Summary: Peter brings a lab coat home one day. It gives you an idea. How could you pass up a chance to drive him wild?
Warnings: afab!reader, oral (fem receiving), lots of bad chemistry puns, penetrative unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), did I say bad chemistry puns already? This went from smut to fluff to humor at the end.
“Welcome home Mr. Parker,” You said upon your fiancé entering the apartment you and him shared. He put down his bag (full of papers) and gave you that small, forced smile that instantly told you it had been a long day.
“Long Friday?” You asked, taking your attention away from the stove.
“Oh you know, the usual. Did you know you can say to your students “this material is corrosive; it will burn through fabric’ ten times and they’re still shocked when it burns a hole through their lab coat?” He held up the lab coat, which had a small but noticeable hole in it.
“I’m sorry babe.“
“It’ll be an easy fix. Besides, I should start washing these regularly. I forgot how bad teenage B.O. is,” He said, throwing it over the chair. He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Whatcha making sunshine?” He asked, his breath hot on your neck.
“Just some salmon cakes.” This was your routine- Peter would come home and wrap his arms around you, whether you were watching TV or cooking dinner.
“I missed you,” He murmured into your neck.
“I missed you too my love,” You said, flipping the salmon cakes so one side wasn’t burned.
Your eyes darted to the table, landing on the lab coat.
An idea popped into your head.
A different idea. A spicy idea. An idea that made you inadvertently squeeze your thighs together.
Noticing Peter’s outburst at school shortly after the death of his Uncle Ben, you decide to introduce him to the local boxing gym.
When you saw Peter Parker’s head resting on his locker, his signature goofy smile muted, you knew something was wrong. The brightest geek in the class was usually a ray of sunshine; today, it looked like his light had been sucked into a black hole. You resisted the urge to reach out to him, having heard the grave news of his Uncle Ben dying in his arms. When you lost someone close to you, you didn’t care about the well wishes or sympathetic looks. All you wanted was your loved one back. So you held back, watching his pain from afar.
You were collecting your books from your locker as the halls fell silent. A crash of a body hitting the metal. Spinning around you saw Flash pressed against the locker, Peter’s hands tightly holding him there. You didn’t need to see his face to see the empty fury lurking in his features.
Feeling as if you were intruding on something, you turned away. The crowd dissipated as quickly as it had formed. Peter eventually released his grip on Flash, him scurrying away as quickly as he could.
It was clear Peter was in pain. You felt that pain before. You barely spoke to the boy but you felt the tie of grief bind you together. An urge to help him took over your body. Turning on your heel you went back to your locker, snatching a flyer. Before you could think too much about it you slipped it between the slats of Peter’s locker.
~
You didn’t see him that night, or the next. Each time you kept an eye on the door, waiting anxiously for him to step onto the premises. Weeks passed and eventually, you stopped checking.
Brett clapped you on the shoulder. “Y/N! Can you show the rookie around? I’ve got a class in ten.”
“Sure,” you didn’t even look up from the computer, too busy deciding on what playlist would bounce through the walls of the gym.
Someone cleared their throat. You looked up, nearly falling out of your chair. It was Peter.
A bright smile lit up your face. “Sorry about that, in my own world.”
“It’s okay.” He seemed better than that day in the hall; not by much.
You randomly selected a playlist, shuffling out of the seat and moving to show him the rest of the gym. “Have you ever boxed before?”
“I… This isn’t normally my kind of thing.”
“You’d be surprised, a lot of people tend to think that. Next thing you know, they’re hooked.” You paused. “Sorry, that was a bad boxing pun, even I’m ashamed.”
Peter stared at you with a blank face.
“You know, hooked like a right hook? Nevermind.”
Clearing your throat, a niggle of doubt set in at the back of your mind. Why did you slip him the flyer? There was no point dwelling on it now, he was here and he was clearly interested, his eyes raking the large space with intrigue.
You pointed to the treadmills lining one wall. “That’s your treadmills, good for keeping up cardio. Hop on and I’ll show you how it works.”
“I’m more interested in the,” Peter cleared his throat, almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it out loud. “Hitting part.”
“You’d be shocked how tiring boxing can be. You need a good level of fitness, but” you shrugged, turning your back to the treadmills. “On your head be it. If you go running to Brett because you flew off the treadmill let him know I warned you.”
You swore you could see the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I’ll do that.”
“Over here are the bags. Please, for the love of god, make sure you have wrapped your hands correctly and wear gloves.” You grabbed some hand wrappings from the side. You showed him how to wind the wrappings correctly around the hand to ensure maximum protection. “You can just use the gloves or the wrapping on their own, but it’s just safer this way.”
Peter nodded. You unwound the wrappings from your hand, placing it securely on the side before moving towards the large boxing ring in the middle of the gym. Grabbing a hold of the rope surrounding the ring, you leaned your weight into it.
“This is the ring. We do a lot of our one on one training sessions there.”
“What are they like?”
“Brutal.” You huffed a laugh. “They cost extra, but if you have a problem paying, speak to Brett. He’s pretty good about that kind of thing.”
Peter’s eyes fell to the floor. Any enthusiasm you had seen from him earlier had evaporated, his posture deflating like a balloon. “I don’t exactly have a lot of money.”
You smiled, gesturing to the people dotted around the gym. “Do you think they do? Most of us do things to help him out instead. I run the front desk after school, Stacey manages the socials and Jackson cleans the gym after hours.”
“That’s really nice of him.” Peter perked up a bit, lifting his eyes from the floor.
“He’s a good guy.” A beat of silence passed, then two. “Or if you wanted, you could train with me.”
You wanted to draw the words back into your mouth; it was too late. Peter’s face lit up, and his lips moved to the closest thing resembling a smile. “Really?”
“Uh, I’m nowhere near as good as Brett, but maybe I could help you start off.”
“I’d really like that.” Peter shook his head vigorously. “Good, cool, that’s amazing, thank you.”
“Great, I’ll add you to the group chat. It just has some updates on the gym, that kind of thing.” Peter’s phone binged. He looked at the screen, a notification having popped up.
Peter P has been added to Brett’s Boxing Bitches.
“Brett’s Boxing Bitches?”
“Don’t tell Brett.”
~
It had been a few weeks since you’d offered to train Peter. You were half convinced he was trying to kill you. Initially you started on two sessions a week, next thing you knew, he wanted to practice every day after school. Your body was aching constantly but you didn’t care, it was all worth it to see the grief slowly ebb away from his face.
His stance was slowly improving. When starting boxing it can be a lot to take in, with the footwork, defence and attack all happening at once, but after a few sessions he was taking it into his stride. He was a quick learner.
“Okay,” you heaved a breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Your hands were securely in a pad on each hand, creases from where Peter’s punches landed appearing on the material. “Just make sure when you’re tired you don’t wind your punches back. The power comes from your arm, not from pulling it backwards.”
“Like this?” Peter demonstrated jabbing his arm out straight in front of him. You nodded.
“Much better. Winding back the punch can leave you exposed and you want to stay standing for as much of the fight as possible.” Peter shook his head up and down. “Are you ready for another go or do you want a break?”
“Let’s go one more time.”
“Okay, let’s just keep to the jabbing for now. Ready?”
Peter nodded, raising his gloved hands in the defence position by his jaw. His arm stretched out, hitting the pad. Your arm nearly came out of socket as he ploughed into the pad.
Slightly out of breath, you lowered the pads, smiling at him. “Great job.”
He hadn’t seemed to have noticed the lowered pads. One minute, you were standing upright, and the next second, you were staggering backwards. Agony exploded in your nose and wetness started to slip past your lips.
Peter instantly rushed to your aid, ripping the gloves off and waving a hand in front of your face. “Shit, are you okay?”
With a bright grin, you smiled up at him. “That was perfect!”
“Excuse me?” Peter’s brow quipped. He looked at you as you were slightly swaying on your feet, blood gushing from your nose. Despite the red flooding your chin you had a wide grin on your face.
“Your form was perfect!”
“Uh, thank you?”
“I’m pretty sure you broke my nose but it’s worth it.”
“Y/N I’m so sorry.”
“I’m proud of you!”
“We need to get you cleaned up.”
“Meh, I’ve had worse happen. Let’s try again.”
“Y/N!”
“Fine. I could have gone for another round but whatever.” You ducked out of the ring with Peter’s assistance, grabbing the first aid kit. He instructed you to sit down, which you did with a reluctant huff.
He pulled out the alcoholic wipes, ripping open the packaging.
“You have to admit, you’re a little bit proud.”
“I hurt you.” Peter began wiping the blood away from your face, the wipe coming back a bright red. A rush of pride soared through you at the sight - it was a sign he was improving.
“It was my fault, I lowered the pads.” You paused a teasing smirk appearing on your face. “Just remind me to wear a helmet next time.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“And you’re a pain in my nose!” He stared at you blankly. “Too soon?”
His lips curled up at the sides.
“It’s nice when you smile, you should do it more often.”
“I’ve not had much to smile about these days.”
The pair of you fell silent. You could tell Peter was thinking about his uncle, just in the same way you were thinking about the loved one you had lost. It was strange the way grief can never lose its hold over you - it would never disappear, only weaken to the point where memories don’t feel like ripping open old wounds.
It hit you suddenly that you wanted Peter to know that it got better. Without realising it, you started to tell him about what happened to you. “Did I ever tell you that when I started here, I was in the exact same position as you? I was angry, getting into fights, drinking, smoking weed, one time I even got arrested.”
Peter froze, alcohol wipe dangling in his hand. “What changed?”
“Boxing. It was the perfect place to vent out my aggression. I miss them all the time, but now I know how to handle my grief.”
“By hitting a boxing bag?”
“Better than hitting a person.” You coughed. “Well, at least hitting someone out of the blue. You will punch someone every now and then but it comes with the sport.”
Peter nodded. You could sense his understanding. You watched as he pieced the pieces of the puzzle together, turning to you with a slack jaw. “You were the one who put the flyer in my locker.”
“Guilty.”
“Why?”
“Because I was like you. And I wanted to help.” Peter wiped the blood from your face, disposing of the wipes. He seemed to be lighter than he was that day in the hallway, making your heart swell. “He’d be proud of you.”
“Thank you…” he averted his gaze. He swallowed thickly. At that point you expected the conversation to be finished.
He looked up at you, a slight curl to his lips. “You broke the one rule of fight club.”
“Eh?”
“Don’t talk about fight club.”
A beat passed. A small laugh crept out of your mouth, and you hit him playfully. “You’re a nerd.”
Prompt: ❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜ with Peter (requested by @budcooper for my 3k follower celebration)
Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY!), fingering, semi public sex, established relationship
Notes: So I based the setting of this on the Toby!Spidey movies where they have that ball cause I’m a sucker for formalwear lol (hence the gif I used too)! And I already DMd you but Clarke I loved this prompt so much!! Feel free to also follow my update blog and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post @flightlessangelwings-updates
~
The noise of the party crowd buzzed in your ears and the sparkle from the glam flooded your eyes. You weren’t used to this type of high society party, but you couldn’t turn down your boyfriend, Peter, when he asked you to join him as his date. You were proud of how well his photography job was going, and the sight of him all dressed up in a suit literally took your breath away.
“Shit Pete,” you whispered as you lunged at him for a heated kiss, “You should wear this more often.”
✍ Summary: Your Peter’s best friend. So, when he almost loses you - it’s dejavu. | 2.7k
Warning: NO WAY HOME SPOILERS
Finding yourself in a whole new version of New York with your best friend, Peter Parker, was confusing enough.
But whoever thought that it was a good idea to add some magical portal with two teenagers who seemed to be calling out to your best friend - obviously was crazy.
“Should we go to them?” Peter asked, nodding towards the portal with the two teenagers.
You looked at him, “Peter, as your best friend, you know that I often commend you for your brilliance, but this is seriously one of the dumbest ideas you’ve had.”
Relationship: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader Warnings: Mentions of sex, suggestive language, crappy title (i’m sorry) Summary: You find the hickeys Peter left on you last night A/N: This is a short, cute thing that came to me in my sleep last night lmao I’m sorry I’m on a bit of a TASM!Peter kick lately. Peter is college-age in this which is very obvious but im still mentioning it here lmao please enjoy :)
Usually, it was your alarm clock waking you up for your 8 A.M. lecture. But today, it was your annoying yet adorable boyfriend attacking your neck that roused you from your sleep.
You giggled, playfully trying to push him off. Of course, he didn’t budge. “Peter, seriously?”
Peter had surprised you last night by showing up at your dorm. His Friday lecture had been canceled and he thought that’d give him the perfect chance to come to visit you. You two had spent a lovely first night together but unlike him, you did have a Friday lecture to get to.
“Mmm, sorry,” he muttered into your neck as his hands ran up and down your sides. “Can’t seem to get enough of you. I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, honey, but you can have more of me after class,” you replied as your alarm clock went off on your bedside table. Going to a different college than your boyfriend was tough but you know what else was tough? Passing your classes.
“Skip it,” Peter replied.
You gasped at his suggestion. “Is the genius Peter Parker telling me to skip class?”
“He is,” Peter said and lifted his head from your neck. He looked at you with tempting, pleading eyes. “And I think you should listen to him. He is a genius after all.”
You laughed and shook your head, taking the chance to slip out from Peter’s grip. He whined at the loss of contact. You ignored his silly antics as you rifled through your closet, hunting for an outfit.
“I’ll be gone for an hour at most,” you said as you pulled on the comfiest outfit you could find — because, come on, Friday class — and headed over to your mirror to start on your make-up. “You can lounge around here or…”
Your words died out as you took in your rough appearance. It took all your strength not to scream as you whipped your head to your boyfriend who was completely oblivious to what you had just found. He was laying on the dorm bed, flipping through one of your textbooks.
“Or what, babe?” Peter asked, still unaware of the anger that was beginning to boil in you.
You promptly ignored his question and asked, “Peter, what the hell is this?”
“One of your textbooks,” he replied. “You know, this all seems a little—,”
“No, Peter, I’m not talking about the damn textbook,” you said, your voice just nearly at a scream. Your tone made Peter finally look up at you. “I’m talking about the fact it looks I took a million paintballs to the neck.” You motioned dramatically towards the string of hickeys that painted your skin, ready to burst. It wasn’t unusual for either of you to leave marks on one another but you tried to refrain from it when one of you had something to do the next morning. Something like — going to class.
Peter, however, wasn’t phased at all. A cocky, cheesy grin slowly broke out on his lips as he took in the marks he had shamelessly made on you last night. There wasn’t even an ounce of remorse in his eyes.
“I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” he said with a laugh. “You were screaming but it wasn’t from anger.”
You felt your skin get warm as the memories of your late-night activities flooded your brain — No, you couldn’t get distracted by that. You pushed back the thoughts.
“I have class to go to, Peter,” you whined as you began fumbling for your foundation. You didn’t actually normally wear heavy make-up, your foundation only being used in desperate times. Like now. “I barely have time for this.”
Peter sat up on the bed. “Then leave them,” he said with a shrug. That ridiculous smirk was still plastered on his face.
You shot him a look in the mirror. “I can’t go to class with all…this on my neck. What on earth would my classmates think?”
Peter barked out a laugh. “Maybe that you have a partner who knows how to please you?”
“Peter, that’s…” You shook your head but didn’t know where to go with your words. You eyed your foundation, trying to ignore the little stirring that began in your stomach at his words. Well, when you put it that way…
When you turned your attention back to the mirror, Peter was suddenly behind you. You nearly jumped, having not heard him approach. He was sporting only a pair of grey sweatpants that were hanging tempting low.
“That’s what?” He asked as his hands snaked around your waist and his head fell to your shoulder. Your gaze met his in the mirror. “That’s a good idea? That’s a great idea? I am a genius, according to you.”
Gosh, he was never going to let that go. “It’s just… It’s not very professional, is it?”
“If you’re so worried about it,” he muttered into your neck, “why don’t you skip class today and come back to bed? We’ll let those marks heal, hmm?”
You squirmed beneath his touch, a light, breathy laugh leaving your lips. “Are you really going to let them heal? Or are you just going to add more to the collection?”
“Hmm,” he sighed, “haven’t decided yet. Why not come back to bed and find out?”
“You’re ridiculous, Peter,” you said as he began pulling you away from the mirror and towards your dorm room bed. It was the complete opposite of what you should be doing, but you didn’t have the strength to fight it.
“But you love me,” Peter replied.
“Yeah,” you muttered, “I guess so.”
The next thing you knew, you were being pulled down into the sheets once again.
