this little truly was like you. He loved her attitude, confidence and certainty in her words all cramped up in a pocket size human.

“Are you in love for my Titi ?”

If he had anything in his mouth, he would’ve chocked on the spot, but instead he choked on air. Coughing loudly and fanning his cherry colored face, he looked at the child in false confusion.

“W-Why would you ask that pumpkin ?”

“Well, you look at her like daddy looks at mommy. And also, you look like Dorothy’s shoes, all red and shiny. Are you okay ?”

Dorothy, from the Wizard of Oz. That reference he hadn’t expected to hear it again. Not since highschool, when you used to make fun of him by calling him a Dorothy ‘s shoes colored weirdo. He had a tendency to blush at everything and she would make fun of him for it. At the time, he swore up and down that he hated it, but fuck. He needed her to call him that again, like she used to. He wanted her to make fun of him again.

He chuckled, caressing the child’s cheeks and pinching them, make her giggle and squirm in fake disapproval. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and he lifted her up, enjoying her loud squeals of happiness. He wasn't going to lie, she was his favorite student and she knew it.

"Mimi, i can't carry you everywhere you know ?" He chuckled, arranging her hair.

"Yeah you can ! My Titi does it, even at her work when she's very busy !"

"I'm not her thought and i'll make other students sad if i only carry you."

"It's okay, I'm fine with that." She smiled, making him laugh out loud. Yeah, she was exactly like you.

Catching his breath, he ran a hand through his hand before looking down at the curious little girl.

"I’m okay pumpkin, just a little warm. Now, about your aunt-“

“What about me ?”

Peter was very close to jumping out of his own skin when your voice appeared behind him. But the true surprise was your appearance. When he saw you, he suddenly felt like a highschooler again. After ten years of not knowing where you were, you still looked and dressed the same. It could be felt that morning but could be seen in that moment.

You always looked so different when you dressed fancy or professional, he was always left speechless, but nothing could beat your usual look, the one that maintained the memory of you as a teenager, kept you as you. The you that he knew the best and that knew him when he was still worth it, or so he said.

You and your little dress felt like a breeze of fresh air, blowing through his classroom with your natural glow. You were like the wind during one of these very hot summer nights, he had prayed for you to come and while in the back of his head he lost the hope of seeing you, when you eventually showed, he just couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Titi in a dress ! Titi’s wearing a dress ! I can even see your knees Titi!” Squealed the little girl, pointing at her aunt’s exposed knees.

She twirled around her as soon as Peter let her down and jumped in joy when you did the same, showing how flowy your dress was.

Peter was lucky that you were too busy with your niece to look at him because he couldn’t handle what was going on in front of him. Maybe he was stupid or maybe he was easy, he didn’t know and quite frankly didn’t care. There was something about seeing you in a dress that just made his inside melt. But the main issue wasn’t there, he knew this dress because he had bought it for you. It was a birthday present, the last birthday you both celebrated together, like your tradition stated, before you both lost each other.

“You’re zoning out again Mr. Parker. And you’re staring too.”

He tried to pull himself together and get back to the real world, but when his eyes crossed yours, he just couldn’t focus on anything but you. He’d equate it to nostalgia and the fact that he was seeing you again for the first time in ten years, but there was more, he knew it and clearly couldn’t hide it anymore, he had for ten years plus.

“Titi, he was all red, maybe he’s sick !” Exclaimed the child holding onto the hem of your dress

“You think ? That’s not good. We can’t let your favorite teacher be sick, can we Mimi ?” You crouched down to look at her in the eyes, trying not to laugh.

“No no no ! Sick people have to get better! With sleep and tea, and lots of honey too! To make it taste all sweet !” She responded, smiling wide while trying to remember all the technics her mother had taught her to get better.

You knew Peter, and the Spider hero was still active. He wasn’t back into his normal human body meaning he still healed very fast and simply couldn’t get sick. You knew all of this because he told you himself and even allowed you to read his father’s journal explaining the changes in his body. And if everything had stayed the same in ten years, which seemed to be the case from what you saw in the news, he still couldn’t. He probably used his sick days to rest or go out.

Nonetheless, Peter couldn’t get sick, you both knew this fact. A part of you, the part you tried to bury after high school, was hopeful, dreaming that the red covering his cheeks was due to you and not some super disease who had eventually managed to get him. You wished he’d blush because he saw you in the dress he bought you and you promised to only wear when time would be right. It wasn’t a particularly fancy dress, more of a simple milkmaid dress, but it was yours because he had gifted it to you and you wanted to honor it.

The dress was important and so was his opinion of you. Maybe that was the reason why it was so easy for your heart to break because of him. His opinion was too important and you understood exactly how much when his eyes started looking at Gwen Stacy as if she was the only one in the world to ever breath.

You weren’t replaced, your existence was simply erased when she appeared in his life.

Shaking your head suddenly, you ignored all the unwanted thoughts dancing around in your head and you turned towards your niece, who luckily, was still busy counting the healing methods on her hands. Grabbing her hand, you smiled wide.

“Hey, pumpkin, I’ve got to take you home, your parents are going to be home soon and we gotta surprise them okay ?”

“Okay ! Are we making them a surprise cake ? I wanna make a surprise cake Titi !”

“I already made it baby, but we can make something else later, okay ? But we should leave, Mister Parker has to go home to get better.” You said, reminding the little girl of her teacher’s fever.

She looked to him before looking up at you and nodding in agreement. Peter stayed quiet through the whole discussion, happy to be able to witness you both together, enjoying the dynamic between you both. He tried to keep in his smile but it was difficult to do so, past high school and college fantasies surfacing all over again and flooding his mind quickly. He pushed them to the side just enough to be able to wave at the both of you as you walked away from him.

When you came back to the school later, after dropping Mimi off and dodging your sister’s questions about you wearing your ‘special dress’, you found Peter sitting by the entryway to the school, hos skateboard in hand. Some things never changed.

When he noticed you, you saw this glint in his eyes, the one he had whenever he would discover something new for his suit or whenever he’d see her. It was easy to recognize because he used to have it whenever you would appear somewhere. You wanted to slap your own thoughts, you hated every single one of them for making you feel this way. You had spent so long learning how to be happy for Peter and you were, but your heart had other plans. The moment you saw him, you started doubted yourself and whether or not you hat truly moved on. Words were easy to say when the main focus of said words was nowhere to be found.

"So... elementary teacher huh ?"

He stayed silent for a few seconds before looking down.

"You told me i was good with kids." He took a pause a'd looked up. "Lawyer ?"

"You told me I was great at arguing." You chuckled. "Mimi likes you."

He wanted to smile at the mention of the little girl but couldn't.

"Yeah, i like the little pumpkin too."

"You call her like you used to call me."

"Yup. She reminded me of you, i just never made the connection. Did you know i was her teacher ?"

You shook your head as a response.

"No... I wanted to think it was you but i thought that would be too far fetched."

Silence took over again a'd you were back to square one, him staring and you deep in your thoughts. It felt good to be seen again by him. You wished you could say you didn’t need it but a part of you was still heavily dependent on him, and that made you hate him a little bit every passing second. You were better than that, stronger too, so much stronger. But you felt this unhealthy need to be desired by him, to be craved, and you wouldn’t be okay with this kinds of emotions if he wasn’t the one responsible for them.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed him walking up to you. He was hesitant, waiting for you to push him away, which he feels would’ve been deserved. Instead, you stayed still, not welcoming him, staring into him and digging holes into his soul. It was painful, humiliating too, you weren’t hiding like he was, but you weren’t open to him either. It was a dangerous combination, the kind that made him want to drop to his knees and apologizing straight away.

When his fingers brushed your forearms, caressing your skin slowly and as tenderly as he could, his own fingertips started to feel tingly, electric. A sensation of fulfillment, like his body was being charged with something unknown. His touch, initially as delicate as a feather, pushed into your skin, desperately trying to pull out more of that electricity. His hands ran up your exposed arms and held onto you tighter. He couldn’t let you go, not when this was what you made him feel, even after ten years apart.

“Pumpkin… Look at me, please…” His voice sounded higher and more desperate than you had ever heard coming from him.

You were still half out of it but you could feel it too, the electricity. Now, while his seemed to burn through you, the one coming from you was freezing. Your entire body burning cold under his touch. Was it your body’s way of rejecting him ? Telling him that you didn’t forgive him ? That you were pissed ? That had to be the biggest joke of the day considering the fact that in order to forgive, you had to consider that you had been wronged and at no moment had you ever felt like Peter had wronged. Or did you ? You couldn’t ignore the tiny parts of your brain and heart which seemed to get along when it came to this, agreeing that you got to be as petty as you want towards him.

You wanted to pull away and he felt it, tightening his arms around your biceps and pulling you to his chest. Had he been breathing this loud this whole time ? You could hear him from so close, inhaling and exhaling louder and louder.

“Peter…”

“No. Please… No…” He knew from you slightly pleading and saddened tone, that you were going to ask him to let you go. He couldn’t.

“I came here to talk with you Peter.” You sighed, letting him pull you even closer.

“I know. Fuck…” His finger detached themselves from you, one by one. It felt slow but was quicker than what you thought.

He looked at you, pleading with his eyes, begging for an opening, explanations, anything. He wasn’t just desperate, he needed this. He was being selfish, and childish, but he couldn’t just ignore it. After a decade of refraining it all, he couldn’t wait a second longer.

You watched him drop his bag and run his hands over his face. You stayed quite while he attempted to conceal the scream he let out. He backed up, pacing in front of the door, with a distressed look on his face.

“Peter…” You tried, stopped by him suddenly turning to face you.

“Ten years. Ten fucking years without you.” He declared, looking at you with what resembled anger. “Do you know how fucking dead inside your absence made me feel ? How each day was killing me a little more ?”

You wished you could’ve said something inspiration or dramatic, like in the movies. Instead, you chuckled, turning away from him. You could feel the anger rising and this time, it wasn’t just little parts of you.

“My absence was killing you huh Peter ? But when I was there it literally felt like I wasn’t ?”

“So you just fucking leave ? You leave me behind like I don’t matter ?” He responded, his voice raising in the heat of the moment.

“So just like you did !” You screamed, your voice cutting through the air and resonating in his head.

It was the first time he’d ever truly seen you scream in anger because of him. There was something murderous in the way you were looking at him right now, like he had never made you feel anything positive, anything good. You were looking at him like an enemy and it was killing him. Because he knew, he had messed up your friendship and anything more that could’ve happened but he couldn’t help being made at you for not giving him a proper chance. If not for him or you, for the two kids who used to joke about how they’d get married after college.

You wanted things to be civil, you wanted this to be a discussion, but it was so hard to tame the younger you who had spent years screaming inside, begging for him to feel just as bad as you did. You covered your face, breathing in and out, trying to regain your composure. You could feel him get closer to you and while you wanted to push him away this time, you couldn’t . You were too tired for this. One singular scream had exhausted you, but it wasn’t enough.

“I wish I could hate you Peter for making me feel like shit for an entire decade, even when you weren’t even there.” You began, smiling sadly while he tried not to cry. “Do you know how it feels to see your best friend fall in love for someone else ? For a girl as awesome as Gwen Stacy ? I didn’t , but I learned. Because that’s how it went. And I wished that it wouldn’t change anything between us, but when you love Peter, you love with everything you have. I had to learn that I got lucky when you showed me how much I mattered to you because you loved me with every good feeling you had in you. And I couldn’t be happier knowing that Gwen got to feel this. I just wish I would’ve known that it meant you wouldn’t have anymore space for me. That’s the story Peter. That’s us.”

If the world was caving under his feet, he probably wouldn’t feel it. While you felt a weight being lifted off of your shoulders, he just felt crushed under the guilt. That was the power you had on him, the kind he tried to forget or ignore. He was a fucking moron, and had been for years. Ignoring the spider, his senses and basic logic, he could feel how much pain you felt, had to go through because of him. Whatever you felt, he could feel it, good or bad. And he had been able to for years. It was a you and him thing, freaky in the eyes of others but normal for you both.

Walking towards you, his hands slowly moved towards your face, delicately holding onto it, caressing your flexed jaw muscles and trying to unclench it for you. He couldn’t stand seeing you, his bubble of light and happiness so angry and hurt, he just couldn’t. His hands were cold suddenly and your face warm, like the sun. He could feel the humidity under his skin, he made you cry. He lifted your face to look at him and saw it. Your beautiful eyes, reddened by tears.

“No, no, no, pumpkin please… Don’t cry… Please, I’m begging you…” He pleaded, trying to keep his voice calm despite wanting to scream at the top of his lungs. “I’m sorry… Please, love… I’m sorry sweetheart… Please don’t cry, you… You can’t… You have to smile and be happy, the happiest in the world…”

You scoffed, pushing him away with a faint smile. You wiped your face and sniffed loudly before turning towards him with the same forced smile he hated.

“I don’t want your apology Peter… God, I’m happy for you. You deserve to be with someone like Gwen, she’s incredible.”

“Stop. Don’t say that. I don’t want you to be happy for me. I want you to hate me.” He sighed, looking away.

“Would that be easier for you ?” You asked, genuinely trying to make it easier for him.

“Fuck, can you stop thinking about me !? It has to be easier for you ! You matter, I don’t !” He exclaimed, trying to pull you out of this state you were in. “I want you to hate me because that’s what would be right ! I broke your heart and you wish me the best with a girl I can’t look at without remember just how impossible it is for me to love her as much as I love you !”

In that moment, you felt the air in your lungs, disappear, sucked out by his words. You wanted to believe, you and all the versions you went through before now. The past yous who tried so hard to believe that they’d be okay not hearing about him or seeing him happy with another. They were all jumping in joy, all but one, the you from now. That you had seen all the delusion and false hope and she couldn’t let herself be fooled.

“Peter…” You started, but were stopped by his eyes, warning you silently, that if you spoke a single word, he’d loose it.

He marched towards you, pulled you by the arm to have his chest against yours. He could feel your heartbeat and just how much you were shaking, not in fear but anxiety. You were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

His palm was rough on your skin, but so warm, it felt like the rays of sun that would hit as soon as you’d wake up. They burnt your eyes a little but they felt good after a little. That was Peter, burning like the Sun. You could feel how hard he was trying to give you time, to wait for you to recognize his touch and all the love that was flowing through it, but you couldn’t, not when so much time had passed.

“Don’t even fucking try and stop me from saying whatever it is that I want to say. It’s been ten years without you, and definitely more years of refrained feelings. You always told me to live a life with no regrets and I tried but that’s fucking hard when the biggest regret in my life is letting you go and every passing day is a reminder of that. Even my favorite student turned out to be a punishment for letting you go. All of you lost over temporary happiness.”

“You don’t mean that Peter.” You scoffed, taking his hands off of your face and walking away. His eyes followed your every step, desperately trying to keep up. He recused to lose sight of you again.

"Why is it so hard to believe that i needed you ?! That i couldn't go one without you ?!"

“Because when I was there, Peter, you made it clear that you couldn’t love the both of us. It was either your best friend or your girlfriend and I know you. You couldn’t make that decision and act on it without feeling like shit, so I did it for you, because that’s what a best friend does. I did what would be right for the three of us. Every second we’d spend together after you met her was about Gwen. How pretty she was, how smart she was, how brave she was. Even helping you with your Spiderman activities had become a thing for the both of us. It doesn’t take a genius to get the memo Peter.”

“And from that… From that you thought you had to leave ?”

“I didn’t just leave Peter. You made me feel like an intruder, and I love you Buddy, but I’m not going to stick myself into an uncomfortable situation just because you don’t want to lose me or whatever. Even for you, I refuse to force myself into a painful situation to make you happy, you might be worth it, but whichever part of myself I would’ve lost wouldn’t be.”

Every word you said felt a little more painful but necessary to Peter. He needed to hear this, all of it. He wished things would be different, these words would be said in any other context, but it had to happen that way. He hadn’t been the only one hurting for all this time, you’d been hurting too and for far longer. He hated the idea of bringing you pain and now that things started to clear, he knew that if he had been given the opportunity to choose, he would’ve chosen to protect you too.

“I’m sorry pumpkin… So, so, so sorry… I wish I could do or say something to make myself look better but fuck… I failed on all accounts. As your best friend and everything else. You did what I never would’ve had the balls to do and it hurts… Because I let you believe that I would’ve chosen her over you when it would always be you… Even in my wildest dreams or without me getting to choose, it’s you. And I’m sorry it took me you being gone for noticing. I’m sorry…” He declared, letting out all the shit he wished he would’ve said when he started to realize.

You walked back in front of the entry doors, sitting down and crossing your legs. The elementary teacher let out a heavy sigh before meeting you on the floor. It felt just like old times, having you both seating on the floor next to each other, doing nothing much but being there for the other. It was as silent as it used to be, adding the faint wall you had built between you both. He tried to let it be, but Peter Parker just couldn’t do that, not even ten years after.

He laid his head on your lap, nuzzling against your skin and hiding his face into the fabric of your dress. You stayed still, watching him fully lay on the pavement and turn to face your stomach. Your eyes crossed his, the man casting you a quick glance and a grin before pushing his nose into your belly. You didn’t budge, welcomed him despite the deep desire to reject him. Desire was the funniest word of that whole sentence, funny considering the fact that it was a lie.

“I didn’t want you to leave. I’d never want you gone, pumpkin. And I’ll spend the rest of this lifetime working for your forgiveness. Even if it means that you forgive a grave.”

Your hand ran through his hair and you smiled honestly, for the first time since you had joined him for this little discussion you were having. You could feel his smile again your stomach but you could also feel the guilt grow and spread.

“You’re not being fair Peter.” You exhaled, taking your hand off his face and forcing him to look at you. “Not to me, yourself or Gwen, the awesome woman who loves you with every piece of her.”

Groaning against your body, he sat up, looking into your eyes with a playful grin.

“Gwen hasn’t been in love with me for nine years pumpkin. And I haven’t for a good decade.” He declared, the small smile on his face growing when he saw your confused expression. He was a simple man, and there was something absolutely adorable about your face when you were confused. The scrunch of your nose and the frown that made it look like he had said the stupidest thing ever was a hilarious combo he missed over the years.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about Peter ?” You asked, sounding a little angrier than you wanted. You weren’t going to get your hopes up but said hopes seemed to fly without the help of a pilot.

He chuckled, smile growing even wider. His hands took hold of your wrists, pulling you to his chest, between his parted legs. It was unnecessary to the story but he wanted to hold you, and by the time you weren’t going to push him away, he wasn’t going to stop himself. He wrapped his arms around your waist after placing yours on his shoulders before explaining himself.

“Gwen left for London after we graduated high school. We tried long distance but it just reminded me that you weren’t there either. We broke up, stayed good friends. I’m her son’s god father, she’s married now. Even has her own lab and stuff.”

Your expression got even worse and when you heard him try and keep in a laugh you couldn’t stop the punch to his biceps. It hurt a little but fuck that.

“Don’t laugh, you little shit ! What are you talking about ?!” You exclaimed, glaring at him.

“It’s as simple as it sounds pumpkin.” He said cradling your cheek tenderly. If you weren’t busy connecting the dots, you’d be swooning right now. “We broke up when she forced me to confront the fact that while she wasn’t there I wasn’t missing her as much as we both hoped I would. Even before that I was missing something else though, you. Hell, I was craving you, pumpkin. I needed you so much. And I still do.”

His words sounded so distant, echoing in your head. In a few seconds, your entire personality, the one you’d built to be Peter Parker proof was shot down and destroyed completely. You tried to keep your composure and stand your ground but it was useless. Maybe it was the fact that he was touching you, or the way he was looking at you, like you were the very reason why he kept breathing. You wanted to fold, all of you wanted that. But what you wanted didn’t matter, and after a decade of building yourself into a concrete wall, you weren’t going to fold so easily.

“Fuck you Peter.” You spat, looking at him with doubt before you stood up.

You couldn’t take a single step before being pulled backwards. Checking your dress and him, you noticed the long white web coming out of his webshooters and attaching itself to you. You squealed loudly as you dropped back onto his lap and this time, were kept between his arms. He wasn’t going to let you run off again, not when you could disappear for another decade. You tried to escape him by trashing around but he was quick to grab your wrists and force you to stay still by giving you this classic look that he would rarely use but would when it was necessary. You called it “The Brooding Spider Eyes”.

“Stop fighting me and try to listen for a second.” He ordered in a low voice that sent shivers all through your body. The more you’d look into his eyes, the fuzzier you’d get inside, that was the effect Peter Parker had on you, the deadly kind. You wanted to run, it was so much easier to run from him and to hide. After all this time, you couldn’t avoid it anymore, all that growth and improvement you tried to protect it wasn’t actual improvement, just you being able to forget him because he wasn’t there to remind you.

You were still the young girl who had begged her parents not to go to her own graduation, crying, because she was terrified of seeing him. They couldn’t understand and neither could you, all you knew was that seeing him with her was killing you. They had forced you to go but drove you home straight after, before he could even reach you. Then started the Great Cleaning of your entire existence on social medias and through your friends. You blocked a big majority of your high school except a very small group, changed your passwords because he had them all, deleted your pictures together, your socials and so on.

You had erased yourself to not be forced to confront the fact that you’d been in love with your best friend.

“Why didn’t you tell me, pumpkin ?” He muttered, his eyes fixated on your lips.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and that made you want to run even more, because that meant he knew and that also meant you were risking rejection. You tried to look away but he quickly took hold of your jaw and made you face him.

“Stop trying to look away, look at me and answer. Why didn’t you confess ?”

“Why would I ?” You responded softly, defeated. “You had a girlfriend, Peter. And you talked about her as if she was the brightest star in the universe. You told me about how great she was before you even told her you liked her, that was enough for me to understand that I wouldn’t stand a chance against that kind of love. And I know you would’ve tried to figure out the best solution to accommodate everyone, which would end up with you unhappy so I took the decision on my own.”

When your explanation finished, you tried to hide within yourself, lowering your head and turning it away from his. He kept your wrists tightly held while he searched your eyes softly, he needed to look into your beautiful eyes and see for himself, see the pain you’d been hiding from him for years. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, he knew that, but he was your best friend, you were his too. Hell, you were his everything, he should’ve known, and either you were the greatest pretender known to man or he just didn’t pay attention to you well enough, and he refused to believe that, because all Peter ever did was pay attention to you.

Blinded by your existence and borderline desperate to feel you at all times, he needed to observe you to be happy during the day, to see you well and smiling, otherwise he’d ruin whatever stood in your way, and that’s was what he thought was normal. Yeah, he clearly wasn’t the smartest and it took him years, but he knew as soon as you were gone that you weren’t just his best friend.

He closed his eyes and slid a hand behind your neck, delicately holding you still. The other reached up to your cheek, cradling it tenderly while his nose rubbed against yours. Never in his life had he wanted to see into your eyes more. The air in his lungs was gone, replaced by this unhealthy need to have you look at him. The years of ignorance started to pile up and he just couldn’t help the feeling in his chest. The kind of feeling that screamed to be explored, let out and exposed to the world.

“Pumpkin, please…” He pleaded, kissing your cheek softly.

You were moving out of his way but your body needed him to kiss you more, you wanted him to love you like this, just a little more.

“Stop…” You muttered, feeling his breath on your neck.

“I can’t… Don’t ask me to stop, please…” He said, rubbing his nose against your jaw.

There was something so intimate about the way his was searching for you, desperately waiting to be allowed in your space again, not just o’ the outside but on the inside. After ten years, you still brought him down on his knees, acting like a touch starved infant.

When you lifted your head, trying to save your own pride and avoid his lips, he did the same, forcing you both to face the other. He let out an exasperated breath, his eyes closed and his expression showing the inside pain he tried to hide. Both your forehead held against the other, you closed your eyes softly, turning away from him but keeping your faces close. When he thought you’d run again, he felt your hand on his cheek and suddenly could breath again. When you kissed his cheek, like you used too when you both very clearly needed this kids of intimacy, he smiled. The honest, goofy smile he was rarely showing these days.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, finally giving in to whatever was pulling you to him so hard.

You kissed his cheek again, slowly going down to his jaw and his neck. Maybe you shouldn’t go so far after pushing him away so much, but Peter wasn’t the only one craving the other. You needed him just as badly. And he most likely wasn’t going to push you away, not when the feeling of your plump lips on his skin just made his heart stop a little more each time you’d kiss him.

When your hand ended up in his hair, playing with the brown locks, he knew he would do anything you told him. He was yours to play with right now, just like he was back then. He couldn’t stop himself from needing more but he’d start by taking everything you gave him like the greedy bastard he was.

“I’m sorry Spidey…” You repeated, kissing his chin.

There was absolutely nothing platonic about that, and maybe if you weren’t so fucking stupid you would’ve noticed earlier since you’d been doing this kinds of stuff for years. Everything was familiar and it still took you a decade to notice the very obvious situation you were both in. You truly were a match made in heaven.

His hands dropped down, freeing your wrists and instead, taking hold of your waist. Even that, he couldn’t do for long, too weak in the knees to hold you as strongly as he wished. There had to be some kind of magic in the way you touched him because his entire body suddenly felt like cotton candy.

You held his face and pulled away, ignoring the displeased growl coming out of him. You looked at his face, admiring it and swallowing back tears. You needed that man more than you needed air and you couldn’t ignore that fact any longer. You hated it, hated love and being so desperate and dependent on him but you couldn’t help it, clearly you had no control over anything anymore. You were working on autopilot.

“Kiss me again, please…” He asked, his voice so soft and polite, you swooned internally.

“I think we should talk instead…” You smiled, tenderly.

His eyes opened wide, a frown draw on his face. He looked funny and you knew that’s exactly what he was aiming at with the fake offended look. When he smacked his hand on his chest dramatically, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Oh ! So, now you want to talk ? After I practically had to bed you to just look at me ? Okay, princess. Let’s do it your way then, fuck me and what I want right ?” He sassed, looking around dramatically.

When your laugh resonated louder, he felt peace all over again. Nothing could calm him better than your smile so the power of your laugh was godly. He grinned when you tried to catch your breath, but instead practically fell to the floor. Thanks to the quick reflexes, he caught you by the front of your dress and pulled you to his chest.

“I’m sorry ! I just… I just couldn’t… Handle talking to you ? I don’t know… We haven’t in so long and suddenly everything was going to go back to normal… I couldn’t handle that… What if we talked and you realized how awful I was and am still now ?”

“Awful ? Pumpkin, don’t worry about being awful. I just pulled every toxic trick in the book to get you to look at me. And I couldn’t most likely do ten times worse if it means having you talk to me. You made me a desperate man, sweetheart.” He nodded with a playful smile.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and grinned. This felt right, peaceful, like it used to. But there was still a little bit of things that needed to be discussed first.

“Peter, You’re aware that I’m in love with you right ? Like, romantically ?” You asked, hesitant and slightly anxious about the question all together.

“Yeah I’m aware.” He responded tilting his head to the side. “Thank God, you are. Otherwise our relationship would be very awkward, pumpkin.” He smirked.

You smiled but froze when you heard his words.

“Relationship ? Like you and me ? Dating ? Like a couple ? Like people in love who hold hands and kiss and go on dates ? Like, actually dating ?”

The whole babbling was adorable and he wanted to stay looking at you in silence while you just kept talking but he needed to clear things up first. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him with a smile that said just enough. The kind you’d give to someone you loved more than a friend and definitely more than a person you liked.

“Pumpkin, listen to me and listen to me well.” Taking your face in his large hands, he kissed your forehead tenderly. “You’re my girlfriend and you’ll become more soon enough too. I’m not letting you run away from me again. Yes, this is a romantic kidnapping. Yes I intend on marrying you one day, if you’re not tired of me by that time. But yeah, we’re together in all senses of the term. In an actual romantic relationship.” Each word was separated by soft kisses all over your face, from your forehead to your cheek. He made sure to make you plead for more by kissing the corner of your mouth and your neck. Peter knew how to make you weak too.

“You’re okay with being my boyfriend, Pete ? I have a tendency to run, and I’m pretty fast.”

“I’m faster than you.” He responded quickly.

“I have issues with choosing myself too, I tend to put others first.”

“Great, I get to put you first instead. But we’re going to work on that whole people pleasing thing you’ve got going on.”

“I’ve got a niece who bites and protects me like I’m made of gold too.” You added, remembering events between your exes and your little niece.

“Oh really ? You’re pulling the niece card ?” He asked playfully. When you nodded with a large smile, he kissed your neck. “Good luck with that sweetheart because your niece loves me. She gives me a piece of the deserts you bake her every time she has some. Practically sure she chose me to be yours. Can that be considered a form of conditioning ? I don’t know, but I don’t mind.” It was his turn to babble, but it was more than fine, you loved it and so did he, seeing the laugh coming out of you was worth all of it.

You both stayed there for a little more, him watching you while he told the dumbest jokes ever and you laughing until your stomach started to hurt. You were back to who you had left behind years ago, who you could only be with the other. You were finally feeling the weight of lying to yourself for years. It felt right. You wanted to slap yourself for taking so many years to understand that lying wouldn’t make you feel any better, but it was a necessary period in a way. No mistakes, only fun experiences or lessons to learn from.

You were catching your breath when his thumb pulled on your lower lip, staring at your mouth with the kind of hunger he never felt for anyone else. You held his wrist in both hands while he kept playing with your lip. You knew what he was looking for and what you were waiting for too, the real question was, who was going to take the first step.

The answer was easy, you were. Leaning forward, you pecked his lips and retreated back to see him lose it right in front of your eyes. You expected a reaction but not to be pinned to the floor and be kissed with the kind of might that Thor himself would be surprised by.

Was he touch starved ? Not really, or maybe yes. But your touch was what he wanted. Gone was the soft moments from earlier, he was trying to show you exactly what your absence had done to him. One his hands grabbed your neck and pulled you to him with force, the other placed on the small of your back and pushing you forward, making your arch your back. He was holding your nape tightly and pushed his face towards yours, lips puckering before covering yours passionately. His fingers lowered, rubbing your thick thighs while his arm wrapped around your body.

He was working his lips with ease on yours, making your insides melt into a puddle at each move of his. His tongue was pushed deep in your mouth, making you moan, and you knew you weren’t going to last longur kissing like this. Not with the obscene tingle buzzing between your legs. He smiled into the kiss, knowing exactly what you were feeling. You couldn’t hide from him and his heightened senses. He licked the inside of your cheek, feeling his ego grow when you whimpered, pleading as if you were pushing yourself against him.

When he pulled away, the messy kiss left you numb and still on the floor. You were trying your best to catch your breath and settle your mind all at once. He stayed silent, watching you while rubbing his thumb over your flesh. When you felt calm enough, your eyes noticed the sign o’ top of your head that held the name of your niece’s school. Right. You were literally on the floor.

“Your brain’s still working pumpkin ?” He asked playfully.

You looked towards him in confusion.

“Why are we on the floor Parker ? And were you going to fuck me in front of my niece’s school ? In the street ?”

“Well, not at first. But now that you mention it, that could be a great idea, don’t you think ?”

The punch that followed was deserved, and he had supersenses to dodge so no excuse. You sat up while he was laughing and fixed your dress before getting up. He soon followed and looked at you up and down.

“That dress is made for you. You look beautiful.” He said, his eyes showing the kind of love and sweetness that could make you drop to your knees. You were weak to compliments but his were just different, they came from the man you loved and unfortunately you couldn’t resist those.

You looked away, hiding your smile when the man you now called your boyfriend lifted you up in his arms. You held onto him, tightly holding his neck while he laughed like he had just done the funniest thing ever.

“We’re taking a shortcut back to my place. I have a lot of things to talk about with you.”

No talking was done. Absolutely none. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming but you liked being delusional, it made life a constant surprise. Now, to say you were surprised by how the events had turned, would be lying again. You expected some kind of intimacy with Peter, but never that strong. You both ended up being swept away by the wave of desire you felt and were letting yourself drown, it was fine, you were drowning together.

There was something divine about the vision in front of him and the sensations born from said vision. If he could paint, or turn his memories into pictures, he would’ve made you the biggest one, kept hidden from the public for his eyes only. He was simple, to the point of being slightly stupid maybe, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to worship the very ground you walked on after tonight and even more now that you were gracing him with more pleasure, the kind that even his wildest dreams couldn’t provide.

“P-Pumpkin… Please b-baby… Please…”

He was sobbing softly, crying tears of pleasure under your mischievous smile. He was close and he needed his release but he didn’t want it to come just yet, he didn’t want it to stop, not so soon. He couldn’t hold on longer but he needed more, always needed more of you. Again, greedy, he wouldn’t deny it, but could you blame him ? You had rocked his world and left him to fend for himself for over a decade.

Maybe it was his senses, maybe it was the years of intrusive sexual thoughts or wet dreams that were just all working against him in that moment. All of these were good hypotheses for his current state but he was too fucked out and dumb to think about them clearly. His brain wasn’t processing much right now but one thing that was for sure is that he had his cock nestled deep inside you, so deep that he could see how pretty his thick shaft looked through your belly,

Inhuman quantities of cum were dripping out of your pussy in the most obscene ways, pouring down your inner thighs and other places on your body , and he was certain that he was going to shoot out more in the next seconds if you kept on torturing him like that with your pretty lips, all swollen from him fucking your thoughts and tasting his own cum in your mouth. Another thing he knew was that all that cum, he’d pound it back into you as soon as his brain would gain back a little bit of that power he had earlier, before you turned him into a literal puppet, ready to obey your every command.

He was squirming and crying more by the second, needy for just a little bit of peace but also begging for you to use him more. He was absolutely fucked, that was another certainty with you around. Less than a day back into his life and he was already going crazy, the rest of eternity would be fun for you both.

You could’ve been a little nicer and actually moved on top of him but it was your turn to have him dumb and begging for you.

“Come on, Pete… I-Ah… I know… Y-You can give me a little m-more of you… Please b-baby, I just need it… G-Give me all of it… Please…” The sound of your moans so close to his ear made him lose himself a little more.

You started off slowly, using your knees to raise yourself on his cock until it slipped out. You saw how hard it was, covered in both your cum and leaking thick droplets of more. He was full, so full, he could explode. Never had he been this aroused but that was until you. His entire body was releasing years of attempts to calm himself down with his hands in one night and he wasn’t strong enough to take it. Lucky him you didn’t seem to give a fuck about that, enjoying the whimpering mess you’d turned him into.

The restraint he wanted to say he had was slowly disappearing, with his capacity to think straight. You kissed his earlobe and bit his jaw, making him shiver and cry a little more. His own body was betraying him, searching for that friction, the utmost level of contact with you. He tried to stay still and silent but couldn’t and started moving

Rubbing your folds on his tip, you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head, oh how the table have turned. His hands were tightly wrapped around your waist but started sliding down to your ass, ready to grip on you and slam you down on his cock. He wanted that, god he wanted so many things right now. But all of it was about you.

Poor man felt like a teenager going through puberty all over again. His face was as red and a cheery and the more you teased, the worst it got. His skin was burning so much, you couldn't last long while touching it. That was what an overstimulated Peter felt like. His hips kept bucking up, trying to push at least a few inches of him inside you. Fuck, he needed to feel your warm walls or else he'd go crazy.

“B-Baby… Baby Fuck… Please, I’m sorry… Please… P-Please, please, please… Lemme fuck you Pumpkin… Please ? Lemme feel that dripping pussy all around me… Fuck, please baby, let me inside…” He sobbed, unable to stop squirming while he could feel your entrance clench on his tip.

You looked down at yourself then at him. He was still whimpering and squirming, his entire body shaking as he pleaded with his eyes for you.

You smirked before fully sitting down on his cock, letting it take all the space inside you, filling you up exactly like it should. Looking down, you could see his tip poking through again and so could he, he was definitely looking.

“P-Peter ! Fuck, P-Peter ! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck ! F-Feels… Feels so good !”

When you started bouncing on him again, fully jumping on his fat cock and letting the large throbbing girth invade you like nothing ever had before, he lost himself under you. He watched with admiration how your tits, still covered in cum from earlier, were bouncing up and down too. Fuck, his balls felt more full just from that image alone.

Tight and aching to be emptied, he could stop himself from getting more aroused. You leaned back, giving him full view of your pussy wrapped around him, sinking down on his entire length and taking every inch. Your dripping cunt was truly made for him, swallowing his dick down to the very last millimeter and moaning out for more like a bitch in heat.

His hands grabbed onto your waist, holding it tightly before he started to slam you down on his dick himself. As established before, he was a mess, but one thing he was good at was pleasuring you. No matter what, he’d always find a way to make you feel good. That night alone had been a sufficient proof of that.

At first he had been worried that using too much strength on you would hurt you, but when he noticed how much you loved being tossed around, he could hold back any longer, and he didn’t try to. He used the abilities given by the spider bite with care and if you wanted, he’d use them on you too. Today was the strength and tomorrow it could be the webs, who knew ?

“Y-You cockdrunk minx… Y-You like that huh ? Like it as much as I do…… That pussy’s killing me Pumpkin… Fuck, fuck, fuck… Please baby, tell me you like that… Like it when I fuck you stupid…” He begged, his lower parts guiding his thoughts and controlling his words.

“Y-Yes ! God yes ! Peter please ! M-More cock ! Please, gimme more ! Please !” You cried loudly, so loudly that your voice could probably be heard by the entire building. They probably weren’t used to the nice teacher neighbor bringing in this kind of company.

Slamming your poor weakened body on his cock with the strength of a bull in heat, he fed on the sounds resonating around the room. Your moans and cries of pleasure topped with loud sounds of your thighs slapping against his were the biggest ego boost ever. What truly did the work though was the sound of his sack slapping hard against your folds. Soft and swollen in contrast with the hard flesh of his balls. He was close, way too close.

Your entire body went numb, the thick load of cum you’d been begging for, invading every crevice of your pussy and oozing out of your already filled inside. Your little whimpers were the only thing that could be heard, with his own sounds. He’d never felt this defenseless before, weak to his instinct and clearly enjoying it.

Soon, he started moving his hips up and down, reaching for his end. His actions were so aggressive you couldn't even meet his thrusts or move freely, he was in control all while looking like he wanted to drown in your pussy. He was so red, just looking at his flushed cheeks and crossed eyes while he plowed into you made you even wetter. That reaction, you knew he loved it even more when his thick mushroom shaped tip pushed into your weak spot even harder.

He couldn’t avoid it anymore and you wanted it so badly, he could only oblige. He kept pounding into your spot, the throbbing head of his girth vibrating impatiently, he bit on his lip, his eyes crossed and his hands holding onto you for dear life. It wasn’t long before he came but he wouldn’t be the only one, never.

“F-Fuck… Ah, P-Pumpkin My sweet… Fuck, sweet princess… Taking… T-Taking everything from me… All that cum, all of it… All f-for you baby… All of me… Take it, take all of it…” He muttered, incapable to think of coherent sentences.

You were both trembling on the other, Peter still cumming inside you and you close to your end. He was dramatic and had he been able too, he would’ve most likely scolded himself for cumming first. But now wasn’t the time, instead, he pulled your warm body down, your breasts in his face just like he loved, and got to work.

He sucked one of your tits in his mouth while rubbing his thumb over the nipple of the other. His free hand was playing with your lower parts, rubbing on your clit while two of his fingers slid inside you. You arched your back, pushing your breasts in his face while he toyed with you. He loved that, finding put new ways of ruining you, even when you were already a mess. He’d play until you stopped him or until you passed out on top of him. A little sick, but that was Peter and you loved him exactly like that.

His fingers pushed around inside your filled cunt, pulling out to be covered in his cum. There was something about the image that filled him with pride. Maybe the way you accepted to be filled that way by him.

Letting go of your tits with both his mouth and hand, he laid it on your back, caressing you tenderly. His face went up to your neck, inhaling your scent and his mixed together perfectly. He kissed your jaw, cheek, neck and basically everything he could reach. His tongue licked small parcels of skin after each kiss, taking your taste with him. He was being tender and soft while his fingers kept rubbing on your clit. You didn’t last long before letting your sweet juices coat his large member and drip all over him. The sounds of your cries of pleasure in his ears were like music, the music he had dreamt of for years and finally he could hear it live.

You both stayed connected together, the poor man couldn’t handle the idea of pulling out and neither could you. Each breath you took ended up with him jumping out of nowhere. He would apologize but you could hear the laugh in his voice. He enjoyed this.

You stayed on top of him, your face, buried in his messy hair and his scent filling your senses. His face was in the crook of your neck, dropping butterfly kisses on your skin and biting when he felt especially playful. His hands stayed on your back, caressing you tenderly while his hips rolled under you. Yeah, he never said he’d stop moving, and in his defense, you were moving too.

“Hey, Pete. Do you think we would’ve ended up meeting each other again ? Even if you weren’t my niece’s teacher ?” You asked softly, kissing the crown of his head and siting up straight.

He smiled under you, his warm palm cradling your cheek and wiping remnants of your tears from earlier. He looked at you and you felt like you were the center of the universe. Because you were, the center of the universe and mostly of his universe. He was in love with you, and so were you. But no words could ever truly express how much he loved you, none.

“Listen to me.” He started, sitting straight to face you and stare into your eyes. “In every lifetime, planet, dimension, universe, whatever you want. In every single one of these, you and I, we find each other again. No matter what we do or who we are. Because you’re my soulmate, pumpkin. You’re everything to me, my everything. And I’ll let myself get swallowed by a black hole before I let anything change that. So yes, I don’t just think, I know we would’ve found each other again. We always do and we always will.”

There was some parts of truth in Peter's words and you both felt it, from the moment you met to the present. There was no way of explaining it or why but you knew you were soulmates. From the bottom pf your hearts you both knew it, because beyond words and actions, you were tied to the other. It was impossible to separate you both and doing so would never last, because you always found your way back to the other. Maybe it was fate or some kind of guardian angel, but you both knew it to be true.

You were soulmates and you had found you way back to the other again. With the help of your niece that you would both shower in bakeries. Maybe she was the guardian angel, who knew.

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babeyvenus · 3 months

Text

Venom?

Tasm! Peter x Venom! Reader

Ch. 4

Peter led you back home, now on high alert. He didn't let you get up to get anything without him unless you needed to use the bathroom.

Any other time, he had you laying down in bed. It bugged you a bit, but it was sweet of him to be so worried.

Does he taste sweet, though?

You paused. What the fuck. Taste??? Why would you want to taste him?

Sensing your sudden discomfort and silence made him glance over to you. "You okay?", he asked for the umpteenth time.

You force a smile on your face, giving him a nod. "Mhm." His eyes narrowed a bit but he didn't press you.

Hungry.

The voice made you flinch a bit which made Peter stand. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head. "Just feeling hungry right now.", you rushed. He nodded. "What're you feeling up to? Take out? Pizza?"

You nod. "Pizza sounds nice. Just something to get in my system."

Peter nodded, grabbing his phone to call for delivery. He would've gone out to get you some other foods, but didn't trust himself to leave you alone again.

After he finished, he hung up and sighed softly, glancing at you again. "You sure you're okay?"

You couldn't give him much of an answer, considering there wasn't much he could do. "I don't even know, P. One minute I've got a booming headache, the next I'm hearing the same voice and the pain goes away once it's satisfied. I'm trying as much as I can to make sure it stays satisfied so it can shut up."

Once you say that, a warning growl echoes in your head.

He looked at you, worried and dejected. "I don't like feeling helpless.", he says, sitting on the bed next to you. You nodded. "I know. That's what sucks."

"I don't wanna say whatever this thing is might be corrupting you or infecting you…", he shrugs and shakes his head. "I don't know what to call it. The only word I can think of is parasite, since it's living off of you."

Parasite!?

The loud voice booms in your ears, making you flinch and cover them. "I think you just said a very bad word.", you whispered. Peter looks at you in confusion and worry. "What, Para—" You quickly covered his mouth. "Yes, that word. Don't say it again."

Nodding, he shuts his lips and you remove your hand. The voice quiets down and you sigh in relief. "I've never been so glad for silence.", you say, giving Peter a weak smile.

"It's that loud, huh?", he joked.

"Very.", you replied. Snuggling up to him, you laid your head on his chest, receiving an arm around you in return.

The soft beats against your ear makes you want to shut your eyes and hide away from the world.

"Comfy?" Peter interrupts your thoughts.

You nod, smiling. "Your heart's beating really fast." He huffed out a chuckle. "Could've mistaken that for yours. Yours is going a mile a minute."

The peace doesn't last long once the doorbell starts ringing obnoxiously, which causes you to flinch away from Peter, and cover your ears in pain.

"What!? What's-", his heart dropped in realization. Loud noises. The thing can't stand loud noises. He stored that information in the back of his mind.

Thrashing around made Peter panic between trying to calm you down and going for the door instead.

Trembling from the sudden quiet, you drop your arms and glance at him. He made his way over to you, scooping you in his arms. "It's over. I got you.", he reassures. You curled up, letting out a sigh.

He opened the front door, quickly taking the pizza and slamming the door in the deliverer's face before setting the pizza box on the table and coming to your aid.

Like before, darkened veins appeared on your skin as they enlarged. To Peter, he'd already stopped the doorbell from ringing more, but to you and the intruder in you, the ringing echoed until it stopped.

"I don't think you can even listen to music anymore.", he tried to joke. You shook your head. "Silence sounds so good right now."

"And pizza?", he asked. You nodded, giving him a weak smile. He slipped away, sitting you up on your bed frame before leaving to get the pizza box.

He couldn't imagine how painful it was. To see that something like loud noises could trigger the thing made him paranoid. His hearing was very good, but not that sensitive.

What if it was something louder? If not a doorbell, what else would he have to protect you from? Car horns? Sirens? Was yelling too loud? Did your own screams hurt you back at the hospital?

His thoughts constantly jumbled together and you could see it on his face. "Your thoughts are loud.", you say, snapping him out.

His eyes widened. "You can read my mind too?" You snorted and shook your head. "No, you're just an open book. Quit worrying."

He huffed, sitting next to you. "I can't help that. I worry about you because I care. I should've taken you home that night."

"But you did.", you say. He gives you a grimace. "I meant before finding you passed out in an alley I specifically told you not to go walking through."

"Now it's my fault?", you ask, raising an eyebrow. Peter quickly responded, "Your words, not mine."

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you take a slice, humming in satisfaction of the food.

After eating plenty of slices and leaving the rest for Peter, you sighed in relief. "You doing okay?", Peter asked. Only having energy to nod, you did.

Everything felt content for however long it'll last until both of you perked up to the sound of sirens speeding down the street.

"Dammit.", Peter mumbled and looked down at you. "I don't wanna leave you alone."

You gave him a soft smile, trying to reassure him. "I think I'll be fine without you babysitting me, Pete. Go be Spiderman."

He bit his lip before sighing and nodding. "Okay. Okay." He pressed a kiss to your forehead before going for your window. He paused and looked back at you, "Just... Call if you get a weird feeling. Please."

You nod, giving him a light push. "You're gonna be late.", you laugh with a whine. A smile appearing on his face, he opened your window. "Love you.", he says.

Grinning, you walk over to kiss his cheek. "I love you. Now, go.", you say, and he chuckled, swinging out of the window.

You watch him leave before letting out a sigh and closed the window. "Please, don't let anything happen to today.", you begged to no one special.

#tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm x reader #tasm imagine #tasm #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter x venom reader #venom #marvel #andrew garfield!peter parker #andrew garfield peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x black female reader #tasm peter parker x black reader

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lady-morrigen · 2 years

Text

Right Now You're Mine

pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

words: 5.7K

warnings: 18+ content, cursing, drunk guys refusing to take "no" for an answer (not Peter), college/post-college aged reader & Peter

a/n: so i was listening to "Skin to Skin" by Movements and couldn't get the idea of tumultuous on and off relationship with Peter out of my head, this is the outcome of that. i recommend listening to it before or after reading! thanks as always to my forever beta @acrossthesestars for editing this into something legible. i am nothing without you 🖤

masterlist | taglist

(divider by @silkholland)

The driving bass rippled through the shitty apartment, nearly drowned out by the voices of all the people crammed inside. You’d found a relatively empty corner to stand in, preferring to be there rather than brushing shoulders with total strangers. You always felt so out of place at these big parties, even when you came with friends.

Your fingers picked nervously at the label of the warm Bud Platinum in your hand. Your friend Mike grabbed a case of them for you after class. You’d assumed he would grab them from the refrigerated section but you had been terribly wrong. It’s not like you even enjoyed the taste, but they were relatively cheap and brought on a comfortable buzz much quicker than the Busch Ice that the boys usually kept in the fridge.

The song changed and you brought the bottle to your lips, singing along to the opening lines of “All Night Longer” almost out of instinct before tipping it back and allowing the bitter liquid to take the edge off your anxiety. You were staring blankly into the throng of people in front of you, observing the way their bodies pressed close together, gyrating awkwardly to the beat. Out of nowhere, a voice, surprisingly close, snapped you out of your reverie.

“You a big Sammy Adams fan?” The boy to your right asked, turning to face you. You snorted derisively into your beer and shook your head.

“It’s impossible not to sing along when the boys play the damn song any chance they get.”

He laughed then, a bright sound that caught your full attention, and you turned to face him fully. Boyishly good looking, he had tousled brown hair and a smile that made his dark eyes twinkle. He was wearing a plain black shirt, thumbs tucked through holes in the sleeves, under a green cargo jacket, and dark jeans; he seemed out of place in the sea of pastel and white worn by the frat bros throwing the party. You recognized him, you thought, as the quiet boy that had sat behind you in your European History class freshman year.

“Hey, I know you!” You had to shout to be heard over the music, leaning into his space and placing a stabilizing hand on his shoulder. “You had Dr. G freshman year, right?”

“That’s right,” he smiled at you, a hint of surprise lighting up his eyes. He angled the neck of his bottle toward you, the gesture mirroring that of a handshake as he introduced himself. “Peter.”

You clinked your bottle to his, half-shouting your name as you turned back to the party. Turns out he already knew your name; sitting in the front row had made you an easy target for a professor who made it his life’s ambition to rag on students every chance he got.

“Nice to officially meet you,” you said, taking another swig of your beer with a grimace.

“I take it you come to these parties a lot?” That was an understatement. Your roommate was dating the chapter President and you inevitably found yourself tagging along with her to impromptu parties at least three nights per week. But you’d never bumped into Peter at one before.

“Mmm,” you hummed against the lip of your bottle and pointed to your roommate and her boyfriend in the opposite corner. “You see that blonde over there with Fletcher? That’s my roommate, Cate. She drags me here every other night.”

“I see,” He pointed towards them as well. “Fletcher invited me tonight. He asked me to take pictures of the party for their upcoming recruitment video. Offered to pay me in beer.”

“I hope you left your camera at home,” you scoffed. He grimaced, twisting so you could see his backpack. “Fletcher can be such a dick sometimes.”

“Hey, I don’t mind,” he said. He shoved his free hand into the pocket of his jeans and rocked back on his heels, a sheepish smile on his soft mouth. “I’m enjoying the company.”

Four years passed from the night you first met Peter. Four years of study dates that turned into coffee dates, late night texts, and sending each other silly Instagram videos on bad days. You had never become an “official” couple, preferring to fall into each other when the moment was convenient, or when you’d had a little too much to drink. On nights that Peter was out doing god knows what, you’d sometimes fill your bed with another warm body. More frequently, you would spend the evening alone, polishing off a bottle of wine to drown out the lingering loneliness.

It’s not that you didn’t care for each other. In fact, you probably cared a little too much. Life just had a habit of getting in the way and you both had your own respective walls up. Relationships never seemed to work out well for you, so it was easier to avoid them. You avoided getting too close to anyone, so you threw yourself into your work, making up excuses about how you were too busy for anything serious. Peter had his secrets too, a clandestine job that had him working nights and odd hours. You pretended not to notice the black eyes or the swollen lips, the way he insisted on keeping the lights off so you couldn’t see the scars that marked his body.

He never told you what it was he was doing, but he would frequently find his way to your door in the early hours of the morning. He’d be propped against the door frame, a sheepish smile firmly in place, asking to come in and talk for a while. Most of the time, there was very little talking involved. Instead, your studio would be filled with the sounds of your pleasure, fading into a comfortable quiet just as the first light of dawn began to filter through the fogged windows.

You’d lie there with tangled limbs, your bare skin pressed firmly against his as you traced delicate circles over the planes of his chest. You’d tell him about your shitty day, your weekend plans, and about how you secretly hoped to one day leave the city and make a name for yourself. Peter never once shared details about the ghosts that haunted him, the ones you could see dancing in the shadows of his eyes, but you had learned early on not to push. "I like hearing about your day," he would say. "I don’t want to bore you with the details of mine."

It was all so intimate, the traveling hands, forehead kisses, and intertwined fingers. Sometimes, you’d let yourself imagine that it was real, that he was yours, and you didn’t have to give him up with the sunrise. Eventually, the dawn would become too bright to ignore and he’d extract himself from you, despite your protests, leaving you all alone in your big bed with little more than a parting kiss and a whispered promise of calling you later.

You’d toss and turn, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before peeling yourself out of bed and catching the train to work, but it was usually hopeless. You were never able to calm your racing thoughts long enough to get anything resembling rest. Instead, you’d throw on a pot of coffee and sink into a chair by the window to watch the last of the darkness slowly fade into daylight.

Deciding you were through with your self-pity, you agreed to go out with Cate and Fletcher while they were in town, knowing that you’d be in bed by 11 pm at the latest. You’d agreed purely out of a desire to get out of your own head for a bit, thinking that some face time with your best friend might do you some good. Slipping into a tight dress, you swiped on some concealer in an attempt to look more alive than you felt and headed out the door.

The club was packed - long weekends always brought plenty of tourists into the city. The feeling of the pulsing bass, paired with the vibrant flashing lights and the familiar burn of a vodka soda felt like a balm to your soul. Or at least a distraction from your problems. It had been so long since you’d let yourself go out and enjoy letting loose. Something like guilt had begun gnawing at you about a year ago, when you realized how deep your feelings for Peter ran. You hadn’t brought another man home since.

As the music and the alcohol began to loosen your limbs, you let Cate drag you onto the dance floor. Your hips moved in time with the seductive rhythm as you brandished your drink in the air, singing along to lyrics of a song you’d nearly forgotten. It wasn’t long before a pair of unfamiliar hands circled your waist, and pulled you against a firm body, encouraging you to keep dancing. As the scent of his overpowering cologne attacked your senses, you turned just enough to see the strangers face, and complied. He was handsome enough, with deep olive skin, a shock of nearly-black hair, and hazel eyes that seemed to stare right through you. When you turned back to face Cate, she was giving you a thumbs up in approval, a devilish grin on her face. You made sure to stay in the middle of the dance floor, under the brightest lights so that anyone could see if the stranger tried anything that crossed a line. It’s not like you’d never danced with a stranger before, but something told you to be careful with this one.

One song turned into two, turned into five and you found yourself in need of another drink and a break to catch your breath. The stranger’s hands hadn’t left your hips and you were suddenly feeling touched out. You looked toward the bar to check on the lines and your heart leapt into your throat. There, leaning his back up against the polished counter and staring directly at you was Peter. There was no anger in his eyes, but you knew him. Well enough to know that there was hurt masked behind the cool indifference of his expression. He casually sipped his drink then turned back to signal to the bartender, leaving you frozen in place.

When you had finally convinced your limbs to move again, you turned to your dance partner and mumbled some excuse about needing to freshen up and get a new drink. He offered to come with you, his hands tightening possessively as you tried to walk away. You wriggled free, adamant that you go alone, despite the brief flash of anger that flared in his eyes. Looking around for Cate or Fletcher, you noticed they were nowhere to be found. They had a habit of sneaking off to a corner somewhere to paw at each other and you cursed them for leaving you alone with that creep.

When you finally made it through the sea of sweaty bodies to the bar top, you were shocked to find that Peter was nowhere to be found. Had you imagined him? Was this your guilt manifesting itself in the form of hallucinations? It’s not like you had been sleeping well and Peter had been running through your mind all night, that familiar gnawing guilt trying to claw its way back to the front of your mind. You waved the bartender over, ordering a shot of Jameson and grimacing as the dark liquid burned in your throat. A wave of heat washed over you as it hit your belly, suddenly making the crowded club feel entirely too warm.

You moved toward the exit, hoping that the fresh air would offer some relief. Breathing deep as you stepped outside, you allowed the cool, damp air to fill your lungs and closed your eyes. You had been a fool to think that coming here would make you forget about Peter, to think that anything could erase the mark that he’d burned into you years ago. Exhaling, you dug your phone from your bag, fingers flexing around it as you scrolled through your contacts and hovered over the call button. Calling Peter right now could be a big mistake, especially if you hadn’t imagined him and he’d seen you grinding on someone else. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him and you didn’t want to make it seem like you were only calling him to assuage your guilt. With a groan you locked the screen, tucking the phone back in your bag and turning back toward the entrance.

“Well just where do you think you’re going, pretty girl?” The voice was male, incredibly deep, and unfamiliar. You looked up into the eyes of the creep from inside the bar. Had he followed you?

“I needed some fresh air,” you said plainly, trying your best to sound casual. “I’m headed back inside to get my friends. A cab will be here to get us soon.”

You were lying, but he didn’t know that. There was no one else outside with you and the thought suddenly made you feel unsafe and on edge. You would risk returning to the sensory overload that awaited you inside, if only to get away from him. You brushed past his shoulder and his hand tightened around your wrist, pulling you back against his chest. He held you there with one strong arm around your shoulders, refusing to let go as you shoved against him, trying to get free.

“I think you should stay out here with me,” he growled against your ear. His free hand slid up the back of your thigh, pushing underneath your dress to cup the curve of your bare ass. The sickening sweetness of his cologne overtook you once more, making your stomach churn as you choked on it.

You jerked against his hold again, trying your best to remain calm and not let your fear get the best of you. There was no one around to hear you scream and no one inside the club would notice you over the loud music, so you kept as still as you could, waiting for the right moment to fight back.

“I was hoping we’d get a little privacy,” he said. “You put on quite a little show for me.”

He loosened his grip ever so slightly, intending to turn you around to face him, and you used it to your advantage. Lifting your heeled food, you brought it down hard onto the top of his. He howled in pain, but his grip remained firm as you fought against it. You did it again, this time swinging your arm down with force, connecting with his groin. He stumbled and you lurched forward out of his arms, putting a safer distance between the two of you as you reached for your phone to call for help.

“You bitch,” he said.

He stood up to his full height, taking a stumbling step toward you. You were about to grab for your mace when a blur of red and blue whizzed past you, colliding with the man and sending him flying back onto his ass.

“Ok, now I know I’m seeing things,” you mumbled to yourself, swaying on your feet.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Standing over the crumpled man was Spider-Man. You’d seen articles about him in the paper and the smear campaign that they ran on the local news stations, but you never thought much about it. Truthfully, you were a little skeptical that he was actually real. It would be hard to deny after this.

The masked man crouched, hovering over your assailant and muttering something that you couldn’t make out. Taking a tentative step forward, you stopped when he suddenly stood, gesturing for you to stay back. You froze, unsure of whether to run like hell or stay and watch him beat the shit out of the guy who just manhandled you.

Without warning, the man climbed to his feet and charged at Spider-Man. Dipping his shoulder, he aimed it squarely at his ribs, and slammed the masked man into the wall with a sickening crunch. Spider-Man crumpled to the ground, unmoving, and your attacker turned to you once more.

“Now,” he said, huffing a breath and taking a step toward you. “Where were we?”

Before he could take another step, his legs were yanked out from underneath him by a web, shot from the heap where Spider-Man still lay. He climbed to his feet, doubled over from the pain of having the wind knocked out of him, and probably a couple of broken ribs. He limped forward, pinning the man in place with strategically placed webs on his hands and feet. Facing you, he spoke. His voice was hoarse, but familiar in a way you couldn’t quite place.

“Go,” he croaked. “Get out of here. I’ve got this.”

You did as you were told, afraid of the consequences if you didn’t. Thankfully, your apartment was only a couple of blocks from the club. You frantically scrolled through your phone, looking for Peter’s name, and pressed the call button. The phone rang and rang and rang, and you were forced to leave a desperate, sniffling voicemail when he didn’t pick up.

The tears were flowing freely by the time you circled the corner and took the stairs to your apartment two at a time. Your eyes were blurry, causing you to fumble with the keys and drop them to the ground with a curse. On your second try, you managed to scoot inside, closing the lobby door safely behind you with a thud.

You sobbed through the elevator ride to your floor, thinking only of how Spider-Man had stepped in to help you from a stranger, someone who clearly couldn’t take no for an answer. You were usually so smart, careful not to take risks and leave yourself vulnerable, but you’d been lost in your own head and not paying close enough attention. Now someone else was going to pay the price.

As you walked in, you threw your bag and phone onto the couch and kicked off your shoes, sending them flying across the small expanse of your living room to be lost in the dark. Tossing yourself onto your bed, you didn't bother to change out of your dress before crawling under the duvet. You’d wash the sheets later. As you lie there, you couldn’t help but think about how badly you wished Peter were with you. The gentle security of his arms was the only thing you craved in that moment.

You wanted him to hold you to his chest, tuck your head in the space below his chin, and stroke your hair until all of the tension left your body. You wanted to feel the rumble of his voice as you pressed yourself into his chest. In short, you wanted him. The empty space in your bed reminded you that he wasn’t there and that he wouldn’t answer your calls.

As the tears slowed and your breathing began to even out, you felt the weight of your exhaustion lying heavy on you like a blanket. The first tease of sleep began to creep into your limbs and you breathed deeply, inhaling the familiar scent of your fabric softener and the spicy remnants of Peter’s cologne. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you heard a knock - one long, two short, one long, the coded knock that Peter had begun using over a year ago.

Convinced you were dreaming, partially due to the fact that you’d been crying yourself to sleep with him fresh on your mind, you snuggled deeper into the blanket and ignored it. It sounded again, this time much louder and accompanied by Peter’s voice on the other side of the door. You leapt from the bed, legs tangling in the sheets and crashed face down onto the floor. With a groan, you scrambled to your feet and opened the front door.

Leaning against the frame was Peter, a look of concern on his face and a thick sheen of sweat on his brow. Without waiting for an invitation, he pushed himself inside, grabbing you by the wrist and turning you to face him. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, his hands ghosting behind as he scanned for injuries.

“Are you ok?” He asked, his hands cupping your cheeks and forcing you to face him.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine,” you said. “I just fell out of bed Peter, it’s ok.”

“That’s not what I mean, I-” His voice was uncharacteristically sharp, something he must have noticed because he softened his tone when he spoke again. “You called me like 10 times and then you didn’t pick up when I called you back. I was worried.”

You choked out a sob, falling into his arms as he led you to the bed, sitting you gingerly on the edge. He crouched in front of you, his thumbs tracing soothing circles on the backs of your hands.

“What happened?” His voice was thick with emotion and it made something inside of you crack. You told him all about the guy from the club, how violated you had felt with his hands on you, and how grateful you were that Spider-Man had been there to save you.

“Otherwise…” you trailed off. You didn’t want to verbalize what would have come next. He shushed you, pulling you into his chest and gingerly rubbing your back. You wrapped your arms around his waist, squeezing tightly to convince yourself he was really there. It couldn’t have been too tight, but Peter tensed, a barely perceptible wince escaping his lips.

You pulled back, allowing yourself to really look at him and realized that he had a giant bruise forming along his cheekbone. Upon closer inspection, you could see a small cut in the center of the swollen knot. He swallowed hard, gritting his teeth as he stared off into the corner.

“Peter, what happened?” You gingerly ran your fingers along his side, taking note of how his body grew impossibly more tense from the effort of holding back. Carefully, you lifted up his shirt to reveal a large, reddish purple bruise stretching across his ribs.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just work stuff.”

You replayed the events of your attack over in your mind, loosely fitting the puzzle pieces together in your mind as you came up with an answer that seemed too impossible to believe. Your heart raced as you searched for the courage to ask him one question, knowing that the answer might just be your missing puzzle piece.

“Where were you tonight?”

He turned to face you, his eyes not meeting yours as he fidgeted nervously with the strap on your dress.

“You look so pretty,” he dodged your question, letting his knuckles drag over the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Peter,” you tried again, breathing in sharply through your nose before continuing. “Did I see you at the club tonight or not?”

“I might have stopped in for a drink or two,” he looked into your eyes then, his own red rimmed and brimming with emotion. You closed your eyes, slowly breathing out as you willed your racing heart to slow down. You felt dizzy, like the solid weight of the bed would dissolve and swallow you whole.

“And where did you go after that?” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, sticking to the roof as it fumbled over your words. “I tried to find you at the bar, but you disappeared.”

“It was hot in there,” he leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and nuzzling your nose. “I went around the corner for a coffee.”

“Peter…” Your voice was nothing but a whisper as the past four years all started to make sense. All of the secrecy, the scars, the odd hours. It hit you like a ton of bricks and you felt foolish for not figuring it out before. “It was you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His lips were mere inches from yours, brushing languidly against the side of your mouth.

“Oh give it up, Parker!” You pulled away, jumping to your feet and whirling on him. His shocked face stared back at you for a moment. Then he looked away, clenched jaw ticking as a tear streaked down his bruised cheek. You softened, taking a tentative step towards him and crouching so that you were eye level. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“No,” he stood to leave, furiously shaking his head. “No no no no no no no, I can’t do this. I said I wouldn’t do this.”

“Do what?!” You were shouting at him now as tears fell freely down your face. “Let me in?”

“Don’t,” he growled, jabbing a finger in your direction before letting his hand fall weakly by his side. “Don’t you dare talk about not letting someone in.”

You were stunned into silence, staring at him with confusion twisting your brows. You couldn’t do anything but stammer weakly.

“Oh don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve been trying to break down your walls for the better part of four years now, hoping that one day… but I can’t get close to you.”

“How did you expect me to let you in when you constantly keep me at arms length? I mean, god, Peter I don’t even know where you go at night or where all of your bruises come from. You don’t tell me anything.”

“I… I can’t,” he stubbed the toe of his converse against your wood floors with a squeak. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Do you really think anyone is going to mess with me when I’m with fucking Spider-Man? How much safer could it get?!”

“That’s exactly why they would mess with you. To get to me. I’ve lost too many people I loved and I couldn’t do anything to save them. I tried and I… I just couldn’t.” Peter sat back on the edge of your bed dropping his head into his hands and heaving a sob. “I can’t lose you too.”

You sat beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and placing your hand gently on his knee.

“Hey, I’m right here,” you whispered. “I understand the risks and I’m staying right here. Don’t mourn me before I’m gone.”

“But what if I can’t protect you?”

“You’ve already shown me that you’re more than capable of protecting me. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up tonight?”

Peter shook his head as if trying to clear the thought from his mind, eyes still glued to the floor. You gave his thigh a squeeze, nuzzling even closer into his neck and his hand came up to rest on your shoulder.

“There was no doubt in my mind tonight that you were the only person I wanted to be with me after all of that. I called you because something in me needed you and I couldn’t explain why. Turns out you were there the whole time.”

He shifted toward you a bit, lips brushing gently over the tip of your nose as he pulled you tight to him.

“I was so angry,” he said. “I saw that creep’s hands all over you and I blacked out. I knew that it was risky, but I didn’t hesitate. Not for a second.”

“You did good, Peter. You spoke to me and your voice… I wanted it to be you, but it felt impossible.”

He kissed you then, slow and lazy, his tongue laving over yours in a way that sent flames licking up your spine. His hand was on your jaw, the other on your neck as he guided you back against the pillows. He settled between your thighs, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist as he caged you in with his arms.

He began to kiss along the edge of your jaw, blazing a trail down the column of your neck to your collarbone. Sucking a mark into the delicate skin there, he reveled in the noises you made as he moved his hips against you. A primal groan escaped his throat as he looked down upon his handiwork, branding you as his.

“I’ll never let another person touch you,” he mumbled against your skin. “I promise.”

“Peter,” His name was pathetic and breathy on your lips and you tangled your fingers into his thick hair, pulling him up to crash his lips against yours.

He furiously tugged at the straps of your dress, sliding them down over your shoulders and exposing you to the cool breeze of the fan that spun overhead. Your flesh erupted in goosebumps at the sensation and you began to tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head in one smooth motion.

Every movement was desperate as the two of you traded breathy moans laced with tension.

Peter hiked the skirt up over your hips, sliding a finger along your slit and groaning at the way your panties were soaked with desire. He began to nibble along the column of your neck as his fingers circled your clit through the thin fabric, causing you to writhe beneath him.

“All these years and you still get so wet for me.” His breath was hot against your neck as he spoke filth into your ear, dragging a broken mewl from your lips.

Your fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans, unzipping and sliding them gracelessly down his thighs as he settled back between your legs. He thrust against you and you could feel how badly he wanted you from the impossible hardness of his bulge, his boxers and your lacy scrap of underwear serving as the only barrier.

He leaned down and began mouthing at the swell of your breast, gently brushing your nipple with the pad of his thumb. Your back arched off of the bed, offering yourself up to him fully, and he devoured you greedily. His hands gripped tightly at your waist, pulling you impossibly tighter against him and dragging against your core.

Your moans turned pitchy and you began to shove at the band of his boxers, lowering them over his hips just far enough to free him, the feel of him warm and heavy in your hand. He hissed at the contact and thrust his hips forward, kissing his way up your neck toward your jaw. In a flash, your underwear were pulled to the side as he lined himself up at your entrance.

Peter’s lips found yours as he pushed in, tortuously slow, swallowing every moan as he stretched you open. He pulled out slowly, then snapped forward with more force, repeating the motion over and over again. Each thrust seemed to be laced with feeling, a message passed between you in the darkness as he gazed down at you, lids heavy with desire.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Your fingers gripped tightly into the flesh of his ass, pulling him into you, and tilting your hips to meet him thrust for thrust. Tossing your head back into the pillow, you bit back a cry as he brushed up against the spot that sent sparks dancing across the surface of your skin. You could feel the pleasure building inside of you, the coil wound tight and ready to snap.

“Don’t you dare hold back on me,” he whispered against the shell of your ear.

He hitched your knee over his hip to press impossibly deeper, laying his other hand flat against your stomach, pressing down slightly. Your release wracked your body, nails digging into Peter’s skin, desperately clinging to him and capturing his mouth in a messy kiss.

"Oh fuck," he breathed, nipping at your bottom lip. His pace had become erratic, sloppy, in response to the way you clenched around him. You fell back against the pillow and brought one hand to your breast, twisting and pebbling your nipple between your fingers as you gazed up at him from under your lashes.

He dropped his forehead to yours, eyes squeezed shut and his mouth falling open in pleasure. The sounds he made were obscene as he firmly gripped your hips, holding you in place as he spilled inside of you.

You moaned at the loss of him as he pulled out, collapsing onto the bed beside you and lacing his fingers with yours. He slowly brought your hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss against your knuckles. The two of you lay like that for a moment, struggling to catch your breath and make sense of everything that had transpired between you.

You groaned and pulled yourself from the bed, stumbling to the bathroom to clean up. When you returned, you found that Peter had climbed under the blankets after filling a glass of water for the both of you. You grabbed Peter’s t shirt from the floor, slipping it over your head and smiling shyly down at him. It all felt so… domestic, and a small part of you was afraid it would scare him off.

You grabbed the water from the bedside table, perching gently on the side of your bed as you took a long sip. Peter’s hands slipped around your waist, tugging slightly. With a chuckle, you placed the water back on the table and crawled under the blankets to face him.

He turned onto his back and pulled you into his side, his fingers strumming lazy patterns over the skin of your shoulder. You tangled your legs with his, nuzzling tightly under his chin, reminding yourself not to get too used to the feeling. But your mind began to run away from you and you found yourself imagining, once again, what if?

The coarse hair dusting his chest tickled as you danced your fingers through it absentmindedly.

“Peter?”

“Hmmm?”

“I think I can do it,” you said, your voice far less confident than you felt.

“Do what, sweetheart?” He tilted his chin to look down at you.

“Be Spider-Man’s,” you stumbled over the words. “His girlfriend, that is.”

“You’re not Spider-Man’s girlfriend.” There was a tone of finality to his voice that made your stomach sour with disappointment. He must have felt the way your face fell, your body tense where it was pressed against his. He hooked a finger under your chin and tilted you up to face him.

“You’re mine.”

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

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exist4me · 1 year

Text

Distraction

cw: grinding, cumming in pants, dirty talk18+ minor DNI

word count: 595

Peter was easily distracted by your presence, your smell, your voice, and your beautiful face. It can make the rest of the world disappear. His heightened senses didn’t help at all. You were the center of his universe. However, he needed to finish up an important work assignment which left you in the living room of his apartment watching TV and him in his room. You sighed, bored alone missing Peter. He’s been hauled up in his room for hours working without break. You left the living room to meet Peter in his room.

“Babe can I come in?” you asked after knocking on his door.

“Come in”

You opened the door, entered the room, you closed it behind you. He turned his chair to face you, smiling tenderly.

“What’s up baby?” he asked

“I miss you” you pout, walking up to him. He whispered come here, patting his thighs. You straddle him in his desk chair. His firm arms wrapped around your waist as you place your arms around his neck.

Resting your head on his shoulder you ask him, “ Baby, are you done yet? I’m bored.”

He’s stroking his thumb on your hipbone, “Not yet baby. I’m almost done.” you leave small kisses around his neck and behind his ears begging him to hurry up and play with you. He whines into your ears, feeling his warm breath on your face, “You're not playing fair”

You laugh. He looks at you lovingly, drinking in your soft joyful laughter. He leaves a short sweet kiss on the tip of your nose. Looking up at his beautiful delicate brown eyes, your lips met in a gentle embrace that quickly turned into an intense heated battle. You grind in his lap, biting his bottom lip, he lets out a faint gasp. Your tongue meets his, deepening the kiss, and his hips jerk up. You can feel his hard cock grazing your heated center. Moaning, you slowly pulled away, breathing deeply into each other's faces. You move to suck and nibble on his right ear, and he whimpers weakly, groping your ass, and pushing you further into his tented crotch. You lick and suck on his neck down to where his shoulders meet leaving a wet trail. You push and roll your hips down into him savoring the sounds he makes.

“Don’t you miss this baby?” you teased. “Don’t you want to feel your wet pussy? It’s all yours to take, play with, and cum in. I miss your thick, heavy cock. Please play with me. Let me hear you” Peter groans deeply. He whines as you bend down to suck his nipples through his shirt.

“Fuck, baby…. You're gonna make me cum.” Peter cried out. You kiss him deeply and messily, grinding harder into his cock you feel it throbbing and twitching under you. You can feel your own panty wet and drenched, sticking to you.

“Baby, please keep rubbing me….please, please. I'm so close. Let me cum please.” he begged. You suck on his Adam's apple, grinding and moving your hips intensely on his cock.

“Baby, I-” Peter mewled, throwing his head back. You feel him grope your ass forcefully, his hips jerking up in a powerful thrust as he cums. You hear him moan and whimper above you. Peter comes undone intensely, soiling his pants with cum. You smile at his dazed face proudly. You’re both breathing heavily after grinding and jerking on each other. Peter looks down at you smiling goofily.

“I could take a break,” he said. You let out a loud, hearty laugh.

#andrew garfield #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm peter parker #peter parker #tasm!peter x you #andrew garfield!peter parker x you #andrew garfield!spiderman x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm!

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mrshipsmcgee · 1 year

Text

A Lord & A Lady: Part 5

TASM!Peter Parker x (fem)Reader - Bridgerton AU

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Summary: The Duchess and Lord Peter host a pre-wedding celebration. (Third person to get the story moving ;) )

Warnings: mentioning of consumption of alcohol, mentions of poisoning, mentions of a hostage situation

For Katie & Liz

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Standing hidden in the shadows of a second floor window, the Duchess watches on as the indigo sunset sneaks away behind the tree line of her family’s old vacation home - now her home. There she stands, watching on as the people of the Ton flock to her home in their most beautiful dresses and most dashing suits, marveling at the long forgotten spacious estate.

The cobblestone and brick mansion was covered with overgrown ivy - a nuisance to many, but one of the Duchess’ most favorite parts of her home. The long, pebbled entrance to the estate was lined with candlelight and flowers, welcoming eager party guests in for celebration.

Music plays faintly through the halls of the manor, echoing against the walls, along with the chatter from the growing crowd on the main floor of the home.

A calming, raspy voice broke through the noise - “You do not suffer from cold feet, do you, my dear fiancé?”

The Duchess smiles softly to herself before turning towards the voice of her betrothed, who was standing a few steps away from her with a smile spread across his handsome face, adjusting his navy suit just as she glances his way, “Now, my dear Peter - that is an awfully silly question.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle - “Then what on earth is plaguing that beautiful mind of yours, Blue?” His brows furrow inquisitively. “Why are you hiding away from your own engagement ball?”

She bites the inside of her cheek before letting out a sigh - “I am nervous, Peter.” Her shoes click as she steps over to the man, gazing up at him before resting her forehead on his shoulder, letting out another sigh. “I just needed a moment to breathe, I suppose.”

Lord Peter’s warm fingertips move down to the Duchess’ chin, thumb and finger gently urging her gaze upward to meet his warm eyes - “I know that it seems as if the entire Ton will consume you, but I swear I am here to pull you out if they do. You say the word and I will whisk you away to wherever your heart desires,” he pulls her face to his, delicately kissing the tip of her nose before letting out a sharp exhale through his nose, followed by a cheeky grin. “If it brings you peace, you should know that the staff has prepared our favorite foods. I promise, my Bluebell, all of this should be over in just a few hours. The last of our required pleasantries will be over after this evening.”

The small smile on the Duchess’ beautiful face melts into a sorrowful look, biting her inner cheek yet again. “Peter, that isn’t it.. I feel as if something is afoot. Or - or something has gone wrong,” she explains, standing up a little straighter and placing her palm on her gut. “I feel it - deep within me. I feel as if something is watching me… Watching us.”

Peter slightly shakes his head - “It is just you and I, my love. You are safe with me,” he murmurs, his calloused fingertips spreading to cup his hand to her cheek - “No one dare watch you. No one would dare hurt you. If someone were to hurt you, I do not care to think of how I would defend you.. how I would protect you. They should pray a doctor is near if someone were to ever have the thought of harming a single hair on your beautiful head. I will always protect you. I vow it already. Until this day forward..”

He pauses - his opposite hand cups her cheek, bringing her forehead to his, “Only one more day until you are my wife. This party is just one last bump in the road until we are one. You say the word, Your Grace - and I will immediately escort you out to wherever you want.”

The Duchess smiles, shaking off the lurking paranoia in her gut and focusing on Peter’s comforting words.

“Let us go on and get things over with, my dear Peter,” she says, sweetly grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hallways towards the main staircase of the manor. “Peter, do you remember running down these halls in the summers?” She says as she continues to lead him towards the party.

“Anthony Bridgerton chasing us down the hallway wearing a white sheet to appear as a ghost is something I will never forget,” Peter says with a laugh. “He made sure the candles were always blown out and then appeared as the ghost. Mr. Cobblestone?”

“Cobblesworth!” she exclaims, rounding the corner, still pulling Peter behind her, “why on earth Ant thought that was a frightening name, I shall never-“.

“Of course I find the two of you running down the halls like you are mere children,” Lady May’s voice rang out, stopping both Lord Peter and the Duchess in their tracks. She smiles at the couple, nodding her head towards the staircase, “You two are needed downstairs. Your guests are expecting you.”

Lord Peter extends his arm towards the Duchess, holding his wide hand out, “Shall we, my dear fiancé?” He smirks, bouncing his brows at her. A small laugh erupts from the Duchess as she places her gloved hand into his, “We shall, my dear Peter.”

The betrothed step forward towards the top of the grand staircase lined with flowers and glowing lanterns extending down to the crowded dance floor where people began to stop and stare at the beautiful couple descending down the stairs.

“You look absolutely breathtaking,” Peter whispers to his bride. “I feel as if I cannot fathom that this is truly our own engagement ball.”

“I feel as if we are playing make believe, Peter,” the Duchess breathes, glancing his way. “This moment feels like a dream. Are we truly to marry tomorrow? We simply cannot be this old.”

Peter lets out a laugh as they reach the end of the staircase and step onto the marble dance floor, immediately greeted by Lady Danbury and Sarah.

“Lord Peter. Your Grace,” the two women curtsy to the couple.

“Sarah, Lady Danbury,” the Duchess smiles, reaching her hands out to two women. “This is beautiful, beyond my dreams - beautiful. It would not be so without the two of you, and of course - our lovely Lady May.”

May smiles and reaches her hand out to cup the Duchess’ shoulder, “This has truly been our pleasure, Your Grace. I simply cannot believe that tonight is a celebration for the two of you.. you still are those rambunctious children to me. Oh,” she pauses, tears beginning to form in her kind eyes before she quietly clears her throat, “Nevermind me. Tonight is a night for joy. I truly hope the two of you enjoy yourselves greatly.”

Peter clears his throat, gently wrapping his arm around Lady May’s shoulder and placing a tender kiss on her forehead, “oh, how I love you.” He looks down at her and scrunches his nose with a smile - “Though, I am convinced that you want me to shed a tear this evening, Aunt May.”

She lets out a scoffing laugh and touches her pointer finger to the tip of Peter’s nose, “Go, get drinks - enjoy yourselves. Us old hags will be around.”

Peter turns to his betrothed, holding out his hand to her - “My dear Bluebell, would you care for a dance?”

The Duchess smirks up at her fiancé, placing her hand in his - “I truly thought you would never ask, my dear Peter.”

Lord Peter leads his Bluebell through the crowd as the music plays on, pausing as they reach the middle of the dance floor.

The party guests dance around where the couple stands, just feet apart from one another underneath the ornate, candle lit chandelier in the vast ballroom. Peter steps towards his soon to be bride, slightly bowing his head to her - a smile spreading across her beautiful face before she replies with a small curtsy.

Peter reaches his hand out, fingertips gently brushing along the fabric of her gown, bringing her closer to his chest before placing his flat palm onto her lower back. Simply touching the Duchess had Peter nearly breathless, but he proceeds - his vacant hand tenderly wrapping around hers as he guides them, beginning to dance along with the crowd.

“I am so pleased to no longer have to lead us in dancing, Peter,” the Duchess giggles as they dance around the room. “Your foot has not once touched mine. I am impressed, Parker.”

Peter lets out a loud laugh, “I am also no longer shorter than you.. by far.”

“Lord Parker!” Anthony Bridgerton exclaims as he and his wife, Kate, near the couple on the ballroom floor, waltzing towards them with eager smiles.

“In the flesh, Lord Bridgerton! You must be Kate!” Peter speaks over the music. The beautiful woman in Anthony Bridgerton’s arms nods with a small smile, “I am!”

“Ah, well - I give you my sincerest apologies and condolences for having to put up with my dear old mate!” Peter jokes. “It takes a special woman to tolerate Anthony Bridgerton!”

The Duchess lets out a snort and Anthony scoffs, his tone playful as he says - “Peter Parker, I had planned to toast you and your beautiful fiancé, however I shall now refrain from that due to your blatant rudeness!”

“Please, I beg of you! Show me mercy, Lord Bridgerton!” Peter says dramatically as the song ends, “Please, Ant - forgive my unpleasantness and toast me!”

Anthony rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a devilish smile as he claps his hands, “I would like to propose a toast to the beautiful couple!” The crowd silences, turning towards where the four stood in the middle of the dance floor.

The staff hurriedly disperse drinks to the party guests and hosts - most everyone grabbing a beverage from the trays from which they were being served; the Duchess and Lord Peter receiving their drinks hand-delivered.

With drinks in hand the crowd listens on as Lord Anthony Bridgerton speaks, “I have had the pleasure of knowing the soon to be bride and groom since I was a small boy,” he pauses, looking towards Peter and his Bluebell, flashing them a knowing look before he continues, “Actually - I have had the privilege of knowing these two since before I can remember. In fact, we used to play in this very home.” He looks up at the beautiful glass ceiling - the stars still shining brightly down upon him - though the amber glow of the candlestick chandelier illuminated the room. “I believe I can speak for all of us children who got to spend the summers running through these halls and playing make believe when I say that these are hallowed grounds. This home is magic. The family that resided here was magic.”

Anthony looks at the Duchess, his dark eyes so kind - as if he were a boy again as he spoke - “oh, the make believe games we would play.. This home used to be a pirate ship… or - or a mythical castle… and now it is your home, Your Grace; soon to be the home you share with Lord Parker. Hopefully one day, a home where the small patter of feet hitting the floor resides again.”

The crowd is full of sporadic giggles.

Peter and the Duchess look to one another, exchanging loving glances before turning back to Anthony, who continues - “Lord Parker, Your Grace… I pray you have a life filled with immense joy, prosperity - and that you will always and forever share a passionate love for one another.”

Anthony raises his glass, looking around the room and winking at Kate, “Please, raise your glass with me in honor of the beautiful couple.”

The crowd of people raise their glass-filled hands to the sky as Anthony says - “Cheers!”

“Cheers!” The crowd answers in return before taking a sip from their glass, cheering and clapping as the music starts back up.

“Anthony,” the Duchess coos, stepping towards him. “That was absolutely beautiful. Thank you.”

“Ant, you should be in politics the way you commanded that crowd!” Peter quips, poking his fingertips towards Anthony’s ribs, causing him to retaliate with a shoulder to Peter’s - poking him back. “Only if you do it with me!”

“Lady Bridgerton,” the Duchess smiles, stepping towards the striking woman in purple. “It is so lovely to finally meet the woman who stole my mate’s heart.” She scrunches her nose, leaning towards Kate and gently grabbing onto her hand, whispering - “You are far too beautiful for Anthony Bridgerton. Who put you up to this marriage?”

Kate bites her lips between her teeth - trying to contain a smile before letting out a chuckle and squeezing the Duchess’ hand - “Anthony told me you are as humorous as you are beautiful. It is so nice to finally meet you, Your Grace.”

“Ah - formalities…” the Duchess smiles, “Peter has started calling me Blue as of late, and I quite like it. So how about that, Lady Bridgerton?”

“If I call you Blue you shall call me Kate. No more formalities, yes?” Kate replies with a squeeze of her hand before Anthony and Peter approach them.

“Mrs. Bridgerton - we are needed in the drawing room,” Anthony smiles, squeezing Kate’s side - her beautiful face turning into an embarrassed smile just as Peter turns to the Duchess.

Peter’s soft lips brush against her ear as he leans into the Duchess - one arm barely brushing against her waist as he whispers , “We are needed in the foyer - Lady Danbury’s carriage leaves within the half hour. We must see her out.”

“We shall see you onward into the evening,” Anthony says, pulling his wife away from the crowd.

“See you, Bridgerton,” Peter says with a half smile, turning towards the Duchess - his hand urging her towards the main entrance of the mansion.

They walk towards the crowd and into the now quiet entrance of the home, meeting Lady Danbury as she awaits her departure. She stands, gripping her cane just as her carriage pulls up to the open front doors of the manor -, she turns towards the couple, smiling sweetly - “This evening was absolutely beautiful. I will see the two of you tomorrow evening.” She sighs, looking between the couple before she says, “Enjoy the rest of this event. Cherish it, for tomorrow you become husband and wife.”

Just as Lady Danbury steps into the carriage, Peter is pulled away by - “Benedict Bridgerton,” he turns, placing his hand on his friend’s back, “Just the man I was looking for.”

Benedict stops and turns to Peter, his eyes glancing quickly to the Duchess before averting back to Peter, “Lord Parker, Duchess.” He bows before taking a small sip from the glass in his hand, “Thanks for having me.”

The Duchess notices a strange tingling feeling growing on her cheeks, which also feel flush all of the sudden. Benedict and Peter exchange conversation, but their words are far too muffled for the Duchess to understand - and now that she is trying to read their lips she’s realized that her vision has grown blurry too.

She blinks, trying to see a little clearer, just as Peter places his hand on her back - his voice is muffled as he speaks. The Duchess turns to Peter, her vision finally clearing a bit as he says, “Are you okay?”

The Duchess slightly shakes her head, looking dazed and a little frightened before she says, “I - yes, yes - Peter. I believe I may have just had a few too many drinks this evening.” She looks over to Benedict and then back to Peter before she says, “Don’t mind me, you two seemed as if you were in deep conversation - I will go get a breath of fresh air outside and find you later, Peter.” She nods to her friend, “Benedict.”

“Would you like for us to escort you?” Peter says before the Duchess can leave, his honey eyes pierced through her blurred vision - “Are you sure you are alright, my Bluebell?”

“Do not worry about me. Do not spoil your fun with Benedict on my behalf - I shall only be a moment, Peter,” she says before excusing herself.

The Duchess stands yards away from the beautiful mansion - watching on as the blurry silhouettes of party guests dance around the ballroom. Muffled music plays on as she turns towards the babbling, wide creek behind her - one of her most favorite parts of her property. Limestone rock glistens underneath the stream, glinting off of the distant amber glow coming from the bustling manor.

The water seems to sparkle due to the Duchess’ growing dizziness. The chitters of animals and humming of insects from the forest just beyond the creek grow louder, overwhelming her senses.

She falls to the ground with a grunt as her head hits the grass, her vision meeting the blurred starry sky above where she lay.

“There you are, Your Grace,” a voice says from above her as a man appears in her vision.

“Peter?” She moans, barely able to open her eyes. “Something seems to be the matter. I cannot stand.”

A hand reaches down and scoops the Duchess up from the ground and onto her feet, a strong arm wrapping around her waist as her body starts to fail again, her head going limp as she stares up towards the night sky.

“Curare,” the man says, scooping her legs into his arm, cradling her as he continues - “Do you know what Curare is, Your Grace?”

She lets out a small moan, her body completely limp in his arms - her weak eyes fixated on the sky.

“Curare is a paralyzing agent, Your Grace. It’s a poison that weakens your skeletal muscles; too much Curare can cause death,” the man says as the Duchess’ eyes finally meet him.

The tall brute that tried to assault her at the Bridgerton Ball months ago stood with her tired body in his arms. The same man that snuck into her room and hid in her wardrobe for hours hoping to rob her of her innocence, hoping for a scandal to get the Duchess to marry.

“Fredrick,” she whispers, barely able to speak at all.

Her heart races realizing she cannot scream for Peter. She cannot run. There is no escape.

A devilish smile spreads across his face, “Curare comes from a plant boiled and strained into bitter paste. How were your special made drinks this evening, Duchess? Could you notice the bitterness, or are you so innocent and sheltered that you do not know what spirits taste like?”

The Duchess’ eyes are filled with hot tears as she whispers, “Why?”

“Simply? I want your riches, and I truly do not care how I attain them at this point - so you shall come with me and I shall leave this ransom note right here on the grass for your fiancé to find later on in the evening when he cannot locate you,” Sir Fredrick says with a smile. “And who knows what could happen to the poor, defenseless Duchess while Lord Parker tries to locate her?”

The Duchess lets out a small, close-mouthed whimper as Sir Fredrick tosses her over his shoulder and tosses the ransom note to the ground and begins to walk away with the Duchess and into the dark night.

“Bridgerton, I simply cannot do another shot,” Peter yells over the string music and the roaring crowd of party guests. His eyes scan around the room before he turns back to Benedict, “One moment, Ben - I must check on my beautiful fiancé.” He holds up a finger and makes his way to the French doors leading towards the stone path to the creek, recalling seeing the Duchess head that way for a breath of fresh air.

Peter crosses the threshold to the cool night air, carding his hands through his greased locks as he surveys the waterline, not seeing his future bride.. but seeing something on the ground in the distance.

He jogs over without hesitation, nearing the cream-colored paper laying on the grass, his fingertips clasping the page reading the penned note demanding money in exchange for the Duchess’ life.

All of the life leaves Peter’s body as his stomach drops, his throat drying immediately, unable to even swallow as he desperately searches the area for any glimpse of his bride - his best friend.

Tears brim in his frightened eyes as he falls to his knees, gripping the earth beneath him as he tries to keep his composure - though hot tears run down his handsome face, dripping onto his suit.

He turns towards the manor, screaming from the very core of his soul, wailing “Benedict! Ant!” He cries - screaming out for the Duchess before something clicks in his head, something he had only felt once before.

Rage.

——————————

Well, dear Reader - what do you think? I’d love to know. What will happen to the Duchess? Will Peter save her in time? Find out in Part Six!

I hope you enjoyed! Sorry for such a long wait!

- <3 Cait

A Lord & A Lady Taglist: @loserbee14 @fk12b @todaywasafairytale07 @bellestalesoffiction @nayspy @splintered-emotions @dark-night-sky-99 @panic-at-space-camp @dxmerons @jeezlouiisee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @strangerdangerwrites @spiidergirlsworld @softyutae @kas-1 @lovelyweepingrebel

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