peter came in through the window last night ; cw. fluff , established relationship , rom-com cliché's , prompt inspired by the song of the title ; words. 0,6k
author's note ⌇ with the brand new day trailer out i feel like the best thing i could do is comeback with a peter parker blurb even though its tasm!peter lololl anyways feel free to send in some of ur thoughts and requests for himmm
dating new york's infamous spider-man was far from normal. even before that, who knew you would have a spark with the boy you barely acknowledged in high-school? never mind that, who knew he'd be your boyfriend let alone the blue and red vigilante crossing the busy streets? it's a bizarre scenario your thirteen year-old self would've imagined. but hey, you're living it now.
somehow, you'd have to smuggle late night emergencies and early morning absences within your routine. peter would crash by during the most painful hours and yet you showed no complaints, patching him up as you listen to his recent encounters with all kinds of villains, and finishing up with kisses plus takeaway pizza from the shop nearby.
you were used to him entering your room via window all bruised up and muddy, with puppy dog eyes you couldn't imagine saying no to. but of course, being peter parker's girlfriend you wouldn't expect anything less. not when your bed-rotting, music-listening, session was interrupted by obnoxious knocking. peter parker smiled obliviously through your window, mouthing a 'please let me in' whilst giggling internally.
the skies were melting into a dark orange and purple tint, you got up to open the locked latch as peter struggled to find balance. greeted with a kiss on the nose, peter clumsily fell onto the carpet— all existence of his spider-senses seem to vanish into thin air when he's around you. you scoff in disbelief whilst he fixed his hair, peter finally spoke, "don't look at me like that, at least i'm not bleeding onto your carpet like the last four times,"
"five times, actually," you correct him.
he scratches his head, he asked, "you keep count?" in which you nodded. you took the time to study peter, it was a refreshing sight to see as he's correct on one thing, he isn't all bloody. he was wearing the shirt you bought him months ago, layered on top of a long white sleeve top, and it complimented the jeans he was wearing too. you were undeniably in love with him at this moment— peter looked as if he just came out of your favorite 2000s rom-com.
"if you're not all beaten up, why come so suddenly through my window?" you furrowed your brows, peter shrugs ultimately, "i dunno? it's a nice change, and i don't think your doorman likes me anyways," the room lights up alongside his dimples. you gesture peter to join you on the carpet, "mr. stevie? he's the sweetest, what could you possibly do for him not to like you?" he leans onto your head.
"remember when you were sick and i had to buy two huge tubs of soup and deliver it to you personally?" peter questions, you nod slowly, as if you were unsure— "yeah, well, i only gave you one tub, because guess what happened to the other one..."
"oh peter, don't tell me you spilt it—"
"all over his attire, fully coaxed in warm soup."
you slapped the palm of your hand onto your forehead, peter laughed as he fixed the crook of his glasses. the laughter slowly fades into one with the light of the sun setting, the hues mixing harmoniously with you and peter's features. he took a moment to fully embrace your beauty. you did as well— peter's glasses were slightly crooked from all the falling and tripping throughout the months, his hair messy from either the wind outside or his sudden entrance, the shirt hugged him so well you knew the second you gave it it's as if it was made for him.
peter's gaze was locked onto yours, "if you wanted to kiss me, you know you can, right? i didn't come through your window for nothing." his teasing tone made you snap back to reality. the stupid grin on his face grew as you became embarrassingly red.
→ premise: peter needed to test how strong the new formula for his web shooters is so why not get his gf’s help, and have a little fun with it. its not like he had millions of other more scientific ways to test its strength.
→ pairing: tasm!peter x fem!reader
→ warnings: smut | 18+, bondage [with peters webs], fingering, small edging, peter possibly ooc, nicknames [baby, princess]
→ a/n: kinktober 04
Sure Peter had plenty of other ways he could test out the strength of his newly formulated web fluid. But you were just so eager to help your boyfriend out, always asking him if there was something you could do. Sewing up gashes and holes in his spider suit, patching him up after a fight, etc. So why not enlist the help of his pretty girlfriend instead of testing it out the same old boring way he always did. Of course being unaware of his little scheme you innocently and sweetly said yes when he asked if you'd help him out with an experiment. That was how you ended up in Peter's bed, hands restrained together and stuck to the headboard with his webs.
His body was currently nestled between your spread legs, eyes roaming your body before fixing on your face. Your lower half is entirely exposed, the breeze from his open window nipping at your skin making you squirm. “This wasn't what I thought you meant when you asked for help, and I said yes Peter” you whine and buck your hips into his touch as his hands roam up your sides, rubbing and caressing your body. You can feel the cool metal of the singular web shooter strapped to his left wrist. “Oh this is fully what I intended when I asked baby, tug all you want, squirm all you want” he coos as he uncovers your breasts by pushing your shirt up to reveal them. “Need to test how strong the new formula is” he explains softly as his right hand falls between your open thighs, middle and ring fingers nudging open your slit and rubbing through your folds. Slick immediately collecting on the tips of his slender fingers.
With a sharp intake of breath you twist your body and try shifting your hips away from his hands. His free hand that has the web shooter aims towards your writhing leg and shoots webs that wrap your ankle tethering it to his foot board. “You sure this wasn’t what you intended, princess? You're so wet for me” he emphasizes his tease with a tilt of his head, smirking softly as his two fingers push at your hole.
You whine and push your hips back on his hand trying to get them inside you, your hole clenching at the small intrusion. “I missed you Pete, you've been so busy” you explain and look through your lashes at your boyfriend hovering over you, your eyes full of longing and love. “Awww well i'm here now baby” he leans down and presses his lips to yours just as his two fingers push knuckle deep inside you. You let out a short surprised moan against his lips as you kiss back greedily. You tug at the webs around your wrists, hands desperate and itching to touch Peter. “Keep tugging baby, try your hardest, you can do it” he mumbles into your mouth, his words both encouraging and mocking before humming when you whine in response. Goosebumps rise on your skin from the pleasure, his free hand coming to pin your hips down holding them still.
Pumping his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt, a sloppy squelching sound filling the room along with your muffled whimpers and moans. “Fuck!~” you let out a plaintive cry and pull away from peters mouth when his thumb is added in, stimulating your clit. Rubbing small circles on your bundle of nerves as his fingers speed up their movement, making your mouth fall open and your head fall back against his pillows. Your hands tug as well as your leg at his webbing, the action doing nothing to tear or unstick it. A heat spreading through your body, you liked this idea of him tying you up with his webs more than you could’ve guessed, the heat settling and growing in the pit of your stomach.
“Come on baby, i don't think your tryin’ hard enough to break out” he taunts as his long fingers find that spongy spot deep inside you and start abusing it, the rough pad of his tongue speeding up its circles. “Gonna have you cumming before you break the webs princess” he chuckles softly and leans down to kiss along the exposed column of your neck. Your head goes fuzzy from his mouth on you, his fingers ruthlessly thrusting inside you, the feeling of him all over you. “Can’t- I can’t do it Pete, i cant break em’ fuck- please baby im gonna cum!” you whine and cry out, your eyes squeezed shut as you teeter on the edge of your climax.
He grabs ahold of your chin and moves your head up the movement forces your eyes open, you stare into his deep brown eyes, his pupils blown.
“Not yet baby, the experiment hasn't gone on long enough, need to see if they break” his voice comes out sweet yet concedesing as he crashes his lips against yours to muffle your wanton moan.
Truthfully Peter had gotten enough information from all your squirming and pulling that he figured it was strong enough, he was just having far too much fun playing with his pretty girlfriend.
→ a/n: i havent written for tasm!peter in a bit so I feel like he’s possibly out of character ? Idk I felt rusty when writing him
Tasm Peter Parker x Reader where your boyfriend makes it up to you for leaving you high and dry for Spider-Man duties
cw: smut 18+, no y/n, afab reader, praise, touching over clothing, clit play, sickly sweet petnames, dirty talk, teasing, soft!dom peter if you squint
an: haven’t posted in months guys sorry! I’ve got so many drafts but I lose interest quick lmao
୨ :★: ୧
It was a risky decision to entertain, knowing that your boyfriend could swing by your fire scape at any moment. Coming up on finishing with his friendly Spiderman duties for the night, never at a specific time but always near the same hour. Unless some monsterly being wreaks havoc upon the city, of course.
But you just couldn't wait. Peter, being the mean, teasing, cruel boyfriend he is (he adores you and can't help but work you up anytime he gets the chance coz he loves) was kissing you so sweetly just hours ago. Crowded under his frame on the softness of your mattress, strong knee knocked up against your covered cunt and rocking you down in teasing drags. That is until his radio went off and he kissed your parted mouth sweetly in quick apology. With quick dashes around the room he was suited up and slipping out the window in a flash.
He left you panting and sticky, hot ache coiled up tight and your stomach and an incessant thumping of a second heartbeat between your thighs.
At first you felt sour, disgruntled at his quick exit, and then it turned to guilt, knowing he was needed elsewhere to save some civilians who gotten dragged into unessecary danger. You tried distraction, reading a short novel you had picked up recently, and then when your mind wouldn't quiet you turned to the television in the living room. But no matter what you tried and as the hours passed you couldn't get that stupid hot ache to leave you alone.
It was a dire situation, you decided. You were drawn back to your bed, laid on your front with your hand quickly settled between your thighs. Brows furrowed, eyes scrunched tight you stuffed your face into the pillow, muffling soft gasps of pleasure, thinking of Peter and his stupid pretty face all the while.
Then the sound of the window creaking open and soft footsteps dropping against the hardwood. You freeze, hand still trapped between your thighs. The position of your body laid on your front was innocent enough, if he didn't go looking Peter would probably assume sleep dragged you under.
You could hear the sound of him unzipping and dropping his suit to the floor, left in just his boxers. "Bub? You asleep?" Peter whispered, moving to crouch down beside the bed, brushing his hand across the back of your hair. And then his senses hone in, the sound of your erratic heartbeat catching his attention.
You swallow thickly, turning your head on your pillow to face him with hot cheeks. You can't decide if it'd be better to try and move your hand from between your legs now, or just leave it there lest he catches the movement.
He observes your for a second, gaze dragging over you. He spots your arm tucked under your front and his eyes spark, mouth quirking up at the corner. "Oh, baby. Still haven't calmed down yet, huh?' He coos. To the normal ear it would sound affectionate, but you know better. He’s finding your needy state funny.
With an embarrassed huff you turn on your side to face him, hand still trapped between your legs. "S'your fault," you insist, a frown pulling at your mouth. You push your palm into your clit, staring him down to show your upset
His eyes dart at your actions, flashing dark at the unusual show of confidence from you. Smirk softening, his throat bobs as he reaches out to pet your cheek. "I know. I know, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m so mean. Just left you all alone after I wound you up, hmm?" He rises and presses his knee to the bed to climb over you, urging you on your back with a nudge to your hip. He sits back on his heels between your spread legs, rubbing soothing lines up and down your thighs.
You let out a huff of air, chest stuttering and heat coiling renewed at his easy handling of you. Your hand falls to the side of the bed. Though, you continue to pout, determined to convey your disapproval of his quick exit earlier. "M'yeah. You were— you just left me. I’m mad at you."
"Mad, huh? That's alright, sweetness. You can be mad. Know you're upset with me. M'gonna make it up to you, okay?" His eyebrows dip in a way that should look sympathetic, but the patronizing grin tugging ever so at his lips gives away his amusement with your peeved state.
Big hands scoop under your thighs and he drags you towards him until they can rest propped up on his own. He keeps you spread like that while thumb makes quick work of drawing lines up and down your soaked front.
The unexpected burst of pleasure makes your breath quiver and your thighs shake. You want to protest, maybe pat his hands away and insist he's not allowed to touch after leaving you so easily earlier. But, god, do his fingers feel like heaven after hours without anything.
"It's not—" you gasp, "not gonna work."
He leans down to smush open mouthed kisses up your jaw, leading up to your frown and delicately pressing his smile to your lips. Even under your petulance you can’t resist his kisses, allowing him to part your mouth and deepen the kiss in a goal to make you more pliant and relaxed.
Spoiler alert. It works. Like always.
He pulls back to respond to your previous comment. "That's okay, honey. Think what you like. Just gonna make you come quick and like this. Get you stretched out for my cock, yeah? We'll see how you feel then, how about that?" Peter murmurs easily.
You hiccup an embarrassing sound, thighs threatening to twitch closed if it wasn't for his strong palm gripping your thigh to keep you spread open. His thumb starts to work tight circles over you bud, an unrelenting toying that makes your brain fog.
It’s honestly humiliating how easy he can work you up. Before Peter you were never able to come so quick, a few romps here and there left you wanting but too drained and disappointed to even ask for a return of your own pleasure. Even by your own hand you’ve never been able to reach that peak in mere minutes like he can.
Your breath starts to pick up, fast little hitches of air punch from your chest, keen little whining noises you try to suppress if only to try your revenge on Peter’s abandonment.
He eyes you up like you’re something sweet, plainly enjoying the pinch of your brow and slight frown on your lips that keeps slipping into open mouthed pants. Pleasured little noises that has his cock kicking up in his tight boxers.
“Oh, baby,” He coos.
The soaked fabric of your underwear rubbing against your your clit with every swipe and swirl of his deft fingers creates a delicious friction that has you digging your hands into the sheets.
His eyes light up, hungry grin widening. Recognition.“You’re close aren’t you, bug? You gonna come for me, make a little mess?”
That molten ache in your belly tightens. You shake your head no, lips pinched. Embarassed as always about your quickly rising pleasure.
He nods his head in counter, looking awfully pleased. “Yeah you are. You can be mad and still come for me, can’t you? I won’t take it as surrender, promise, baby.”
And then he does something evil. He pinches your clit between his knuckles, punching a breath out of your chest and then rubs the tightest little circles and you’re done for.
The sudden switch in tactic has you tipping over the edge, hard. You come with a sob, a whiny pitchy thing and shudder as that pulsing ache snaps. “Fuck—Peter.” You feel a humming warmth spread down your hips and to the tips of your toes. Body wound so tight and basking in the onslaught of pleasure.
“Oh, pretty baby. So gorgeous coming for me, aren’t you? So good for me.” He murmurs sweet praises. You can feel his adoring gaze traveling over your pleasured expression.
He leans down to press soft kisses to your parted mouth as he continues to rub at your sticky panties, forcing you to ride out your high until your legs twitch and thighs force inwards from overstimulation. Only then does he give you reprieve. His hands come up to cup your cheeks, kissing sweetly over your hot face.
“God you’re fucking unreal, you know that? I’ll never get enough of seeing you like this, bub. Never. I’m damned when it comes to you, little gremlin.”
You can’t help but let out a weak giggle. “So I get sweetness for two seconds and then I’m gremlin? Best boyfriend ever,” you deadpan.
Peter pulls back an inch to meet your gaze, eyes eclipse by black, rubbing the tip of his nose against your own. “Yeah, well your best boyfriend got you all nice and sticky for his fingers. Gonna stretch you open and get you ready for my cock. What do you think about that?”
“Yeah.” Your answer is immediate, breathy with want.
He chuckles, kissing the tip of your nose. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, gremlin.”
word count: idk, i wrote this in 20 mins on here and it’s not proof read
warnings: smut ofc, p in v, praises, pet names, sex tape made, swearing, kissing yada yada
i hope you enjoy this, it would not leave my mind, i had to write it- i’m so sorry if it’s messy and there’s mistakes :):
“i’m nervous pete..” you giggled softly, watching as he propped up his phone on his dresser- across from where you lay in the sheets. “oh baby there’s nothing to be nervous about, you’re such a natural. don’t you wanna show the world what a pretty girl you are?” he smirked, pressing the little red button on his screen. you watched yourself in the frame, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, resting up on an elbow. “you’re silly.”
“do you really not wanna do it baby? we can stop at anytime, i promise. just wanna make you comfortable.” he murmured gentle as he walked over to you, his large body towering over yours, covering you from the camera. you peered up at him with those doe eyes that drove him wild, his hand slipping down to cup your cheek, stoking your skin softly.
“no, no i want to. youre sure i’ll be okay?”
“i promise baby. don’t even worry about the camera okay? just focus on me.” you nodded, pushing yourself up to sit as he kneeled on the bed, lifting your pj shirt over your raised arms.
“such a pretty girl. you’re a movie star.” he whispered, staring down at you in awe, as if you were an angel who had blessed the earth with your presence. as if he hadn’t seen you naked a million times. your cheeks heated under his hungry gaze.
“m’not, you’re the film director… you know more than me.” you giggled, your words sealed with a soft kiss upon your lips, tasting of fresh mint. you fell back into the pillows, his lips never leaving yours as his strong arms engulfed you, shielding you from the outside world.
“yeah, eyes on me. it’s just you and me baby okay? gonna make you feel so good, just how you like it.” he praised, kiss trailing down to your neck, giving a little nip at the exposed flesh as you withered under him.
“mmm pete-“ you trailed off with a sigh as lips kissed your breasts, teeth grazing and nipping your nipples as he teased you. your hips bucked as his hands explored down past your mid drift, tugging off your sleep shorts. “we can’t get too crazy on the first video now can we?” he smirked, eyebrow raising as his knee slid up, pushing your legs wide open.
“m-more?” you asked. “hmm, some for my own personal collection. ya know, when you’re away and i’m all alone, missing you, with my hand wrapped around my cock…” he hummed, his dirty words making you groan.
“you’re so bad.”
“and you’re so pretty. pretty and wet f’me.” he tsked, his cock brushing past your folds.
“don’t tease.”
“don’t tell me what to do love.” he whispered, tossing your legs over each shoulder, making you yelp in surprise. he slid home, filling you right to the brim. you moaned, back arched and toes curled at the feeling.
“baby- fuck this never gets old. this pretty pussy never-“ he slid out, thrusting back in firmly. “-ever gets old. so-fuckin-tight.” your eyes widened, meeting his as he fucked you deeper into the mattress.
“gimme a kiss baby.” you obeyed, hands cupping his cheeks, teeth clashing as your lips meshed with his. not once did his pace falter. you moaned into his mouth, crying at the pleasure.
“yeah fuck baby. you do make a pretty picture.” he groaned, breaking the kiss to look over at his phone, watching the way he contoured you.
for you, peter is the literally definition of pretty. his big brown puppy eyes and his perfectly structured face, his lean but muscular built, his cute little pout when you don’t give him a kiss before he goes patrolling.
he is just so so very pretty.
you don't know know how long you have been staring at him for, but he didn't seem to notice. too busy focusing on his science project, and his concentration is very hot.
his long slender fingers moving carefully and slowly to put the pieces together and your attention only zeroed on them. such, such pretty hands.
the weight of your stare was starting to make peter nervous. peter gets flustered very easily. and with you? you didn't even have to try.
peter suddenly put down the components for his project and turned to you, “i know i'm hot but can you please stop staring at me like that?” he mumbled, as a soft blush appear on his face. his tone was confident but you can sense his nervousness.
he tried focusing on his project again as you chuckled, the kind of chuckle that sends tingles all over peter's body, “sorry pete, but you are just so very pretty.”
wow. okay he didn't expect that.
peter chocked on his saliva, his body hot all over, nearly dropping the pieces of his homework.
“baby, you can't just say things like that.” he looked at you, eyes wide and soft. and it makes you grin.
“it's the truth.” you shrugged, “you're my pretty boy.” you know you're testing his limits, but it was fun teasing peter.
peter's mind malfunctioned. he's trying to ignore you, but the way you said my pretty boy is replaying over and over in his head.
“damn it.” he quietly swore, putting down whatever left of his project and turning to you.
your eyebrows rose in a teasing manner as a smirk finds its way to your face. “what?” you innocently asked, but you know exactly what you're doing, and he knows it too.
peter chuckled as he walks to where your laying at the bed. the sound send a shiver up your spine and now you're the one who's nervous.
he leaned closer to you, you could feel his breath on your lips as you both took a moment to admire each other. peter was staring at your eyes to your nose and your soft lips, bringing his eyes to connect with yours again and you could feel your stomach doing flips.
“and you're my pretty baby.” he whispered softly before cutting off a whine that rose up your throat with his lips.
his lips were a little chapped, but it fits your perfectly. your hands move to tangle on his hair, giving it a little pull making peter groan into the kiss. he leaned back, his warm hands move to find comfort on your waist as he brings you onto his lap.
peter felt like his heart was about to burst. every single sense of his is override and all he can focus on is you. you. you.
Summary: On your way back home from a bookstore, some idiots harass you. Spider-man steps in. *Unrevealed identity.*
wc [1.2k]
pairing: tasm!spiderman x f!reader
+ more peter
No matter how many unread books you had in your apartment, stacked on your shelves, on the floor, in your bag— it never seemed to appease the little voice in your head. “Get another. Oh, hey— you’ve been wanting to read this one.”
Eyes narrowing at the spine of the paperback, you willed yourself to leave the little bookstore that was tucked away in the many old brownstones huddling the city. That was the beauty of New York. There always seemed to be more undiscovered shops to explore. More money to spend. You should really use your library card more often.,
“Fuck it.” Muttering under your breath, you snatch the novel, trying to ignore the instant shot of dopamine hitting your brain.
...
“$8.99.”
You pay for the book, which now looking at the price— it’s a good deal. It’s used but in good condition. Shoving your change and book into your brown tote, you push open the glass door with your other gloved palm, the little bell dinging on your way out. Your boots click against concentrate, the hems of your pant legs wet from the rain puddles. The way home isn’t a long one, maybe a 10 minute walk, but you enjoy it. It’s a nice breather from being at work, and the stress of final projects and exams. Though not exactly a quiet walk, the sound of nearby construction, chatter, and traffic had become white noise. You liked your little ritual.
“Hey! Yeah, you— black coat.”
More focused on looking ahead of you, it didn’t occur to you that someone was trying to get your attention.
“Where you headed, tight jeans?”
The crass, cringe-worthy comment made you glance behind yourself. A guy who looked around your age with dirty blonde hair and two other guys followed behind him.
Hell no.. why do they always travel in packs?
What appeared to be college guys clad in puffer jackets, and whistling at you, obnoxiously trying to get your attention. It’s not the first time you’ve been catcalled (having been so used to walking every where. times like these, you wish you had a car.) but each time it happens you half expect it do be a homeless guy asking for crack or for whoever it is to leave you alone right after. The guys behind you seem to be walking towards you. So much for wearing headphones.
“Aw come on, you’re not gonna say hi to my friend? He thinks you’re cute.” The blonde haired guy catches up, walking backwards, hands stuffed in his pockets as he talks to you.
You shake your head, an uninterested look on your face.
“Woah woah, come on. Yo! She said she’d give you her number.” He laughs, calling over his other two friends as they begin to approach.
They seem.. harmless, you think- but you can’t help getting anxious. Adrenaline making your hands feelshaky from the prolonged encounter. Just give them a fake number or speak in a different language. Fuck. You hate this feeling. You hate that when in moments it matters most, you freeze up. Just say no. You already did, you’re clearly not interested— you’re literally walking away. Why the hell are they even talking to you? Frustration starts to eat up whatever embarrassment you were feeling. Speak.
Before you get a word out the guy reaches forward, pulling out your ear bud. Alright, fuck this guy.
"Hey, I'm talking to you." A dumb smile was on this dude's face as if he had no sense of your personal space and boundaries. Like he could just continue to talk to you or do whatever he'd like, not finding your "no" a means to stop.
Just as you’re about to tell him off, the guy trips over his own feet, falling backwards.
“What was that? I couldn’t quite catch that?”
You whip your head behind you expecting to see another one of this loser's friends but it’s- well shit. Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.
He raises a gloved hand next to his ear pretending he couldn't hear what the guy said. He flicks out his wrist, a web shooting out onto the man’s mouth, shutting him up before he can speak. And then another, the man’s ankles bound making him trip over. You almost step on him as he wiggles around on the floor.
The other guys friend, a red-head, stares wide eyed slowly raising his hands. "Woah, man. We're just talking-"
Another web, restraining the other’s hands and mouth.
“Oh! so we’re harassing women now, huh? Not another peep outta you.” Thwik.
Before the shorter one can walk off like it was nothing, Spiderman shoots a web seemingly lassoing him and doing that little backwards kick soccer players do, to trip him.
“Don’t try it.”
“You know bottom of the pit, low life idiots like you usually have the smallest dicks ever! Your parents ever teach you manners?” He flicks the guys forehead, shooting another web at his pants, yanking them down.
“Uh oh!” He effortlessly ties a web around the guy and attaches the sticky rope to another, tugging on it, sending the other guy up and over also hanging on a lamppost.
“Dumb, dumb and..” His masked head turns slowly
“Dumber.” He looks over at the blonde still wiggling around on the floor. So now he's embarrassed.
He taunts the guy zipping webs around him until his cocooned, flicking another web to a streetlamp, securely attaching him. He slings another web-line, hoisting him up to dangle from the metal pole. The webs covering his mouth muffle his scream.
He crosses his arms looking back at his handiwork, the 3 idiots currently being swung upside down. He zeros in on the guy that couldn't take no for an answer.
“Hey, I recognize you. Yeah you come here,” he tugs on the web making the guy swing back and forth, the guy screams behind the makeshift gag.
“You’re on the hockey team at ESU right? I’ve seen you in the papers. Tough guy.” his fists bumps his chest firmly.
“Here how about you and I play a game.” The whites of his mask seem to squint and focus on him- he lowers his voice.
“How about you try dodging me cause the next time I see you…” he doesn’t finish the sentence, roughly pushing the guy back for one last swing.
“Woah, be careful there Luke. Yeah, I know who you are.” Then he finally turns to face you, jogging up to where you stand. You wonder how long they’ll stay up there swinging around in the breeze. Not that you care, they deserve it.
“Here! Let me help you with that,” he extends a hand, offering to help you carry your bag and umbrella.
From then on, whenever he’d see those three idiots around campus, in the halls or out and about— he’d made it a personal mission to make their lives a little more difficult. They didn’t get to treat women like that. Nuh uh, no way. Not on his watch, especially not his future girl. Okay, maybe you didn’t know it was him behind the mask, or were his girlfriend, but one day you would be! Whenever he'd build up the courage to ask you on a date that is. He's still figuring out all the details wanting it to be super special and romantic. Sure, he might be getting a little ahead of himself, but he can't help wanting to impress you. You have him wrapped around your fingertips just like that. Until then, he'd just keep an eye on you. An appropriate, respectful distance, that wasn’t stalkerish at all.
..Sometimes.
Some may call it “stalking,” others might say guardian spider angel.
private #5 bent over a table while somethings baking in the oven. is it too much to ask for tasm peter parker bending reader over?
[location based smut prompts]
The To-Do List
[tasm peter x fem!reader]
(reader is described as having a ponytail that is long enough for Peter to wrap around his hand and use as leverage)
His birthday cake was nestled happily inside the heated oven.
She got up early to make it for his special day. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face while she had prepped and she was still in her pajamas from this morning. She had planned to have the cake in the oven, get her shower done, and place out his presents on the table all before he woke up.
Peter, of course, had other ideas.
He leaned against the kitchen doorway with a lopsided grin as he sleepily took in the sight of her. She paused when she saw him there, silent as ever, and crossed her arms.
“You are not supposed to be awake for another hour,” she chastised.
Thirty-five looked good on him. Every year he seemed to get more and more handsome.
His eye wrinkles grew as his smile widened. A strand of dark hair fell down his forehead and he absentmindedly brushed it away. He was shirtless with nothing but a pair of dark boxers to keep him decent.
She admired how defined his chest was. A hinting of his six pack was peeking out from just under the surface of his lean body.
“I smelled cake.” His voice was thick and scratchy with lingering sleep. Peter’s morning voice was one the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard.
She smiled as she rolled her eyes. It had hardly been in the oven for more than five minutes and it was already enough to get him out of bed.
“The kitchen is a mess. I was going to clean it all up and have your presents out and I was going to be all dressed up and looking extra cute. You ruined it all with your stupid nose.”
Peter laughed as he strode across the room to slip his arms around her waist. She looked up to admire him and wiped at a staining of toothpaste still clinging to the side of his lips. She caught it with her thumb and shoved it back into his mouth while he licked it off.
“You already look extra cute,” he mumbled around her thumb.
“I’m literally wearing your old, hole filled shirt and bright pink fluffy pants. This is not how I wanted you to see me this morning. It’s your birthday. I wanted it to be special.” She tugged her thumb back with a huff.
Peter stepped back to appreciate her outfit in the morning light. She had already been in bed by the time he crawled through their window last night.
“I like it,” he stated. “It’s hipster.”
She let out a laugh in response, “I don’t think you know what hipster means, babe.”
Peter shrugged, “It means you dress like a bum, right?”
“Oh my god, why don’t you go back to bed and try this again in an hour when everything is all set up, okay?”
“No,” he whined. He latched himself onto her back, snaking his arms tightly around her stomach to press her against him. “I’m up. It’s my birthday. Say happy birthday to me and tell me you love me.”
She grinned, snuggling back against his bare chest, “Happy birthday and I love you.”
“That sounded insincere but I will take it.” His hand slipped up under her loose shirt to cup a warm hand over her breast, lazily palming it while he nibbled at the edge of her ear. He always liked the feeling of her nipple coming to life and growing harder against his hand. He held onto her chest like one might cling to the safety of a favorite stuffed animal.
She groaned, “Your presents were supposed to be all set out nicely on the table. Instead you’re just greeted with a kitchen disaster of my cake baking. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep for another hour? I know you’re tired from last night. You were out late.”
Peter began to slowly waddle them back and forth towards the kitchen table, refusing to release his grip from around her waist or remove his hand from her breast, “I know of a present I can unwrap right here…”
She gasped under her breath, “Peter. This is no time. I’ve got a list of things to do.”
She felt him laugh quietly against her ear.
“Yeah and I’ve got a list of things to do, too. A whole list. Let’s see what the first thing to do is…” he pretended like he was reading off an imaginary piece of paper as he checked it over. “Ah, yes!”
He slipped his hands out from her shirt and placed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the kitchen table. With a quick swoop, he tugged down both her pants and underwear, leaving them hanging around her ankles. She let out a shocked cry.
“Unwrap presents…check!” He chuckled to himself, giving her bare ass a soft slap. “And what a beautiful present it is. Couldn’t have asked for anything better. Wow, you really know me, baby, I’m super impressed.”
“Peter,” she whined, pushing herself back up. “Not fair. I haven’t showered. I’ve got to get ready. I’ve-”
He cut her off with a kiss. His lips crashed against her and his tongue forced its way into her mouth to stop her from trying to protest further. She could taste the mint from his toothpaste still clinging to his tongue and she moaned as he pressed his hips into hers. He was growing harder by the second.
“Shut up,” he mumbled against her lips with a smile. “My birthday. My rules.”
“Okay,” she said with a dreamy sigh. It wasn’t hard to convince her. Her complaints were more for show than anything else. If Peter wanted her, he had her. “I love you, Pete.”
“If you love me so much then why don’t you take off that shirt so I can see my second present.”
She did as she was told, stripping it from her body, until she was standing naked before him. The bulge in his boxers twitched which made her smile. She loved the fact that she could make him so hard from sight alone.
Peter’s hand reached out to brush a calloused thumb across her hardened nipple, “Beautiful.”
He lifted her up onto the table so she was sitting closer to him and he moved between her legs. They wrapped around him so she could feel the heat of him soaking through his boxers and against her pussy. His eyes traveled down to her chest, taking in the sight, and sighing happily. His head dipped down so he could capture the waiting bud between his wet lips.
She let out a satisfied moan and ran her fingers through the back of his hair while suckled on her. His tongue bathed her breast, teeth nipping at her nipple, and soothing it over with quick kisses and light sucking motions. His mouth was magic. He didn’t even need to touch her pussy for her to already be soaking through his boxers as she ground against him.
“Feel that?” He groaned, bucking his hips. “Feel how hard I am?”
She whimpered.
“All for you,” he whispered, finding her lips once more to kiss her deeply.
All for her.
It was his birthday. She should probably be getting down on his knees for him and sucking him off or tending to him in some way but she was nothing but putty in his hands. Lost in the feeling of seduction he was casting over her.
Peter dragged her down off the table, smirking at the wet spot she had left behind, and spun her around. He folded her back in half over the table, scraping his nails down the length of her spine and over the swell of her ass.
“The next thing on my to-do list,” he breathed, his voice low and deep. “Is you.”
She heard him discarding his boxers and suddenly felt the wet, hot tip of cock slide up her open folds. She was more than ready for him. He never had to do much to have her begging for more. Her hips grinded against the air as if trying to draw him in closer but he only continued to tease her with the tip.
“Someone’s eager,” he commended, giving her ass another slap.
“Peter, please,” she gasped.
He kept up his tantalizing torture. Every time his cock bumped over her aching clit, her hips would jerk backwards, and she’d let out a quiet cry.
“Please what?” He asked with an air of innocence.
She groaned at his teasing, “Please fuck me! I want you to fuck me.”
“Aww,” he cooed. “Does my poor baby need my cock?”
She whined and nodded.
“You got up so early, didn’t you?” His nails dragged along her hips, making her squirm, as she humped frantically in an attempt to get at his cock. “You got up early to make my birthday so special. You baked me a cake. It smells amazing, doesn’t it? Smell it, baby.”
Her eyes widened in frustration, “Peter! Fuck me! Please, stop it.”
He ignored her pleas, getting off of them, as his cock twitched between her thighs, “Did you slip that cake into the oven just for me?”
She was nearly sobbing from her own arousal, ready to attack him if he didn’t shut up and fuck her soon. She arched her back to better entice him, wagging her ass and rubbing it against his hips. She pushed herself up with her arms so he could get a peeking view of her tits swaying in wait for him.
That seemed to do the trick because he had gone silent as he stared.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Happy birthday to me.”
“I want it hard, Peter. Use me,” she whispered in an effort to finally push him over the edge. “I’m yours.”
He lined up his cock to her entrance and eased himself inside. She nearly doubled over against the table at the delicious feeling that flooded through her body.
“Yes, yes, thank you, baby, thank you,” she cried.
“You really love this cock, don’t you?” He breathed. “Do you love this cock more than me?”
“No, baby, never. I could never-”
He pulled out and rammed the full, thick length back into her with a loud slap.
She shrieked, falling forward into a flurry of mumbled moans, “I do, I do, I do. I love it more than you. I love it more than anything.” Tears pricked in her eyes from the overwhelming sensations taking over.
Peter chuckled to himself, “That’s my girl.”
Her ass slapped against his body with each plunging drive of his cock as he took her. Fast and hard, just like she asked. Every thrust felt like it was reverberating through her, waking up all her senses, making her feel more alive than ever before. It was sheer bliss. Anticipation already began to build. He knew exactly how hard to take her. Peter could be rough but he never went past her limits. He knew her inside and out. He knew just where to push her before retreating back to safety. The sounds of her tumbling moans and each inhale of breath was all he needed to direct his path.
He was filling her body, stretching her, taking her, building her up to that beautiful place of divinity. Her nails clawed at the table, scratching at the wood, trying to find some kind of purchase to steady herself with.
He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and jerked her head upwards. She arched her back to accommodate the move as he held her against him. She could feel his ragged breaths against her cheek and listened to his erotic panting in her ear. The sound was enough to almost send her flying straight into an orgasm.
The hand not keeping a tight hold of her ponytail wrapped around her to grab at her chest. He molded her breast between strong hands.
She loved taking his cock. Loved it so deep. Thrusting. Hard. Stretching her. Forcing her to take him. Peter was thick. Thickest man she had ever been with. He pushed her walls to their max. His beautiful body and the sounds he made when he fucked her where like heaven to her ears.
That familiar, sensual pressure began to grow inside of her with shallow waves lapping at the edges of her mind. Soon they would turn into giant swells. Taking her over until it was all she could feel.
His hand slipped from her ponytail to wrap around her neck. He gave a gentle squeeze. Nothing too forceful but enough to send her flying even faster towards that tsunami of pleasure. She was so close. So ready.
“Harder, Peter,” she sobbed. “Hard. Please. I’m-I’m…close…need it hard. Take me.”
Peter was never to deny a request like that. He shoved her back over the table and tumbled on top of her, humping frantically with long, heavy strokes into her cunt. He could feel her walls tightening. He could feel her body changing.
“Come on, baby,” he urged her. “Cum on my cock. Cum for me. Let me feel you.”
The universe exploded into blinding light.
She didn’t care how loud she was. Didn’t care if the neighbors would hear. In fact, she wanted them to. She wanted them to know exactly how well Peter Parker could fuck his woman.
Her toes curled and her legs kicked up as the sensory overload rocketed through her with golden waves of pure dopamine.
Peter took her straight to the edge and held her there, spasming and sobbing, as he continued to fuck her through the orgasm. Even as the waves slowly receded, they still lingered in tiny aftershocks, due to his relentless pounding. He had gotten her where she needed to be and now it was his turn.
He reangled himself into her, getting a better grip as he held onto her hips, and switched up his rhythm to slow. Peter liked to feel everything. He wanted to drag it out and feel her body wrapped around him. From fast and hard to slow and steady. His change of pace caused a low, drawn out moan to escape from her throat.
“You like that, baby?” He panted. “You like feeling every inch of me?”
All she could do was whimper in response as her sex spasmed again around him. This was a man who knew how to lengthen an orgasm. She was completely helpless to him. Her body was his play thing.
“Let me hear how much you love me, baby,” he whispered down in her ear as his cock buried straight to the hilt inside of her. “Let me hear you.”
She struggled to make any noise besides sobbing whimpers and broken cries.
He moaned in response, “That’s it. Those are those sounds that I love so much. My poor baby, all ravaged on my cock. Can’t even speak.”
He gave a small shudder and she knew he was close. She did her best to work her hips to meet his thrusts, squeezing him with her walls, sucking him in, clenching down.
“That’s good, baby, that’s good.” He moaned, his voice slowly losing itself as he got closer to the edge. “Ooh, fuck, keep that up. ‘M gon’na cum inside ya’kay?”
She loved it when he filled her. She loved feeling him drip down her leg as she carried him around with her. She would bathe in his semen if he wished it. It was his birthday, after all. The birthday boy could come wherever he pleased.
His long, slow strokes worked her up as another, tiny orgasm rippled through her. That seemed to be all he needed to follow.
Peter let out a low groan, his thrusts become more unrestrained with each passing second, and she took him. All of him.
With the sweetest of cries, he emptied himself inside of her. She could feel him swell and pulse until she was impossibly full. That tiny orgasm grew into something much bigger, taking over her body along with him, as she felt him collapse on top of her, both shaking, as he bit at her shoulders with soft, love bites until he finally calmed down.
He stayed like that, laid against her back and squishing her into the table, until he cock began to soften and he sadly slid back out. She tumbled back into his arms as they both fell to the spooning position against the kitchen floor. Naked, wet, and breathing heavily.
Peter’s hand found the comfort of her breast once more.
“Mmm,” he hummed. “Best present I could ask for. Thank you, baby. You’re too good to me.”
She grunted in response, still finding words to fail her. Instead, she rolled over in his arms, hooking her leg through his, and leaving a trail of kisses across his face to show much she adored him.
His eyes closed as he smiled happily at the feeling.
Eventually she would have to get up. Eventually she would have to shower and get dressed and clean the kitchen and set up his presents and frost the cake…but for now…
For now she was happy to just lay here on the floor in his arms.
A/N: Just a take on what the spider sense could encompass! I just thought it would be really cute to explore if Peter could feel when you’re going through it emotionally. 🩷
You had been with Peter long enough to be used to the whole Spider-Man thing, but “used to” and “okay with” were not the same on this particular night. He hadn’t been gone long at all, and you already missed him so much. It didn’t help that you were PMSing and apt to cry over absolutely anything, so the sooner he was safely tucked into bed next to you, the better. You tried to imagine what it would feel like to fall asleep in his arms….
Sighing, you got out of bed and started pacing around your darkened bedroom. A few tears trickled down your cheeks, and you brushed them away angrily. You hated this desperate, needy feeling. Why was it okay for a woman to be “desperate” for someone sexually, but not emotionally? Sex was great and all, but you just wanted to feel loved and cared for. To have the man you loved wrap his arms around you and nuzzle into your neck as the big spoon while you drifted off to sleep.
You were sitting on the edge of your bed, crying, when you heard three light knocks on the window—Peter’s signal that he was about to come in. You ran to open the window, but he beat you to it. “Hey!” He smiled and climbed through. He didn’t sound surprised to see you up and about at 2 AM.
You turned away to wipe your eyes before his heightened vision could clock your tears. “What are you doing back so soon?” All you’d wanted was for him to come home, and now that he was here, it was like you were too scared to go to him. Like you would dissolve if he actually touched you.
Peter set his Spider-Man mask on the desk and slowly approached. “Hey.” His voice was softer now, more tender. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You shook your head as you felt yourself well up with tears again. You backed up into the wall. Peter touched your damp cheek, his eyes worried.
“It’s just embarrassing,” you whispered.
“Oh, okay. Then I definitely want to hear it,” he stage-whispered back, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You smiled in spite of yourself. “I, ah…” You sighed and leaned your forehead against his chest. “I just really missed you. And my anxiety is up, so I was just lying in bed, worrying about you. Annnd now pacing and worrying about you.”
Peter kissed the top of your head. You could hear the soft, rhythmic thud of his heartbeat, and it soothed your soul. He was here. He was real, he was okay. You clung to him, melting into his body.
“I missed you too.”
“Is that why you’re back so soon?” You teased him.
“Uh, y-yeah!”
You looked at him.
“What?”
“Why did you say it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like this is the first human conversation you’ve ever had.” That stuttery tone was usually a tell that he was lying—or at least not telling the whole truth. Then you realized. You swatted his chest, happy tears now filling your eyes. “You knew.”
“Knew what?” He said coyly.
“You knew I was getting more and more sad and anxious. You could sense it, couldn’t you?”
He smiled and snuggled you against his body again. “Never underestimate the heightened senses.”
“Yeah, but you’re supposed to be out helping people, though,” you whined while simultaneously squeezing the life out of him.
“Helping you doesn’t count? I’d say that’s the most important thing I could be doing!”
