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#peter parker au
waitimcomingtoo · 7 months
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Dick’s
pairing: Peter Parker x reader
synopsis: the only good part of your job at Dick’s Sporting Goods is how often Peter comes in to buy repairs for his suit
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“Back so soon?”
“What?” Peter looked up and pulled his earbud out when he heard you say something. You chuckled when you heard the music coming through his earbuds and continued scanning the spandex shirt he was buying.
“You were here two nights ago.” You reminded him. “And four days before that. You’re here all the time, actually.”
“Yeah, I am. How’d you know that?” Peter blushed as you handed him the bag of his stuff. You looked around for anyone who might be listening before motioning for Peter to come closer. His blush deepened and he leaned across the register.
“I work here.” You whispered in his ear. You cracked a smile as you leaned back and pointed to the Dick’s Sporting Goods logo on your uniform shirt.
“Right.” He laughed shyly. “Sorry.”
“It’s all cool. I’m sorry that I work here too.” You shrugged, making Peter laugh again.
“It can’t be that bad, can it?”
“The name of the store is Dick’s.” You said flatly. “And apparently, that’s the only kind of people they hire here.”
“Yeah. I asked someone for help finding the nuts and bolts and he asked if I looked in my mouth.” Peter admitted. Your jaw dropped in surprise before you burst out laughing.
“Who was it?” You asked him. “Did he have red hair?”
“Yeah. In the hardware section.”
“Fucking Jeremy. I’ll kick his ass for you, okay? I’m pretty sure he’s like 13 or something but I’ll still do it.” You said, and Peter couldn’t tell if you were joking or not.
“That’s really not necessary.” He laughed shyly.
“All right.” You nodded. “Just know that I would. I’ve been looking for a reason to kick his ass anyway.”
“Why?” Peter wondered.
“Didn’t you see his face? It’s so punchable. Plus, he watches videos in the break room at full volume with no earbuds in. And if he thinks the video is funny, he’ll rewatch it multiple times. So then we all have to hear this loud, unfunny video multiple times. It drives me crazy. He deserves to get his ass kicked. I might do it just for fun now.”
“His face was pretty punchable.” Peter admitted.
“Can we hurry this up? This is taking way too long.” A man behind Peter complained, making your smile fall.
“That’s what she said.” You mumbled as you grabbed Peters receipt.
“To him.” Peter replied. You looked up at him and smiled in surprise.
“Because he’s probably bad at sex.” Peter explained in a weak voice.
“No, I got it. And I appreciated it. Thanks.”
“No problem.” Peter laughed shyly.
“One last question for you. Then I have to help Mr. Clean with his very important purchase of golf ball cleaner.” You said as you nodded towards the guy behind Peter.
“Oh, sure. Ask away.”
“Are you listening to Judas by Lady Gaga?” You asked and pointed to Peters earbuds. He turned red in embarrassment and thought about lying, but you clearly already knew.
“It’s her best song.” He said simply.
“Oh, I know that.” You assured him. “I just wanted to make sure that you know that.”
“Oh, I do.” He matched your tone, making you smile.
“Well all right then. Have a good night. See you really soon probably.” You teased him.
“Yeah. See you soon.” Peter smiled at you as he took his receipt.
Peter practically skipped out of Dicks that night. He frequented the store every time his suit needed a repair and had seen you working there a few times, forever looking miserable behind the cash register. He just never thought you’d notice him too.
A few nights later, Peter busted the eye on his mask while on patrol. He dropped his suit off at home and when to Dick’s Sporting Goods to get something to replace it. When he brought it up to the register to buy and smiled when he saw you.
“Hey.” You smirked at him and blew a bubble with your gum.
“Hey.” He smiled softly at you.
“Gum?”
“What?” He asked. You wordlessly held up a pack of Big League Chew and blew another bubble.
“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving.” He replied without thinking. He felt embarrassed for malign a stupid joke but you cracked up over it.
“I use that joke all the time.” You laughed. “Except I usually say “no thanks, I’m trying to quit.” I haven’t heard that one before.”
“I like yours better.” Peter tried to flirt.
“You can steal it. I won’t mind.” You winked at him and blew another big pink bubble. Peter gulped as you handed him his bag.
“Thanks. Have a good night.”
“You too.” You called after him as he left the store.
He returned a few days later, not that he needed anything. He was here for you this time. He came into the store at night with a plan to learn your name. It wasn’t much, but it was a step towards getting to know you better.
“Hey, Judas Boy.” You waved to Peter from behind the register.
“Hey, Dick’s girl.” He waved back and grabbed some spandex before heading to the register.
“Oh, thank God.” You said sarcastically. “You haven’t bough red and blue spandex shirts in almost a week. I was worried you were going to run out.”
“I almost did. This week has not been easy.” Peter humored you. You smiled when he played along and put his stuff into a bag.
“How come you guys don’t wear name tags?” Peter asked you as he put his plan into action.
“We’re supposed to. We’re also supposed to wear hard shoes and khaki pants.” You said behind your hand and pointed your foot out from behind the register to show him your leggings and crocs.
“I see. Not much of a rule follower?”
“I can be. But not for Dicks. Nothing for Dicks.” You said with such passion he couldn’t tell if you were kidding or not.
“But where else can you find a spandex section like this?” Peter joked and held up his bag.
“Models. Target. Walmart. Patagonia.“ You started to list off.
“Okay, sure.” Peter agreed. “But Dicks is the only one that carries red and blue.”
“Oh, I see. And red is blue is the only kind you can buy?” You chuckled.
“Obviously. What am I supposed to wear? Black?” Peter grimaced, making you laugh again.
“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? I’ve always wondered that. Why could you possibly be doing that you need all this red and blue spandex clothing?”
“Cause I’m Spiderman.” Peter said with a simply shrug. He held his breath and hoped you take that as a joke, which of course, you did.
“That’s hot.” You smirked and handed him his receipt.
“Have a good night.” He told you.
“Night.”
Peter was back just a few nights later. He never actually learned your name, so he technically had an excuse to return. He brought a spandex shirt up to the register and you laughed when you saw it.
“I think you’re single handedly funding our red and blue spandex supply.”
“Really? I’m the only one who buys it?”
“Just you.” You nodded. “My boss said he wasn’t gonna order anymore but I told him that would be making one special customer very unhappy.”
“You told him to order more just for me?” Peter smiled shyly and felt his blush go all the way to his ears.
“Duh.” You scoffed. “I gotta earn that sweet, sweet $15 an hour somehow. Pleasing one specific customer is how I choose to do it.”
“$15 an hour to work by yourself every night is insane. But I don’t even get paid for my job, so I’m not one to talk.”
“What is your job?” You wondered.
“I told you. I’m Spiderman.”
“No, but really.” You laughed. Peter looked down at the spandex and tried to think of any other profession that could explain why he was always buying it.
“I’m a male ballerina.” He said finally.
“For real?” Your eyes widened. “That’s way cooler.”
“Cooler than Spiderman?”
“Hell yeah.” You scoffed. “I’ve never seen Spiderman do a pas de deux.”
“I’ve never seen anyone do a pack de- um…”
“Pas de deux.” You chuckled when he couldn’t say the word.
“Yeah. That.” He blushed again.
“Have a good night then, nutcracker.” You said with a wink.
“Night, Dick‘s girls.”
The next time Peter came into the store, he had to stay away from the spandex section. May was getting suspicious about why he was buying so much when his suit didn’t have any visible damage, so he had to think of something else.
“Gummy worms?” You asked as Peter dropped a bag of sour gummy worms on the counter.
“You sell them. So I’m buying them.” He shrugged. You laughed as you scanned it and looked up at him.
“Do you live around here?”
“About 4 blocks away.” He answered. “Why?”
“Because this is New York. Which means you had to have passed, at the very least, 4 corner stores to get here. All of which sell gummy worms. And yet, you chose to walk all the way to a sporting goods store to get them. Why is that?” You asked as you leaned on the counter.
“I didn’t need spandex tonight.” He admitted as a blush painted his cheeks.
“Then why’d you come out here?” You smirked.
“Because I’m a stalker. And I’m learning your schedule so I can smite you and wear your skin.” He replied without thinking. He held his breath again but was sure you would not find a joke about him killing you to be funny. But to his surprise, you smirked in amusement.
“That’s hot.” You said replied. “Can you cover my shifts for me once you start wearing my skin?”
“Sure.” He shrugged.
“Cool. Enjoy your worms.” You chuckled and handed him his candy. Peter was about to leave when he decided to rip open the bag and hand you a worm.
“For your troubles, madam.” He said, then made a dash for the door. He heard you laughing as he walked out into the street, making it all worth while.
Peter returned to the store the next day but felt his heart sink in disappointment when he didn’t see you behind the register. He turned to leave and jumped when you were standing right behind him.
“Have you ever seen Black Swan?” You asked him.
“What? Jesus Christ. You scared me.” He said and put his hand over his pounding heart.
“You’re a male ballerina, right? You must’ve seen Black Swan.”
“No. I’ve never heard of it.” Peter answered as his eyes darted to the side.
“That was the face of a man who has 100% seen lezzy wet dream scene from Black Swan.” You laughed and pointed to him.
“Maybe once or twice.” His whispered.
“Well I’m going on break now and I was gonna go watch it in the storage room.”
“Oh. That sounds fun.”
“You wanna come?” You asked him like it was the most casual suggestion in the world. Peter looked around to see if any customers or employees were watching before following you into the back. He knew he shouldn’t be walking through a door that said “employees only”, but he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to hang out with you.
“Am I allowed back here?” Peter whispered and stayed close behind you.
“Probably not.” You shrugged and led him to the storage room. You shut the door behind the two of you and sat down on one of the shelves.
“Will you get in trouble?” Peter asked as he took a seat beside you.
“Maybe.” You shrugged again and pulled the movie up on your phone.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble with your manager. I’d feel horrible.”
“Dude, my manger is 17 and high as a kite right now.” You snorted. “He won’t care as long as we don’t interrupt his vape session.”
“Oh. Okay.” Peter relaxed and leaned against the wall. You shoulders were touching and he realized this was the closest you’d ever been.
“Here. I didn’t want to subject you to using a strangers earbuds so I stole this from the front.” You said as you pulled new earbuds out of your pocket. You tore them out of the plastic casing and plugged them into your phone before offering Peter one.
“They’re your favorite colors, right?” You asked in a soft voice. The earbuds were red and blue, the only colors Peter ever bought. They weren’t actually his favorite colors, just the color of his suit, but he thought it was cute that you specifically got this pair thinking he’d like the colors.
“Yeah. Red and blue are great.” He smiled softly and put his earbud in. You put the other in and started the movie. Peter couldn’t pay attention to a single second because the smell of your perfume was triggering all his senses. He stared at you instead of the screen until his eyes landed on the earbuds connecting you.
“I can’t believe you stole for me.” He said with a smug grin.
“Relax. I don’t do it often. But I did also steal these for you.” You said and pulled a pack of gummy worms out of your other pocket. Peters face lit up and he opened the worms before handing you one. Your fingers touched at one point when you both reached for a word and he gulped.
“When did you take these anyway?” He wondered.
“A couple hours ago when I first clocked in.” You replied. “I made sure to wait until I was on the company’s time before I took them. I don’t do anything here until I’m on the company’s time.”
“So you knew you were going to ask me to watch this with you when you first got here?” He asked as a smile crossed his face. You looked up from the movie and sheepishly turned to face him.
“You always come in at this time. And I’ve always wanted to see this movie. I figured you’d like it because you like ballet. Is that weird?” You asked, sounding nervous for the first time.
“No. It’s not weird.” Peter shook his head to assure you. You smiled in appreciation and nodded before turning back to the movie. Peter was able to focus on it now, but couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you.
“I love getting paid to watch gay movies.” You sighed happily as the movie neared its end.
“You need to make money somehow. God, I need a job. I’m gonna go broke from this store alone.”
“You’ve never looked at your receipt, have you?” You chuckled and looked over at him.
“No. Why?”
“Every time you come in here, I only charge you for tic tacs.” You admitted. “No matter what you buy, I just remove the tag and then scan a pack of wintergreen tic tacs.”
“Wait, seriously? Why?” He smiled curiously and turned to face you.
“Because then I can eat the tic tacs without feeling bad about stealing since you paid for them.” You shrugged. “And so that you don’t give all your money to Dick’s Sporting Goods just to fuel your spandex fetish. You only ever spend a dollar or so when you come here. I can’t believe you never realized that.”
“So you’ve been saving me money this whole time? Those shirts are like $15 each.”
“Isn’t that crazy?” You chuckled. “An hour of my work is worth a single, thin shirt. That makes me feel less guilty about never making you pay.”
“You’re really cool for that. Thanks.” Peter said sincerely.
“Yeah, well. I think you’re cool too.” You shrugged and looked down so he couldn’t see your smile. Peter stared at you with a dreamy smile on his face until he noticed the clock behind you.
“How long is your break?” He wondered.
“15 minutes.” You shrugged.
“15 minutes?! We’ve been back for over an hour.” Peter whispered harshly.
“Jeremys got it.” You waved your hand. “I cover for him all the time. He owes me.”
“Okay, good.” Peter sighed. “As long as you won’t get in trouble.”
“Will you stop worrying about me? I’ll be fine. You need to start breaking a few rules every now and then. Do you always do exactly what you’re expected to?”
“You’d be surprised.” Peter mumbled and debated telling you the reason he was always buying red and blue spandex. You noticed he had a far off look in his eyes and moved his chin to make him look at you.
“You never told me your name, by the way.” You said in a soft voice.
“It’s Peter.” He replied as his eyes dropped to your lips. “What’s yours?”
“Y/N!” Jeremey came barging into the m storage room, making you and Peter jump away from each other.
“Oh, there you are.” Jeremy smiled calmly. “Can you help me ring this guy up? He has a coupon but it’s expired.”
“So then he doesn’t have a coupon.”
“I know but he’s being really annoying about it and told me to get the manger but Kyle is vaping and said not to disturb him.” Jeremy whined.
“Damn, still? How long has this kid been vaping for? Are we even sure he’s alive?” Peter asked.
“Wait, who’s that?” Jeremy frowned and pointed to Peter. You and Peter exchanged a panicked look.
“That’s Peter. He works the night shift.” You said quickly.
“I’m Peter. I work the night shift.” Peter nodded in agreement.
“Oh. Okay. I don’t really care. You could’ve been back here smocking crack and sucking dick with a total stranger and I would not have batted an eye. Lord knows I’ve done it. But I do really need your help with the coupon.”
“Ugh. Fine.” You grumbled and got up to go follow Jeremy. Peter got up as well to let himself out.
“See you later, Peter.” You squeezed his arm before heading back to the register. Peter touched the part of his arm where you’d hand had been and smiled softly.
“See you later.”
Peter walked out of the store with a huge smile on his face. But loud noises coming from dumpster behind the store caught Peters attention. He climbed up the wall and walked along the roof so he could scope out what was going on. When Peter saw two guys trying to pick the lock to the back door, he quickly pulled his suit out of his backpack and put it on. He dropped down behind the two guys and cleared his throat when they didn’t hear him.
“Hey guys. I guess you didn’t see the front door. It’s right around the block under the huge, glowing sign that says Dick’s.” Peter said sarcastically. The guys stopped what they were doing and wiped around.
“Woah. It’s the Spiderman.” One of the guys gasped.
“Why do people always say “the” Spiderman?” Peter wondered. “It’s just Spiderman. I was very clear about that when I first started.”
“Let’s get this freak.” The other guy said and started walking towards Peter.
“Before we fight, I should let you guys know that two against one isn’t really fair when the one has web shooters.” Peter said as he raised his fists. His cocky smile disappeared when three more guys came out of the shadows and closed in on him. The five guys took turns punching and kicking Peter until he laid on the ground in a ball. He struggled to catch his breath and coughed up some blood as one of the guys delivered another kick to his stomach. One of them rolled him over and climbed on top of him with his fist raised in the air. Peter accepted his fate and was about to shut his eyes when a hammer, still in its package, came flying through the air and hit the guy in the head. The man grunted in pain and fell off of Peter. This gave Peter enough time to crawl away as more hammers were thrown in the direction of the men. Peter weakly looked up and saw you standing in the doorway with a bunch of hammers in your arms that you were haphazardly throwing at the men.
“Eat my hammer!” You yelled and threw another hammer at the head of one of the guys. Peter let out a weak laugh and clutched his side in pain.
“Dick’s girl?” He asked groggily.
“It’s Y/n.” You reminded him and threw another hammer. This time, one of the guys caught the hammer and started running towards you. Before Peter could get up to protect you, you pulled a bowling ball out from the floor beneath you and threw it at the guy. He was knocked to the ground as you pulled something else behind your bat. When you stepped under a streetlight, Peter as able to see you had taken a lacrosse stick from the store. You whacked one of the guys across the face so hard that he fell to the ground. You swept the leg of another guy, leaving only one standing. Peter held his aching body as you fearlessly walked up to the final goon.
“Spiderman over here is my friend. He’s one of the much, much friendlier Avengers. But not me. I’m fucking mental. I was trained in kung fu for the moment I could walk. I was raised to be a weapon. You don’t want to mess with me.” You said to the man as your rung the lacrosse stick in your hands.
“Oh please. I’ve taken shits bigger than you.” The man sneered and pointed to you. You smirked and caught his finger between your thumb and index finger while keeping your pinky upright.
“You see this? This is called the Wuxi Finger hold. If I bend my pinky, your chi is gonna be so fucked that all the bones in your body will break and half this block will be decimated.” You told him
“You’re bluffing.” He scoffed. “That’s not possible.”
“You wanna find out?” You asked and tightened your grip on his finger. The man’s eyes flicked between your face and his finger as he debated whether or not he believed you.
“This chick is crazy. Let’s get out of here.” The guys finally decided and took off running. The four others groaned as the got up and ran away as well. You sighed and threw the bloody lacrosse stick into the dumpster before looking down at Peter.
“So you’re not a male ballerina?”
“No. I’m Spiderman.”
“That’s not as cool.” You mumbled and bent down to help him sit up fully.
“Can you really break all his bones with one finger?” Peter asked you.
“Huh? Oh, no.” You chuckled. “I stole that shit from Kung Fu Panda. Those ska-douches clearly don’t have good taste in movies so they didn’t even realize.”
“Oh.” Peter smiled weakly. “Well, thanks for saving me.”
“You’re welcome, Peter. Come on.” You winked at him and carefully helped him stand up. You wrapped his arm around you and helped him limp his way into the break room. You raided the sports injury aisle before helped Peter up onto a table.
“Am I allowed to be back here?” Peter asked as he pulled his mask off.
“No one’s gonna know. Kyles vaping in the baseball aisle and Jeremy went home.” You said and set the supplies you had taken down on the table beside him.
“Are you allowed to take those?”
“You are quite a rule follower for the face of illegal vigilanteism, you know that?” You chuckled and opened a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
“I’m actually not a vigilante. I’m on Mr. Starks roster. We have government clearance.”
“Okay. So just tell yourself I have government clearance to steal these supplies.” You told him, making him laugh. You laughed as well and started to clean him up. Peter stared at you fondly as you patched up his wounds.
“I really appreciate you trying to help me, but I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“I’m in charge of filling out the inventory catalogues when we get shipments. I can easily make it look like these supplies never existed. Don’t worry, okay? And even if I do get in trouble, it’ll be worth it.” You said without looking at him.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Peter asked softly. “Why are you always so nice to me?”
“Because I like you.” You shrugged. “I think you’re cool.”
“You do?”
“Is that shocking?” You laughed and cleaned a cut above his eyebrow.
“Kinda. I’m kinda a loser.”
“Really? Because I didn’t see any losers out there tonight. You know, other than those five losers trying to break into a Dick’s sporting goods. I’m really glad all the golf pencils and eye paint are safe.” You said sarcastically. Peter laughed and rested his hands on your hips.
“I like you too, by the way.”
“You do?” You asked skeptically.
“A lot, actually. Sometimes, I don’t even need anything. I just come here and hope you’re working.”
“Well I asked my boss to only schedule me at night because you never come in during the day.” You playfully one upped him.
“Really? You did that because of me?” He smiled fondly.
“You coming in here is the only good thing about this place.” You answered honestly.
“You’re the only reason I come.” Peter told you.
“Ayo.” You snickered.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughed sheepishly.
“It’s okay. It was funny.”
“No you know why I’m always in here buying spandex and random things. I bust up my suit a lot and the guy who made it for me isn’t around anymore.”
“It’s a pretty cool suit. I can’t even tell where you’ve patched it up. I guess our spandex is just really high quality.”
“You got some pretty cool clothes yourself. Not everyone can pull off Hunter green.”
“Wanna see something?” You asked and unzipped the green Dick’s zip up on had on to reveal a black T- shirt underneath that read “I heart Dick’s” with the stores logo in the heart.
“I heart dicks? No way that’s a real uniform.” Peter laughed and pulled on your shirt to read it better.
“Yep. I couldn’t believe it either. I guess the Boomers that make our uniforms don’t see penis humor in everything like our generation does. I tried to tell my boss that these shirts were ridiculous but he said he’d fire me if I didn’t wear it. Even though I literally hate Dick’s.”
“You do?”
“Not that kind of dick.” You laughed. “I meant the store. If this place burned down, I wouldn’t pee on it to put it out. In fact, I probably started the fire.”
“Then why don’t you quit?”
“I need a job.” You shrugged. “And they’re super understaffed so they give me a lot of hours. Plus, if I left, how would I see you?”
“We could hang out. Preferably not in a Dick’s sporting goods.” Peter suggested.
“That’s my favorite place to hang out.” You smiled. “Can I give you my number?”
“I mean, if you want.” Peter joked as he handed you his phone. You put his number in and handed it back to him.
“There. That’s my number.”
“It’s hot.” He said as he looked at it. He gulped and looked up at you, thinking you’d find that weird.
“You’re such a weirdo.” You chuckled. “You better text me.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Good.” You said and poked his chest. Peter stared at you for a moment as a smile tugged on his lips.
“Would it be weird if we kissed right now?” He asked you.
“Yes.” You scoffed. “You’re covered in blood and gravel.”
“Oh. Yeah. You’re right.” He blushed in embarrassment and nodded his head. You cracked a smile before wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him. Peter felt love in that Dick’s Sporting Goods that night. It was all around him. The kiss ended sooner than he would’ve liked, but it was still perfect.
“Hey, you did it anyway.” He smiled in surprise.
“Yeah, well. I wanted to.” You laughed shyly and kept your arms around his neck.
“And then she kissed me anyway. And she got Neosporin all over her face. And my blood! It was insane, Ned. I wish you could’ve seen her with the lacrosse stick. She destroyed so much store property. It was incredible.” Peter jumped in excitement as he recanted the story to Ned the next day.
“You had your first kiss in Dicks sporting goods?” Ned whispered in awe.
“Uh huh.” Peter nodded.
“What are you guys talking about?” Flash asked as he stuck his head between Peter and Ned.
“Nothing.” Peter said quickly and gave Ned a look.
“Peter kissed the hot Dicks cashier.” Ned blurted.
“Ned!” Peter whispered harshly. “Why would you tell him that?”
“You kissed Alejandro?” Flash gasped and looked jealous.
“What? No. Who even is that?”
“I know all the Dicks sporting goods employees by name. I’m in there all the time buying golf and tennis and bad mitten shit because I’m rich as fuck. If it wasn’t Alejandro, then who was it?” Flash questioned.
“Her name is Y/n. She works the closing shift.” Peter told him.
“Wait, the one with the rebellious gleam in her eyes? No way you kissed her.” Flash snorted. “I’ve been trying to get her number for months.”
“Really? Because I got it last night.” Peter replied with a shrug.
“And a smooch.” Ned added. “On the mouth.”
“He knows where, Ned.” Peter whispered without taking his eyes off Flash.
“There is no way in hell that Penis Parker was macking on a hot cashier. And at Dick’s sporting goods no less.” Flash laughed loudly, drawing the attention of students passing by.
“It’s true.” Peter insisted. “And I don’t care if you believe me or not. Because I know it’s real.”
“Wow. You hear that, everybody? Penis Parker has a fake girlfriend!” Flash shouted in the hallway. People stopped to laugh and point at Peter, making him turn red.
“What? No I don’t.”
“He’s pretending he had a girlfriend who works at Dicks Sporting Goods to make up for the fact that no one will ever touch his dicks sporting goods.” Flash said even louder.
“Oh my God. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Peter grumbled and Ned followed after him as he left. Once they were out of the crowd, Peter pulled his phone out and looked over your last conversation.
“Do you think it’s weird she hasn’t texted me back in a while?” He asked Ned.
“Well what was the last thing you guys talked about?”
“We were in the middle of a conversation about the best Adam Sandler movie and she ghosted me.” Peter said as he checked the time. Your shift had definitely started by now and he knew you texted on company time.
“Is she working tonight?”
“Yeah. Closing shift.”
“So go visit her.” Ned shrugged.
“What if she doesn’t want to see me?” Peter worried.
“She wouldn’t have kissed you if she didn’t like you.” Ned reminded him.
“I guess so. Okay. I’ll go see her after class.”
Once Peters last class ended, he pulled out his phone to call you as he walked in the direction of your store. You answered the phone but didn’t say anything.
“Hey. I was just thinking of you.” Peter said into the phone.
“Peter.” You whispered in a shaky voice. He could tell you were crying and froze in his tracks.
“I was planning on stopping by. Is everything okay?” He asked and quickened his pace in the direction of the store.
“No. I don’t think you should come in.” You said quietly. Peter stopped walking and felt his heart sink. You must’ve lost feelings after the kiss and didn’t want to hang out anymore.
“Oh. Oh, okay. No problem. I won’t come by.” He said and tried not to sound as disappointed as he felt.
“But maybe your friend can come in?” You asked, making his senses tingle.
“My friend?” He asked and started towards the store again.
“Yeah. The ballerina.” You replied and he knew exactly what you meant. Peter stopped in an alleyway to throw on his suit before running towards the store.
“Are you in danger?”
“Yeah. Sounds good.” You said with a forced laugh.
“I’ll be right there. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Who are you talking to? Is that a phone? I said all phones in the bag.” Peter heard from your end of the phone. You hung up after that and Peter raced to the store. When he got there, he snuck in through the back and quietly made his way to the front. He found you behind the register with your hands up in the air as a man in a hulk mask stood in front of you.
“Hey, buddy. Let me guess. The last jock strap you bought was too loose you’re back for another one?” Peter said, making the guy whip around. That’s when Peter saw the gun in his hand and froze.
“Oh. My bad. I didn’t see the gun from behind.” Peter said and put his hands in the air. He made eye contact with you from behind the register and you mouthed that you were sorry.
“Why don’t you walk out of here and pretend you didn’t see anything, okay pal?” The man said as he pointed the gun back at you.
“Sorry sir, but I can’t do that. You see, I’m quite taken with the cashier you’re holding at gunpoint here.” Peter said and pointed to you. You let out a short laugh as tears fell down your face.
“Good. Then you can watch me blow her head to bits.” The man said and took a step towards you. You let out a little squeak in fear and shut your eyes.
“Can I convince you to reconsider? She’s got a great head. I’d hate to see it get blown off.” Peter said calmly and slowly made his way towards the man.
“I said you could take the money. Just take it and leave.” You pleaded with the man.
“There was only $36.62 in there. I didn’t rob store for less than 40 bucks.” The man shouted at you.
“No one uses cash anymore.” You whimpered. “It’s all Apple Pay.”
“Then tell me the combination to the safe.” He yelled and tightened his grip on the gun.
“I don’t remember it.” You cried. “I don’t listen when my boss talks to me.”
“You’re lying! I know you know.”
“Why would I lie? You think I’d risk my life to protect this store? I hate this store. It’s so stupid. Why is it called Dick’s? Who is Dick?”
“She’s making some excellent points.” Peter agreed.
“Both of you shut up! Give me the combination to the safe now or I’ll shoot you both.”
“I don’t know it!” You exclaimed. “I don’t even know the address to this place.”
“You think this is funny?” The man asked and took a step closer to you to the gun was pressed against your forehead.
“Not right now but I probably will later.” You answered honestly.
“That’s it. You’re dead.” The man said and cocked his gun.
“No!” Peter exclaimed as he dove towards you. He knocked you safely onto the ground while the man shot him three times in the chest. You screamed as Peter fell to the ground in a thud. You were about to reach for him when he jumped back up on his feet.
“Just kidding! It’s bulletproof.” Peter said cheerfully as he shot a web at the man’s gun. He yanked it out of his hand and threw it to the side before shooting two more webs that stuck the man’s arms to his sides and glued his legs to together. The man fell to the ground and tried to break free, but was unsuccessful. Peter shot one last web at the man’s face before pulling his mask off. He turned around to ask you if you were okay and was immediately met by you throwing your arms around him. He pulled his mask off before hugging you back tightly until your breathing calmed down.
“How did you know you were bullet proof?” You asked in a shaky voice.
“I didn’t.” He admitted. “I just knew that you weren’t.”
You pulled away to stare at him in disbelief, almost looking angry with him for risking his life for you. Your angry expression melted into a look of awe.
“Thats hot.” You said and threw your arms around him to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and held you tighter, only breaking apart when you needed to catch your breath.
“Do you kiss all your local cashiers like that?” You asked him.
“Nope.” He chuckled. “Just you.”
“Good. You better keep it that way.”
Peter smiled and pressed his forehead against yours as you both calmed down from all the excitement when a thought crossed his mind.
“Did you really not know the combination to the safe or were you protecting the store?” Peter asked skeptically.
“Are you accusing me of risking my life to protect Dick’s Sporting Goods from a robbery?” You pretended to be offended and put your hand over your heart.
“No. But I am accusing you not telling that guy the safe combination just to mess with him.” Peter replied. A smirk crossed your face as you went over to the safe and put in the combination.
“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for a bit.” You said as you pulled the safe open.
“I knew it.” Peter laughed and shook his head.
“I was planning on telling you something tonight. You know, before I got held at gunpoint by a man shorter than I am.” You said as you walked back over to Peter.
“Oh really? What?”
“They’re making me store manager. That means you can get all the free spandex and gummy worms you want.”
“No way.” Peter grinned. “They promoted you?”
“Kinda.” You waved your hand. “The last store manger went to jail for insider trading and I’m the only other employee over 18.”
“But still! I’m so proud of you.” He said and scooped you into a hug.
“You know, when they promoted me, you were the first person I wanted to tell.” You admitted. Peter pulled away to cup your face and smile at you.
“I’m honored. No one in this shamble of a store deserved it more than you.”
“I can make my own hours now because it’s my job to make the schedule. So let me know when you want to go on our first date that isn’t in a Dick’s sporting goods.” You smiled teasingly.
“I will.” He smiled back before getting serious. He blew out a breath and looked you in the eye.
“Dick’s girl, I have so enjoyed our time together. Would you maybe want to be my girlfriend maybe?” He asked with a hopeful smile.
“Maybe I would.” You shrugged. “But only if you never call me “Dick’s girl” again.”
“I can definitely do that.” Peter nodded and kissed you again. The kiss was interrupted by the sound of cops pulling up in front of the store.
“Cops are here. I gotta go.” Peter said apologetically and pulled his mask back on.
“Bye, Spiderman!” You waved at him as he walked towards the front door.
“Bye, Dick’s girl!” He shouted back before swinging off into the night.
“What did Spiderman just call you?” The police officer as he walked into the store.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Tag List 🏷️
@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure
@a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23
@geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​
@fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow
@thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe
@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174
@unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl
@marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom
@pandaxnienke  @thestylestour
 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours @parkerlovebot
2K notes · View notes
noobsquasher · 2 years
Note
Love your writing omg, can you pls pls write one where y/n has never had an orgasm before and is really innocent so her best friend Peter (who’s kinda dominant) helps her by going down and fingering her??
Say Yes To Heaven ✮
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Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: unprotected sex, praising, degrading, fingering, oral sex (reading receiving), swearing, etc
Summary: Your best friend, Peter is shocked to hear that you've never had an orgasm before. So in return, he offers to give you your first.
Notes: Peter Parker x Female Reader
All characters in this story are 18+
I know. 6 months since I've uploaded something, but here's another toe-curling smut for you <3 thanks for all love I've been receiving even though I've been gone.
------
“Which one is this for?” You asked, holding the foreign Lego piece, not knowing where to place it. 
“Oh! That’s the last piece I was looking for. Put that on the top, right here.” He pointed to the arch of the plastic building, indicating where to put it. 
You leaned over, carefully moving forward to gently connect the Lego pieces. 
“There! Voila!” You cheered, impressed that you finished about a quarter of your Hogwarts Lego project with Peter. 
“Great! Now we have about… 1,500 more pieces to go!” 
You took a deep breath, already tired of how long you guys have been building this. You took a look outside, the sky was painted with deep rose and tangerine, slight hints of indigo parading the ends of the horizon. 
“Pete, let’s take a break. I’m hungry.” You stood up, making your way towards his kitchen. 
“Uh, sure. What do you wanna eat? I have…” he followed you before opening his fridge, checking to see what he had in store, “Well, I um… I don’t really have much. May hasn’t gone shopping yet.” 
“What about pizza?” You proposed. 
“I have pizza dough. You wanna make it ourselves?” 
“Make pizza with you? The last time you were in charge of cooking, the fire department showed up not even an hour later.” 
“Hey! That was one time like forever ago!” 
“That happened last week, Peter.” 
He narrowed his eyes at you, huffing. You giggled. 
“Look, it’ll be fun! Us two, cooking, creating something homemade. Come on.” Those big brown eyes of his practically begged you with just the bat of an eyelash. 
You gazed at him, a smile creeping up your face. 
“Fine. But I’m in charge of oven duty, not you.”
Afterward, you two started your cooking adventure. Having Peter even be in the kitchen was already a fire hazard, so you took on most of the work, letting him do the easy parts. 
You watched intently as he rolled out the pizza dough, a pretty smile on his face as he enjoyed the activity. 
You couldn’t help but get lost in the minuscule act, something so small doing so much to your heart. You felt pure infatuation run through your veins, your eyes practically twinkling as you watched the person you loved most. 
You knew crushing on your best friend would have you end up in a ditch, a hole deep and wide enough to keep you from crawling out, a dark abyss that held all your pent-up feelings. Emotions that pricked you each time you saw Peter’s heart-wrenching smile. 
You didn’t know if he liked you back, you wondered if it was even a possibility, hoped there was a small part of him that felt the same way you did. 
You’ve known him forever, he’s been your sidekick since you could remember. Even when you found out that he was Spiderman, you still stuck with him through thick and thin, never leaving his side. 
You never thought your relationship would turn up the way it has, but now you are stuck. Adhered to this impending adoration you hold for Peter fucking Parker. 
Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize when Peter tried to catch your attention.
“Hey? You alright, my love?” He looked concerned, slight fear on his face. 
“What?” 
“Why do you have that look on your face?” 
“Huh? What look?” 
He gazed at you, studying your features, eyes marked to your chest, 
“Nothing. Um, I’m done with the dough. I already put the sauce on it.” 
You took a deep breath, reaching over the kitchen island to grab the sliced cheese. 
“Here, put the mozzarella on it.” 
When the pizza was prepared, you took the pan and placed it inside the oven, setting it. 
“Okay, we just gotta wait a little while, and then it’s done.” You announced. 
“Alright. So… what do you wanna do?” Peter leaned against the counter, looking down at you. His stance sent strange chills down your spine, you gulped, trying to get your conscience together. 
“I- I dunno. What do you wanna do?” 
“Wanna watch a movie?” 
“If you say Star-“ 
“Star Wars. There are new episodes of the man-“ 
“No, Peter. I’m not watching that shit again.” 
“Why not?! You made me sit through five Twilight movies!” 
“Don’t act like you're not on team Edward!” 
“I’m team, Alice!” 
You gazed at him, a grin staining your lips before you rolled your eyes, letting out a laugh. He couldn’t help but laugh at himself, the two of you cackling together. 
“Okay, alright, we don’t need to watch Star Wars again. For your sake.” He put his hand on your arm, squeezing it. 
You gazed up at him, your cheeks suddenly heating up. 
“Uh… let’s just talk, until the pizza is done.” 
He nodded his head, walking back to the living room to grab a seat on the couch. 
You sat next to him, keeping a safe enough distance from him, for your sake, and your panties, of course. 
“So, tell me something about yourself.” 
You grinned, 
“You know everything about me, Pete. You’ve known me forever.” 
“Yeah, but people still hold secrets. Tell me one of yours.” 
You kept your eyes on him, crossing your arms. 
I’m in love with you. 
“You first, Parker.” 
“Hm… well, this secret is one of my worst. Truly horrific.” You tilted your head at him, “I’m… I’m a Leo man.” He confessed, putting his head into his hands as if he was terrified at what he just shared. 
You gasped in mock offense, 
“Leo?! Oh god, no!” You wailed, covering your eyes. 
He laughed, shaking his head, 
“I know… I know, It’s my biggest character flaw.” 
You giggled,
“My biggest character flaw is not being able to have an orgasm.” You admitted, sharing a personal confession with Peter. 
His brows knit together, his gaze shifting. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Well… I’ve only had sex once, and the guy didn’t make me finish. And I’ve you know… experimented with myself before, but I’ve never really had that big O every woman talks about. I’m kinda… embarrassed. I feel like there’s something wrong with me, you know? Guys can get off so easily, but then when it comes to women who are inexperienced and who don’t know much about their bodies, it’s a whole other situation.” 
Peter listened intently, showing care in what you had to say. 
“So, you’ve never had a real orgasm?” He gently asked. 
“Not really.”
He kept his eyes on you, analyzing your body language. 
You felt the invisible tension between you two wrap around your neck, practically suffocating you with your vulnerability. You felt your heart race, wanting to change the subject. 
“Anyway, uh… I um, I think the pizza is ready.” You hastily stood up, making your way towards the kitchen. 
“It's not ready yet, but it smells good.” You say, inhaling the mouth-watering scent that’s filled the room. 
You felt Peter creep behind you, placing a careful hand on your waist. You didn’t jump at his touch, instead, you melted, leaning towards him. 
“You haven’t had an orgasm yet?” His tone held genuine concern as if he really cared about your situation. 
“It’s- it’s nothing, Peter. You shouldn’t-“ 
“Can I… can I show you how it feels?” 
You were nearly thrown back, almost dumbfounded at his words. 
“W-what?” 
“I’m a firm believer that every woman should be able to have a good orgasm every once in a while. You are such a hard worker, honey. You put in so much care and effort into your everyday life and into the people you love and… and I just can’t see how you haven’t blown up with all that stress you must have.” You were completely starstruck by Peter at the moment, you thought your feet had molded into the floor, “Let me… let me take care of you. Show you how good it feels to finally let go, and have that earth-shattering orgasm you’ve been waiting for.” 
You stood staring at him, unable to open your mouth. Had he just said what you thought he did? Propose an offer that would completely change your life. 
“Peter, you- you don’t need to do that for me. I know you care about me and all, but it’s not your responsibility.” 
“I know, but this feels like it is. I want you to have this experience, to step into a new path in your life.” 
You gazed into his honeyed orbs, contemplating the idea. 
This would be a whole new venture for you, a life-altering experience that you’ve been dying for. Denying the offer seemed like a foolish choice. 
“…It’s okay if you don’t-“ 
“I want to. I want to experience it.” 
He blinked, 
“Are you sure? Like one hundred percent positive?” 
“You're right, Peter. I need to experience this, I need to let go for once.” 
His eyes never left yours as a smile stained his lips. 
“So, we’re doing this? We’re really doing it?” He questioned, leaning closer to you. His chestnut orbs sparkled with underlying excitement, as did yours. 
“We’re really doing it.” 
-
As soon as Peter peeled off your sticky panties, your mind started to ramble. 
Has Peter done this before? If so, how come he hasn’t told me? Does he like me too? He wouldn’t do this just as a friendly gesture, would he? How does this affect our relationship from now on? Is he—
“Hey… hey, you're alright. I’m here, Angel.” The nickname slipped out his lips so smoothly, so perfectly, it nearly stopped your heart. 
He was so gentle with you, rubbing your thighs carefully, whispering soft affirmations to soothe you, treating you like something so fragile, a thin layer of glass. 
“Are you sure you wanna keep going?” You felt your heart thump throughout your body as you looked down at him, his face inches away from your velvety folds. 
“I mean- my pussy is already in your face so…” he chuckled, his warm laugh calming you. 
“Alright… if I’m hurting you or anything, please speak up. Don’t be afraid to talk to me.” 
“I will don’t worry.” 
He took one more look at you before his thumb trailed to your throbbing clit, drawing slight circles around it. The instant shock had your head thrown back, soft moans escaping your lips. 
“Shit… you're already soaked. Did I do this to you?” He continued his movements, playing with you like a guitar, pulling each string with pure delicacy, with one prominent goal in mind. You whimpered, breath heavy. 
“Tell me, Angel. Who did this to you?” 
Suddenly, his finger sunk inside you, almost too easy. You let out a roar, chest rising and falling as your gaze narrowed to the curly-haired boy between your legs. 
“You! You did, Peter! All you!” The pleasure was overwhelming, you felt your entire body heat up, your mind spinning. 
His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot of yours. You gasped, gripping onto his bed sheets as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 
“Good girl… such a sweet girl. You like that?” He praises, fingers digging deeper. You can’t help but continue to moan, eyes closed as you take in how fucking amazing this feels. Suddenly, you feel Peter’s hand slap your throbbing clit. You yelp, looking back at him. 
“Eyes down here, baby. Look at me while I make you come.” His sugared demands came as a surprise to you. 
Never have you seen Peter in this light before. It makes you feel a type of way, an instant feeling of desire. All you wanted was him. All of him. Every single inch of his cock just buried inside you. 
“Peter! Oh- oh fucking god!” You felt something burn within you, complete ecstasy running through your veins as Peter’s thick fingers continued to destroy you. 
“Talk to me, princess. Tell me what you want.” Your eyes practically burned into one another, Peter’s chestnut orbs were filled with lust. You wished he could always look at you like this. 
“I want- shit, I want to come. Please, please let me come. I’m begging you!” He smiles, diving into you as his hot tongue starts to draw circles around your little bundle of nerves. Harsh moans escape your lips, your legs starting to shake. 
It was as if his lips were a work of magic, moving them in such an inconceivable rhythm that you thought your mind was going to explode. With how he was devouring your soaked pussy and playing with that honeyed spot within you, it felt like you finally reached nirvana. 
Is this what heaven feels like? 
“Such a sweet pussy,” he groans, fingers hooked inside you, 
“God, you taste so fucking good. I could eat this pussy all night. Shit. Why didn’t you let me fuck you sooner?” He dives back into his succulent meal. 
You couldn’t answer him as crying out your moans was the only thing you could do. You started to wonder if this was really happening. Was Peter about to give you your first orgasm? 
You even realize that he’s been humping the mattress this whole time, fucking out his throbbing boner. 
“God! Peter! I’m gonna- I’m gonna come!” Your chest thumps rigorously, all your nerves start to light a fuse inside you. You start to feel lightheaded, bliss starting to kick in as Peter continues to play with your body like his own goddamn toy. “I’m- I’m gonna-“ 
Suddenly, he stops. You quickly look at him, all your limbs trembling as you whine. 
“Why- why did you-“ 
“All this time I’ve been waiting, just fucking dreaming about this baby. 
Now that I’ve got you, I’ll never let you go. I want- no, I need to feel you wrapped around my cock. I gotta make a mess inside you if you’ll let me. I’ll promise to make you cum on my cock for all eternity if you do.” 
You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. You needed at least three to five business days to process what he just said. 
“Please, babygirl. I’m begging you.” 
You laid still, those glossy orbs of yours stuck to the man before you. 
“If you don’t want that it’s alright, I’ll just—“ his ramblings were cut short as your lips connected to his, kissing him with such passion that tiny whimpers escaped Peter. You gripped onto his curls, pulling him into you. 
“Shut up and fuck the living shit outta me.” 
-
To say that Peter’s cock was big was an understatement. You’ve never seen something so beautiful. It was thick, long, veiny, and absolutely angelic. 
“Holy shit.” You blurt, eyes locked onto his leaking tip. 
“What? Is it too big? Or too—“
“No- Peter. Your dick is so… wow.” 
“Really? Do you think so? I always thought it was—“ You shut him up again with your puffy lips, you couldn’t wait any longer to have him deep inside you. 
“I don’t want you to go easy on me. Just fuck me like there’s no tomorrow, baby. I need you.” You plead before ripping off your top, your breasts falling in front of him. His chocolate orbs immediately stared at them. 
“Can I suck on them?” He asks softly, his hand grasping onto your pebbled nipple. You nod your head, biting your lip in anticipation. 
He lays you back down onto his sheets, his pink lips immediately attaching to your chest. You whine with pleasure, his hand reaching down to your abused clit to play with it again. 
His candied kisses mark your body with much love as if he’s branding you.
Never have you felt this euphoric.
You feel his cock brush over your cunt, as if he was asking permission to completely indulge inside you. 
“You have my word, Petey. Please let me feel you.” 
His pupils widen before he catches a kiss on your lips. As your tongues dance together, his large length slips inside you, stretching you out with blazing felicity. You both moan in desire, wanting more. 
His thrusts increase as he brings your knees up to his chest, completely fucking you insane like how you begged him to. 
The bed bangs against the wall as he pounds his cock within you, your cries filling the room. 
“Oh! Just like that! Fuck, Peter!” 
“You feel so fucking good. My god… such a tight pussy. Jesus Christ— I could cum already.” He groans, kissing you. You whine against his lips, arms wrapping around his back to pull him deeper. 
“You fucking slut. You love my cock, don’t you? Can’t get enough?” 
“Never! Oh, my fucking—“ you didn’t think he could sink any further, but when his cock hit your cervix, you completely lost your mind. 
You could feel him throb within you, your walls gripping onto him for dear life, never wanting to let him go. 
Harsh claps ran around his bedroom, you were definitely gonna feel the aches in the morning. 
Peter was right, why didn’t you let him fuck you sooner? His cock was addictive, this was a feeling you could never get over. 
You started to go numb as he pounded you senseless, utter babbles were all you could make out. 
“Already cock-drunk, baby? That dumb brain of yours can’t handle my pretty cock? Huh?” He teased. 
You honestly didn’t even know what he said. All you could feel was that huge cock inside you just absolutely tearing you up from the inside, and out. 
You felt that burning feeling again, soon realizing that you were gonna make a mess on him. 
“Gonna let me feel you? Come on, Angel. Let me feel you.” 
Suddenly, it happened. 
Your back brutally arched as all your muscles tightened, your intense orgasm raging throughout your body. You screamed Peter’s name like a damn prayer, trembling harshly as your cunt gripped Peter’s cock with all its glory. It was unlike anything else you’ve ever endured. Staining his thick length with your saccharine cum is what enlightenment must feel like. 
He grunts, “That’s it baby, that’s it. Good girl, such a pretty slut for me, yeah? Tell me you’re all mine.”
“I’m- I’m all yours. I swear. I swear, Petey.”
He smiles before crying with triumph as he finishes inside you, painting your walls with his delicate seed. 
As the high died down, you couldn’t help but feel fulfilled. A smile pricked your lips as you started to laugh, euphoria clouding your head. Peter looked over as you were giggling like a maniac. He too busted out chuckling as it was contagious. 
“Why- why are you laughing?” 
“Because… because that was the best sex I’ve ever had! I feel so… so fucking happy.” You confessed, a huge grin attached to your lips. 
Peter blushes, softly laughing before catching a much-needed kiss on your lips. His kiss was filled with tenderness, sweet love fusing between you. 
Suddenly, a burning smell pricks your nose. 
“Peter,” you try to break the kiss but he doesn’t stop, wanting to caress you forever, “…Peter— what’s that smell?” 
“Huh? What… oh shit. The pizza!” He jumps out of bed, running butt-naked towards his kitchen. 
You sigh as you shake your head.
“Call the fucking fire department again!” 
———
Copyright © of noobsquasher 2024
7K notes · View notes
atrwriting · 5 months
Text
bffs -- alpha!peter parker x omega!reader
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hi everyone :) I know this is different than what I usually write, but like I had to lol. you'll see just trust me
as always, warnings: filthy unapologetic smut, alpha x omega relations, unprotected sex (wrap it y'all), dom!peter, sex between friends
anyways...
your heat had come.
you knew it. for days, you knew it would come. there was nothing you could do to prevent such a violent attack on your senses, mind, and body — especially since there was no alpha that you would or could think to call to help you for a couple of days.
that type of… agreement required a lot of things. one, you had to be able to trust the alpha. they would have to be able to hold back their own urges to not injure you or claim you, and they would have to understand that this was an arrangement — not a relationship. that agreement also factored in how you would basically be bedridden and useless for a few days, needed to be absolutely coked out on oxytocin, and needed to be reminded to eat and drink for a few days. there were no alphas that came to mind when going over all of these requirements in your head.
well… that’s a lie, if you’re being frank with yourself.
there was one.
there was one, but he was off limits. completely off limits.
peter parker.
peter parker was your best friend, all throughout college. you studied different things, but had a few core classes together. that led to you staying close all throughout college and post grad. you weren’t exactly sure why you had hit it off so well, given the fact that he could be a bit goofy at times, always ran off to do something secretive, and was still in love with an ex that he wouldn’t cough up the name to. you didn’t even really understand how he could be an alpha — he could be quite nervous and not confident with his thought process or actions, but you surmised that made him more agreeable to be friends with. he didn’t have an ego, even though he was an impressive individual, and that’s why you admired him.
however, when you did think about him as an alpha… that was when the lines of friendship were crossed. all you could think about were the state of his eyes looked when he was focusing on something he deemed worthy of his attention. they would darken, and he would not tear himself away from the task until it was completed. before he was satisfied, there was a permanent crease on his forehead and between his brow. his lips would part slightly, and every so often his tongue would drag across his lips before his teeth tugged his bottom lip into his mouth. when he especially got frustrated with a task, he would do all of those things at once while he would lean back in his chair and deeply sigh. his impressive chest and arm muscles would be taut and on full display as he dragged his large, open hands throughout his hair and closed his eyes for a moment. you weren’t sure what was going on between those closed eyes in his brief moment of relief, but when they opened… nothing could stop peter parker.
fuck, you thought. i have to stop.
just thinking about peter like that made something twist and turn in your abdomen. part of you knew you were pathetic by how creepy and easy it was to rile you up if peter working was what got you, but you couldn’t care — not in this state.
that was when your phone buzzed.
annoyed, you grabbed your phone and the screen illuminated.
peter: still on for today?
fuck, you thought.
you: can’t. i’m sorry. something came up.
three dots appeared, and then disappeared. you immediately felt bad for cancelling on such short notice, especially to someone as sweet as peter. you hoped he wasn’t upset or angry with you. the three dots, signaling he was typing, then reappeared.
peter: you okay? what’s up?
fuck, fuck, fuck. you were and always strived to be punctual and considerate, and he knew that. he knew you would never cancel on him unless something was wrong. damn you for being such a good person, and damn parker for being so perceptive and an even better person. fucking christ…
you: i don’t feel well today. i’m really sorry
peter: no worries, feel better :)
you sent a quick thank you before clicking your phone off and rolling back into bed. you wrapped yourself in the covers, the shape resembling a burrito, and tried to sleep the best you could. the air conditioner was blasting as high as it could and the sheets were cool and crisp against your skin. your heat was not at its peak, thankfully, and because of that you were able to find some sleep for the next few hours.
that is… until you woke up.
to a fucking knock at the door.
startled, you ripped the covers off of you and whipped your head towards the door of your studio apartment. there was a person outside, as you could see from the shadow of two feet underneath the door. the person was whistling a tune you had heard before, and only one person usually whistled it…
fucking peter.
you adjusted your shorts and cropped shirt before hopping out of bed. you hadn’t smelled him yet, so you thought you would be able to handle a small interaction with him before politely kicking him out.
you opened the door, and immediately regretted the decision.
there stood peter with a small smile on his face, and food in hand. he was clad in a flannel, dark shirt and jeans, and thick boots made for walking in the city. his hair was perfectly tousled back, and his attractive face was on full display.
as was how delicious he smelled.
“fuck —!” you gasped, rolling away from the door to hide from the doorway’s view. you pressed yourself against a wall in your apartment. “peter — you shouldn’t —“
“what’s wrong?” he asked, immediately stepping into your apartment and in front of you.
god… he must’ve thought you looked so pathetic. there was a light sheen of sweat on your skin, skimpy pajamas, and your styled hair was ruffled from last night’s sleep. you were breathing quickly, with any part of your body you could manage pressed against the cool drywall.
he hurriedly placed down the food on a neighboring counter, and stepped towards you. “sweetheart, are you —“
“don’t,” you snapped sadly. “yes.”
“did you call anyone?” he asked, almost accusatory.
you shook your head as your body trembled.
“it’s dangerous not to,” he curtly reminded.
“i know, i know… ” you whispered softly.
“what can i —“ he began, not really sure knowing how to continue. “can i help with anything?”
you shook your head. “peter — you have to go — you smell so good and it’s — it hurts so bad, peter.”
the pain of desire and arousal spread from your core, to your womb, to your chest, and every single one of your limbs. you felt the top layer of your skin begin to buzz, and you whined at the feeling. you tried not to breathe through your nose, because when you did… every single muscle fiber in your body was screaming at you to reach for peter and ask him to help.
but your feet remained planted… just barely.
peter’s jaw clenched as his eyes drifted up and down your body. “...you smell good, too.”
your eyes immediately flicked up to his face, your expression wild. “don’t imply anything like that to me in this state. i have no control, and i don’t want to make you uncomfortable, peter — you’re my friend. please, peter, you should —“
“who said you were making me uncomfortable?” he took a small step towards you once more.
you stared into his eyes.
they were dark.
they were dark, and focused... just how you liked them.
you whined in pain, trying to mask it as a hum but failed.
“the question is...” he began. “am i making you uncomfortable?”
you tried to control of your labored breathing, but it was difficult when his scent invaded every single one of your senses. “no, peter, but —“
“would you want this,” he gestured his hand between the two of you, “if you weren’t in heat?”
you couldn’t stop yourself. you nodded in agreement, and looked down to the floor in shame. tears began to leak from your eyes at the pain that sent shockwaves all throughout your body. it was growing more and more difficult to remain upright.
“then what’s the problem, sweetheart?” he asked in his new york drawl. “you want me to take care of you?”
“fuck…” you seethed, his words scratching at every itch you had in your body. “you can’t say th-things like that, peter…”
“why not?” he asked, feigning innocence. “want me to stop?”
you didn’t answer.
he took one more step, and you could’ve crumbled then and there. “or do you want me to keep going?”
you sobbed, “i do.”
part of you thought that was all of the permission he needed to jump your bones, but he didn’t. he remained in his place, before he asked you another question.
“tell me what you’re worried about before we do that,” he ordered softly.
the command made your knees buckle, but you stayed standing as you sucked in sharp breaths of air. you wiped at your tears, trying to hold onto whatever sense you still possessed. “i don’t want to mess up our friendship — and i don’t even know if you would want this if i wasn’t like this —“
“baby, i’ve wanted you for a long time,” he answered lowly. his eyes were dark as he folded his lip into his mouth, licking the skin. “we can talk about it after, i promise, but right now… sweetheart, let me take care of you.”
something broke within you, and your knees buckled. “oh, peter…”
peter’s quick reflexes caused him to catch you before you fell, and he immediately pulled you up. you felt like you were floating then, finally in the arms of an alpha that seemed trustworthy. you felt his strong hand gently press against the base of your skull, and nudge you slightly into the crook of his neck. immediately, his scent hit you.
it felt like you were provided the sustenance you needed to at least be present in the moment once more. your heat had almost caused you to pass out, but being able to smell and lick at peter’s scent glands woke you up enough so that you were able to be aware of your surroundings and give into the carnal urge of taking the pleasure offered. peter held you upright and let out soft moans as you scented him, rubbing your back as you continued.
“fuck, you smell — that feels so good,” he rasped, his voice lowering. “so sweet.”
suddenly, peter’s fingers on the back of your neck tightened around your strands of hair and lifted your head back slightly. you broke from his skin with a gasp, saddened to have been taking away from the comfort you were provided, but then… it was peter’s turn.
he lowered his head to your scent glands and began sucking on the skin. you threw your head back into his hand and moaned into the open air above your head. you couldn’t see peter in your peripheral, but you knew his eyes were closed with a firm crease between his brow as his lips formed the perfect position to suck at your sweet and supple skin. the pressure was hard, and it hurt, but it was so fucking welcome. the electric shocks of pain were gone, and now were replaced with mind-numbing lust that made you selfish. you knew he would want some time scenting you as well, but you couldn’t let him. you needed him now.
“please, peter,” you whined. “i need you now, please…”
he chuckled against your skin, and pressed his flat tongue on the base of your neck and dragged it all the way up to your jaw. you gasped at the sensation before he planted a wet kiss by your ear. “you’re going to tell the alpha what to do, sweetheart, that it?”
you almost would’ve giggled and been playful back if you weren’t so consumed with desire. “i’m begging you, peter — please do something. it hurts so bad.”
“oh, you needy little thing…” he cooed before a heavy, large hand slipped its way into your shorts. “in these tiny little shorts…”
when peter finally slipped in fingers along your folds, you jumped in his hold. he chuckled darkly against your earlobe, which immediately melted you against him. you were putty to him then — a lust-numb omega who would do anything for him to make her feel good.
“so wet for me,” he rasped. “i was so mad at you when you told me you didn’t call someone — didn’t call me —“
“i’m sorry…” you whined. “please don’t stop…”
“oh, sweetheart, you feel so good i don’t think i could,” he spoke lowly. “you were so wrong not to call, but a pretty and needy thing like you doesn’t to deserve to be in pain like this, does she?”
you shook your head pathetically, tears coming to your eyes. “no, peter — please take the pain away.”
“i know, baby, i know…” he rasped once more as the pads of his middle and ring finger flattened against your bud, drawing rough circles. “you going to be good for me, now? tell me what you need?”
you pushed against his hand that held your head upright as the pleasure of his movements filled your womb with an intense feeling of warmth. you began to tremble in his arms, letting out small, pleased sighs… but you had ignored his question, and peter didn’t like that.
he slipped his hand away from your clit, and began to stroke the outside, drenched lips of your core.
“peter…” you begged in frustration, turning your head to look at him. you had never seen his eyes so fucking dark and focused — and full of desire. “peter — you promised.”
he laughed darkly. “i’ll keep my promise, if you promise to be good for me.”
“i’ll be so good for you,” you practically whined, eyes going wide and lips parting. “i promise i’ll be good for you, peter… i promise i won’t upset you again.”
“good fucking girl.”
immediately, he shoved his two fingers inside your entrance and pressed his thumb against your clit. before you could react, his mouth was on yours and stifled the moans that left your pretty lips. he shoved his tongue in your mouth, and the feeling of being so full made you whine in pleasure passed his lips. he swallowed your moans whole as he dragged the soda of his fingers in rough circles around your bud.
“oh, alpha…” you cried into him. “i needed this so badly. please keep going, please…”
“still don’t trust me?” he chuckled, slipping in his tongue to tangle with you. “trust your alpha, baby, i got you.”
...and trust you did.
peter immediately let go of you so he could lift you up by the back of your thighs. the pads of his finger dig deliciously into your flesh and the warmth of his body pressed so tightly against yours provided you so much comfort. you began to suck at his neck as he had done to yours, and a deep rumble sounded within his rib cage.
he was fast as he went for your bed, laying you down on the edge. you went to raise yourself and reach for him, but he wouldn’t allow it. with a smirk, he ordered you back down on the bed. begrudgingly, you pouted and laid back down.
peter took his time taking off his clothes, layer by layer, as he gazed down at you. a small circle of slick was collected by your shorts, embarrassment rising to your cheeks. you bit your lip as you gazed at his bare upper body. for a nerd, peter’s thick muscles were some of the most mouth-watering things you had ever seen. his shoulders, his traps, his biceps, his forearms — he was killing you as you stared at him, not allowing you to touch him.
maintaining eye contact, he fell to his knees on the floor. he was face to face with your clothed cunt and open thighs, but his eyes were on you. only you.
“don’t take your eyes off me, sweetheart,” he ordered. “do that for me?”
you nodded meekly.
he spread your folds so that nothing was standing in the way of him and your clit. almost immediately, his thick, wet tongue was working at where you were most sensitive. it was growing harder and harder to keep your eyes open and not throw your head back, lost in pleasure, but you kept your promise to him. you had folded your lips underneath each other to keep yourself upright and tamed, but you did what he asked.
what got you the most, though… was the fact that peter parker looked lost in a dream-like state as he ate you out. his eyes drifted closed and there was no crease in his forehead as tongue made the sweetest movements against your clit. one of his strong hands held one of your thighs in place, preventing you from moving either, when his other hand lifted up. he slid two fingers easily into you, and immediately started curling them and pressing them upwards into the wall inside you.
“oh my —“ your voice cracked as your eyes threatened to close. “god — christ — peter —“
you were barely making sense at this point. your hips were trying to roll against peter, but he held you down and in place. eventually, he pressed a flat hand against your lower abdomen and you thought you saw fucking stars. immediately… you threw your head back against the bed in defeat, writhing and on the verge of crying.
“hey,” he immediately snapped, taking his tongue off of you and rising so he was bent over you. “what did i say?”
with a whimper, you raised yourself to your elbows and looked at him shamefully. “to keep my eyes on you.”
his movements were halted, but his hand on your stomach felt so good as his fingers inside of you were still pressed against your upper wall and frozen in place. “was goin’ to be nice, but now i don’t think i am.”
he gave you a wet and sloppy kiss, but almost immediately withdrew as he kept his face inches from yours. you reached for his neck, holding the back of his head like he had held yours by the front door.
“please,” you whimpered. “i’m sorry… when you put your fingers inside me, and pressed down on my stomach… it just felt so good. please, don’t stop —“
you were on the verge of sobbing as he dangled what you wanted in front of your face. a smirk crept up onto his face, and you knew you were in for it. “felt too good for you, baby, that it?”
“i didn’t want it to stop,” you whimpered again, bucking your hips against his hand. “peter…”
“since you didn’t want to listen,” he began, slowly moving his fingers inside you once more. hummed in enjoyment, but kept your gaze on his face. “you only get my fingers for now. eye contact, or i take them away and leave. got it?”
“yes, yes.” you nodded frantically, twisting the ends of his hair in your fingers. “please, i’ll listen now.”
that was until his fingers started moving faster and harder.
his lips were mere inches from yours, but you were scared that if you kissed him that would obstruct your line of sight from his. you kept your distance, even though it was three inches, and tried your best to listen to him as peter absolutely wrecked the inside of you.
the sounds that left your lips were so fucking pathetic that it brought a deep blush to the tips of your cheeks. your womb felt like it was coming to life as peter worked and worked your sweetest and deepest parts, while pressing down on your stomach which only heightened the sensations.
“it feels so good…” you whined, tears feeling like they were going to spring from your eyes. “feels so good i could cry.”
“take it for me, baby,” he hoarsely said, eyes the darkest you had ever seen them. “show your alpha what a good girl you can be.”
he slipped a third finger in, and you were fucking gone.
he stretched you painfully and perfectly that you couldn’t stop the tear or two that leaked from your eye. your throat went hoarse with the pleasured gasps and sounds you were making, but your eyes never left peter’s unless it was to blink away the tears.
“that good, baby?” he taunted with a smirk. “making you feel that good?”
you hummed in approval, nodding pathetically. sobs left your lips as your nerve endings felt like they were shooting lightning. peter was fucking you with his hand like his life depended on it — like your life depended on it. your hips were struggling to writhe under the weight of his palm and all you could do was tell the man before you how good he was making you feel. his smirk and the lust in his eyes grew before his thumb began to draw circles on your clit.
you saw white.
you couldn’t help it — you had to close your eyes. nothing could stop them from slamming shut as your orgasm overtook your mind, body, senses, fucking everything as it flooded through your veins, warming every part of your being. it was warm, it was comforting, and it was fucking everything to you in that moment. you pressed your forehead against peter’s and just fucking sobbed.
“that’s it, baby,” he cooed. “that’s it.”
you whined in approval at his words and how his movements did not stop as you rode out your orgasm.
“such a good girl, taking everything i give you…” he pressed a wet kiss to the side of your face. “i know, sweetheart, i know… just keep cumming for me.”
you were shaking as you rode out their last wave of your orgasm before you smashed your lips to peter’s. it was sloppy, the way your tongues tangled with each other. his fingers still played gently inside of you as you shivered, moving away from his hands.
“you sensitive, baby?” he laughed. “can’t take it?”
your teeth sank into your lip as you shook your head. “need your cock, peter. please.”
he immediately straightened and stood up. you were sat on the bed, arms fully locked and extended behind you, with your knees bent and feet planted on either side of the bed. your pussy was drenched with your own juices, leaking down into the once perfectly clean sheets. your cheeks blushed as you gazed up at the man before you through your thick lashes.
“greedy girl,” he stated lowly, returning your gaze. you watched his long fingers unlatch his belt before you helped him pull his pants and boxers down. “your hips were fighting me so badly, baby. what? you wanna get on top?”
part of you was taken by surprise. it was common among omegas and alphas to fuck in missionary or from behind, and you were expecting that. however, part of you grew excited at the thought of having control and being able to take whatever you wanted. you smirked up at the man.
“can i?” you asked innocently. “want to feel you as deep as possible.”
he chuckled darkly before he laid back against your headboard. it was mesmerizing to see peter parker, the most accomplished man on this planet, smirk at you with such confidence. you wasted no time in swinging a leg over his hips and rushed to have him inside you.
you positioned him at your entrance, and immediately sank downwards.
if you had gone slower, the pain may have dissipated, but you needed that stretch as you lowered yourself. there was something to fucking erotic about the man below you being so big that even after being fucked by his three fingers, drenching you, you still craved that bittersweet sensation of being too small for him.
and he felt it, too.
“pussy still so tight for me,” he rasped. “you’re too good for me, aren’t you?”
you giggled at him before you began to roll your hips against him. the tip of his cock was pressed against a spot inside you that you could never dream of reaching, and it was something electrifying. it sent shivers up and down your spine, and all you could think about was how much you loved him buried inside of you.
suddenly, he sent a small slap on your ass. you gasped, and began to move faster and rougher against him.
“that’s it, sweetheart,” he grunted, hands now resting on your waist as he rolled your lower body with his. he pumped his hips upwards to meet yours, and those small whimpers began to leave your lips once again. “that’s more like it, baby. i know what that pussy needs.”
this entire time, peter had been focused on what your heat-dazed mind and body needed… and you couldn’t have cared less about what he needed. you didn’t even listen to him before, for chrissakes… you needed to be better — and you knew just the thing.
you planted one hand in front of you on his pelvis, and reached the other behind you to cup his balls. they were heavy in your hand, and your core tightened at the sensation. he let out one of the loudest and surprised moans you had ever heard in your life. it was music to your ears, and sent sparks right to your pussy. you clenched around him as he threw his head back, closing his eyes and scrunching his brow together as his lips parted in ecstasy. you rolled your hand and your hips at the same time and threw your head back. moans and whines were leaving your lips like no one could hear you, like there was no one in the world besides you and peter.
suddenly, peter pulled you towards him so you were practically pressed front to front. you continued to smash your hips with his and roll his balls in your hand as your next orgasm quickly approached. his face was at level with your breasts, which he greedily accepted the view of. he brought one hand up to roll one of your nipples between his fingers, while he roughly sucked on the other. your senses went crazy then, and all you knew was to drive your hips up and down and front and back to ensure peter’s cock never left your pussy.
“your cock’s so big, alpha,” you whined. “makes me feel so good…”
“being such a good girl for me,” he groaned against your chest, breath hot on your skin. “your alpha’s so proud of you.”
“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck —“ it was all growing too much, the pleasure. your head felt like you were swimming, and your hips were growing sloppy.
peter noticed immediately, smiling menacingly. “you got too greedy, hmm?” he threw you off of him, back flat on the bed, and you gasped in surprise. “need you to take my knot, baby. your pussy is just too good.”
he bent your thighs backwards, so your feet were in the air close to your head. immediately, he shoved his long and thick cock inside you. the head of his cock was red and angry, and you gasped as you watched it enter you and felt it press against your upper walls once more. peter planted two strong arms on either side of you as the veins in his arms made an appearance, looking more pronounced than ever. his hips were snapping against yours, and you lost all control at that moment.
“finish inside me, alpha,” you begged. “need your knot so badly.”
"oh, fuck —"
immediately, peter wrapped your hair around his fist and pulled you taut to him. you were clinging onto him for dear life — the very sustenance that he promised to give you and was giving to you tenfold. whiny, pathetic breaths and gasps were shoving past your lips and were music to peter's ears. he could practically hear, feel, taste, see, fucking sense your orgasm creeping up on you, holding you hostage. he needed to make you finish, he had to. he had to because you were in need, sure — but on some level, on some animalistic, carnal level — he needed to see you in a state of pure bliss for his own selfish need.
and he knew just what you needed.
peter immediately attached his lips to your scent glands on your neck and sucked as hard as he could. his hips drove themselves against yours, and he himself fell victim to the fall of immense pleasure. it blindfolded him and shoved him straightforward, backwards, sideways — he didn't know... he couldn't tell. all peter knew was that when he came as hard as he did, he felt his knot growing and latching itself inside you... and that's when he knew.
your tight, sopping wet pussy clenched around his knot and you came with a scream. every ounce of pain you had felt over the course of the day had left you. you were a stranger to it, any kind of pain. the only thing you knew was peter and his warm skin that felt so good against yours. your hips thrashed against his, unable to deal with the pleasure, but his strength held you down so you could not shy away from the immense relief you were so grateful for.
"good girl..." he growled. "such a good fucking girl..."
everything went black... but you knew you were safe. you were always safe with your best friend. 
---
the end. hehe
-L xo
383 notes · View notes
shawnxstyles · 10 months
Note
we need a part two when they finish the project please
sweetheart (part 2)
warnings: smut; (f- receiving [fingering, clit stimulation], praise kink, protected sex, slight cock-warming, dirty talk), and tiny fluff
note: i’m soooo sorry i haven’t been as active. once june starts i’ll be able to write more and post more stories, but right now i’m super busy. i have a few fics right now that i’ve started, but haven’t gotten the chance to sit down and finish them. so for now, please accept this blurb 😖 sweetheart part 1
you’ve always had a liking for school, in every aspect. unlike most people, you enjoyed doing homework and projects because it helped you understand the material you were learning. specifically, you adored science. you thought that the facts and what-ifs of the universe were fascinating, and you wouldn’t mind spending your whole life experimenting to discover new things. you absolutely loved chemistry and found it fun to analyze different equations to see what substance creates which reaction.
but right now, you’ve never hated science more.
peter is sitting on his computer typing away on the essay portion while you’re trying to focus on writing the poster. in all honesty, he gave you the easier job and you’re grateful, but you can’t seem to focus. not after he had his warm mouth on your pussy only two hours ago. every few moments, you would peek at peter’s fingers typing. you were getting so desperate to the point that each word he typed sent a tingle down your belly. when you two made light conversation, you swear his voice got a little deeper each time, and the rumbly rasp nearly sent you flying onto his lap.
“y/n, did you hear me?” you did not hear him.
“huh?” you blinked a few times, shaking all your dirty thoughts of his fingers from you. but they looked so rough and they moved so quickly, just like they did in you—
“are you okay?” no, you were not okay.
“uh, yeah, i’m fine,” you lied because you just wanted to finish the project, so peter could withhold his promise. that promise was the only thing getting you through this poster. there seemed to be a million facts and a lot of diagrams.
“what’d i say about lying?” peter asked with a head tilt and an octave-lower voice, his fingers halting on the keyboard. your heart skipped an erratic beat and your pencil dropped onto the poster paper.
“d-don’t do it.”
“good, you remembered,” he smirked subtly before typing away again. you take shallow breaths, wondering how he takes away your breath so easily.
the pulsing need of your clit and the burning of your stomach keep you from focusing. after ten minutes of hazily writing and sketching nonsense, you swallow your fear.
“peter, i was wondering if…we could take a break?” you suggested, pencil spinning around your anxious finger.
“sure, that sounds good,” he replies, but not the way you wanted him to. you watch as he saves his progress and closes his computer before walking around the kitchen island. he grabs two cups of water and hands one over to you when you appear at his side.
“oh, i’m not thirsty,” you smile to deny his offer.
“but you will be,” peter says nonchalantly before taking a smooth sip of his water. you feel the all-too familiar blush cascade across your neck as your eyes wander around the floor.
“are you all shy now? you didn’t seem to be when you were checking me out earlier,” peter taunts with a fake-innocent smile and places his glass on the counter. your eyes go wide for a moment, embarrassed that you were caught. “what? you didn’t think i saw you looking at me like you were going to jump on me? i know needy eyes when i see them, baby.”
the overwhelming heat of your skin fogs up your brain, making it impossible to focus on anything but the words leaving his lips. you’re silently begging him to touch you, to mend that ache in your cunt with his rough fingers. and hopefully, his cock. god, you want to see and feel his cock more than anything. you bet it would stretch you out for a whole week.
you swear you’re not normally like this.
“something’s on your mind,” peter observes with squinted eyes and a hand under his chin. “what is it?”
oh, just the idea of you fucking me into oblivion that’s all is what you wanted to say, but of course you didn’t. you mumbled out some gibberish that he couldn’t understand.
“i can’t hear you, sweetheart,” his words were so condescending, and in some twisted way, it turned you on so much.
“your promise,” you finally said, looking at his eyes. with each passing moment they grew from brown to shades darker.
“oh, i see,” peter tsks, “please, remind me what my promise was again? i seem to have forgotten.”
peter just loves games. especially the ones where he can feel your skin radiating fiery heat and watch your body squirm in its place. like he has all night, he’s been able to smell your arousal throughout the two hours you’ve been working. it utterly killed him to sit steady and type some scientific essay that wasn’t nearly as entertaining as your moans or ogasmic face. it was even worse knowing that you were just as desperate, but most likely didn’t want to interrupt your guys’ work time. what an angel you were.
but right now, peter’s never wanted to do more sinful things.
“you said…” how does he say such dirty words with ease? “you said we could continue what we were doing earlier.”
you lean your back against the counter, heart beating erratically in your chest as you try to remain cool. but your entire body was on fire and your clit was throbbing in your soaked underwear, so it was pretty difficult to stay focused.
“and what was that? use your words,” peter softly demands, licking his lips smugly. a never-ending heat cascades through your body, making your heart beat faster than ever. you breathe in, trying to get the courage to be so upfront.
“you said you would…fuck me,” you surprised yourself when you said the words. they sounded even bolder than you would have thought. every little moment he doesn’t say anything makes you think he’s just going to laugh at you. at this point, you think you’ve gone insane because you can no longer feel your heart beating. just the impending silence dangling between you two.
“good girl. now i remember,” peter smiles proudly and inches his way closer to you. his hand snakes up your neck and caresses your jaw. his thumb plays innocently with your bottom lip as your trembling breath huffs out. he could do whatever he wanted to you, and you would let him. “it wouldn’t be very nice if i didn’t keep my promise, would it?”
“no,” you waver out. your legs are stiffened together and your eyes are straining on his every move.
peter solely smirks before leaning down to kiss you. like the movies, his kiss is soft and pleasant. the way your lips molded together caused such an intense chemical reaction, and you would love to experiment on it. multiple times. every day. you would kiss him as many times as you could. you never would forget the magnetic feeling of his lips on yours.
your hands get lost in his brown hair, twisting their way through his ends. you’re so lost within his kiss that you didn’t even comprehend when he said “jump,” but you subconsciously listened and leaped into his hold. peter carried you to his bedroom, which you have been dying to see since you walked through the door. you believed someone’s bedroom said a lot about them.
however, you were too focused on other things to analyze peter’s bedroom. peter delicately lays you onto his black sheets, still kissing you like the world is ending. he slowly makes his way down your warm neck as you hum at the feeling. knowing what’s coming, you don’t wait for peter to ask permission behind discarding your own shirt. you close your eyes and tell yourself to not be self-conscious. he’s already seen you naked, so why be nervous?
seeing this, peter frowns slightly. his rough fingertip taps lightly on your temple. “open. wanna see your pretty eyes.”
your stomach tingles at his words before obeying his request. instead of smirking, peter smiles goofily and then kisses your cheek. a wave of warmth erupts through your skin at his affection. your entire body was covered in flames at this point, and you wondered if you would even be alive to get to the good part.
his tough hands roam your supple skin in hopes of exploring every inch. the rough texture left tingles in its trail.
“jeans?” he asks, looking up at you for approval.
“yes. please, peter,” you rushed and pleaded. your clit was begging for some friction, and you were about to start crying if you didn’t get something.
“gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart,” peter sang, thumbs rubbing the supple skin of your inner thighs teasingly. you wavered out a shaky breath, trying to conjure up the words.
“i need you so bad it hurts,” you whimpered. you were honest with peter, but your words weren’t what he wanted.
“i bet it does, baby. but that’s not what i asked,” peter flicks your clit through your underwear causing you to gasp at this unexpected movement. your thighs twitch and tighten at his teasing. he does it a few more times, just to get your body even more excited, and to get you to finally speak up.
“f-fuck! peter, i need your cock. i-i need you to fuck me,” you shouted, louder than you intended, but that was even better for peter.
“look who’s using her words,” peter says smugly, making your roll your eyes. you both assist in shrugging your panties off, making you completely naked while peter is still fully dressed. you reach for his shirt, but he’s already a step ahead of you and pulls it off himself.
when you see his body, you swear you almost faint. peter had six bulky packs of muscle on his abdomen and lumps of muscle on his arms. his chest was buff and tight, yet looked soft all at the same time. you had to blink a few times to make sure he was real. you even poked a finger at his stomach just to make sure it didn’t go through him like a ghost or a hologram. peter chuckles at your antics before grabbing your hand and kissing it, just like he had done earlier in the evening. and just like earlier, you felt yourself blush profusely and feel tingly all over again.
while you’re smiling like a goof, peter’s hands resume on your body. you instantly stop smiling because you remembered just how much he’s deprived you. but he’s also given you more than anyone else has in the past…
his digits caress your soaking slit between your crossed legs. you gasp because he’s finally touching you bare.
“open,” he demands softly, voice deep and lustful. shakily, you listen and do so. peter doesn’t hesitate to find your lips again with his fingers.
you quietly moan at the delicate pressure, feeling the smallest bit of friction. just as you were about to beg him for more, or to hurry up, his middle finger slips inside of you. it was almost embarrassing how easy it was. the amount of wetness you were leaking could fix the california drought.
“god, you’re so wet. what made you like this?” peter slowly pushed his finger in and out, thumb circling your puffy clit at the same time.
“you, peter! fuck,” you clenched around his digit, needing release already.
“are you thinking about my cock? hmm?” peter questioned, voice gravely as he leans over you. “are you thinking about me inside of you? thinking about how much i’m going to stretch your little pussy out?”
you groan at his foul language, pulsing barbarically. you’re straining to keep your eyes open, trying to obey his earlier request and to intake the moment. peter urges you to come, increasing his thrusts and pace. before you know it, your core is tightening and you’re squeezing peter’s fingers until you do. you thought you cut off his circulation from how hard you were clutching onto him, but when he pulls his fingers away and licks them proudly, you knew he was just fine.
“taste so good, sweetheart,” a smirk dances upon his lips as your taste lingers in his mouth. he’ll never forget that taste, no matter what happens after tonight. he’s hoping there will be more nights like these. more days too.
“can you please fuck me now, peter?–”
he holds up a finger to your lips.
“all of a sudden you know how to use your words and it still sounds so dirty coming from your pretty lips.”
in the blink of an eye, peter is reaching over to his night stand to grab a condom (hopefully). when you see the tinfoil wrapping, he stuffs it between your teeth, making you hold onto it. you then watch as he undresses his pants, clearly taking all the time in the world like he has it.
the smell of your orgasm and your wetness is haunting peter’s senses. the scent of you is never going to rid from his body or his room. he also doesn’t ever want you to leave, so he’s going to drag this out as long as possible.
once his pants are finally off, you get the courage to undo the wrapper while he’s taking his underwear off. holding the condom, you almost drop it once you see his length. he’s big, bigger than you’ve ever had. the tip of cock is bright red and leaking a bit of pre-cum, clearly just as desperate as you.
“fuck,” you mumble when looking at him. all he does is smirk before taking the condom from your hand and putting it over himself. peter leans over you again, face over face.
“ready, sweetheart?” his smirk lingers while you clench around nothing. you can feel the overwhelming sensation of your clit throbbing and you just want him to mend it. “ready to be fucked so hard you can’t leave?”
“yes, peter. fuck me hard.”
with your final words, peter is gently sinking into you. your wet folds encompass his cock snuggly causing you both to groan in delight. after a few moments, he starts to rock his body and you release a string of moans with every thrust. you try your hardest to keep your eyes open, but fail to do so. the sensations are indescribable throughout your body.
peter’s actions get harder, rougher. just like you wanted. he’s flicking his hips into yours with skilled movements while his face is relaxing in the crease of your neck. you feel his warm breath on you as he groans into your ear, lighting your whole body on fire.
“shit, peter, it feels so good. don’t stop,” you whine when he hits a certain part inside of you. your hand creeps down in between you both to rub the ache in your clit, but peter stops you.
“love when you touch yourself,” he grunts, never halting his movements, “but that’s my job right now.”
so, peter begins harshing rubbing your clit to no end. instead, your hands squeeze tightly on his biceps while he pounds into you so hard, you see stars. your never-ending wetness makes it so easy for him to slip in and out.
you feel yourself clutch onto his cock and when he moans, he sounded like the best thing you’ve ever heard.
“i-i love when you moan,” you croaked out, feeling too blissful to speak coherently.
“yeah? what else do you like?” peter huffs out, still smug as ever, even when he’s deep inside of you.
“l-love when you talk dirty, peter.”
“knew you were fucking filthy.”
with his rough words, you’re on the brink of your orgasm. your core tightens like it did earlier and your nails are digging deliciously into his skin. peter hisses in pleasurable pain, loving what you’re doing to him.
as your orgasm flows over you, your heart beats a million miles an hour and your breathing becomes staggered. the moans you elicit were just as filthy and pornographic as…well a porno. as you came, peter was smiling the whole time.
peter twitched inside of you and that’s when you knew he was close. you tangled your hands in his hair one last time and gave a single tug. that simple movement caused him to groan deeply and bring him to his release.
he doesn’t pull out quite yet. he just rests inside of you with his head on your chest. then after a few moments, he goes to get up.
“don’t leave,” you whisper and slide your hand through his locks again.
“it’s my place, baby, i’m not leaving,” he chuckles and slowly pulls out. you whimper at the loss of his cock, and at the feeling of being stretched out to the max.
“peter, i think you ruined me,” your voice cracked because it was hoarse and dry. you definitely needed some water now.
“good. are you thirsty now, sweetheart?”
tags: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @raajali3
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equalheart · 1 year
Text
his hoodie
𓆩♡𓆪 — tasm!peter x gn!reader (but could also be any peter!), fluff (like ew cutesy type of fluff), established relationship, kinda suggestive-y joke?
“Are you really wearing my hoodie right now?” Peter can’t hold back his smile when you come down the stairs. You’re wearing his zip up with some shorts, and one of your t-shirts underneath—something so simple yet he can’t stop staring. “Yeah, is there a problem?”
He chuckles at your teasing tone. “No.. no problem at all. I really like it” he stutters over himself while wrapping one arm around your waist, and you don’t hesitate to put your arms around his broad shoulders. “I really like it too.” you smile as he leans into a kiss, smiling inbetween.
He hums “you should wear my clothes more often, you look great.” You pull entirely off of him. “I don’t look great always?” You fake a scoff and turn around. “Hey, hey, woah. We both know you look great always. Maybe my clothes make you look extra great. Seeing you in them makes me feel great.” You turn, notice a tint to his cheeks and he grabs your waist again. Your hands sit on his chest.
“Let me make you feel extra great.” You mutter on his lips, leaning into another kiss.
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liz-allyn · 1 year
Text
sugar and vice, pt 1 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]
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summary: I have a meet-cute in a coffee shop. but for mob!peter.
words: 5.5k
warnings: Shameless TASM mob!daddy Peter fantasies, including, but not limited to, kidnapping, knives, bang bang shoot shoot, pining, eventual smut
Part 1
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“Just a coffee, black. Biggest ya got.”
Wearily, yet still wired, Peter tapped his fingers on the stainless steel counter. It was late. Or early. Streetlamps still blazed in unholy darkness outside. It had been a long night. But he had felt like he’d been up for years. 
Across from him, a young woman wearing overalls and a daisy-yellow bandana gave him a heavy nod. “Sure,” she replied, gravely. “I have to warn you, though. We over-roast our beans. It’s bitter as hell.”
He blinked at her, not expecting such honesty. She had a trusting face. Pretty eyes. 
“Ya wanna sweeten it up for me?”
He could hear the lame pickup line of a younger version of himself. One that wore a confident smirk, walked with bravado. One that hadn’t lost what he had lost. The older Peter of today brushed that voice away. “I like bitter.”
He glanced up at her eyes and saw sympathy. “Oof, tragic,” she frowned, shaking her head teasingly, her coyness peeking through. She retrieved a paper cup and filled the dark liquid to the brim. 
The personalness of it threw him off. Peter had wandered in like a zombie. He only briefly heard her ask for his order and his name, both of which he gave, and he expected nothing in return but the coffee. He watched her carefully, shifting uncomfortably. He was the only customer in the shop at this hour, but he didn’t expect to be seen. 
“Here you go,” she declared, handing the cup over. “One large black graveyard dirt, extra tears.”
It wasn’t so much the joke, rather the way she beamed when she said it. It was like sunlight peeking through the curtains just right, casting a familiar space in an ethereal glow. 
She glowed.
Seeing it awakened his senses. He felt the way flowers must feel, desperately reaching their petals out toward the sun after they’d been neglected through a long, dark winter. 
Before he knew it, he was smiling back. Teeth bared, eyes crinkled, grinning like a fool. He thought his muscles couldn’t remember what smiling felt like. It ached.
She reached out, extending the cup towards him. But it was so much more than that.
His gaze darted from her sparkling eyes, to the curve of her mouth, back to the apples of her cheeks—
“Thanks for stopping by, Ben!”
The illusion vanished, as did his smile. He pulled away, staring at the stainless steel countertop for a moment. He thanked her and took the cup from her hand, dropping a couple of bucks in the jar. He didn’t spare her another glance as he turned on his heel. 
For a moment there, he felt free. He’d forgotten what he was underneath the leather gloves, thick cashmere coat, the bitter coffee, and the fake name.
His hand found the door, the winter chill penetrating his glove. Just as he began to push it open, he heard a shout.
“Wait!” 
He did, glancing back at her, against his better judgment.
“I forgot to tell you,” she said, almost shrinking into herself with a sheepish expression. She blushed at the eagerness and volume of her own voice. “To have a great day.”
He blinked, brow creased.
“It’s, uh, sorry— it’s stupid,” she rolled her eyes, slapping her palm across her forehead. “But I’m… I’m supposed to say ‘have a great day’ and I always forget, maybe ‘cos I’m a little ADHD, and my boss always reminds me that I need to say it every time, but that’s awkward, right? Like it needs to come up in conversation, I can’t just blurt it. I mean, I can. Like, I just did. But that was weird, right? It was weird. And sometimes, I’m thinking about the next 3 things I have to do, or the thing I just did and I get… I don’t know, a little lost in the moment, and then it passes, and then I felt like I missed out, y’know?”
He stared. “No?”
“On saying what I want really to say,” she said with a voice full of warmth—gentle and genuine in tone. Her babbling ceased as she emphatically declared. “I really hope you have a great day. You deserve it.”
There it was again. That smile. Sincerity and kindness sliced through him like a razor. He was a child again, getting a kiss on the cheek from his mother. Her cheerful gaze lit him up inside, like setting off a roman candle beneath his ribs. It wrapped him in a firm embrace, filling him, shielding him, and grounding him all at once.
This time, he couldn't look away. Didn't want to. He waited until he could hear the flutter in her heart. He was smiling again.
“Thank you. I think I will.”
And as if she’d cast some sort of spell, he did. The way she enchanted him, he was certain if they lived 400 years ago they might accuse her of witchcraft. He always had a good day when he saw her. No matter how painful, or dirty, or bloody. She became his good luck charm. His ability to ‘have a good day’ became entirely dependent on seeing her.
He shouldn’t go back there. He should try the Starbucks down the street. But he couldn’t help it.
She’d pour him basic drip coffee, announcing aloud to the whole shop as she handed it to him. “Here you go! Extra large, extra-hot dark roast, with extra-darkness and a splash of angst.” There was affection in her gaze despite the sarcasm of her voice.
“One extra large coffee, black as the devil’s soul.” She’d whisper to him privately, gifting him with a good-luck smile, even when the coffee shop was full of people during the morning rush. In those moments, she made him feel like they were the last two people on the planet. And it always made something in his belly flutter.
“I have an extra-black ‘Fault in Our Stars,’ with a shot of ‘The Road’ for my friend in the suit!” 
Her friend. He couldn’t help but blush. How could he come to this place every day, stand in line, and feel like he was coming home? She was magic.
The coffee really was awful.
“Let me know if you ever want me to sweeten that up for you,” she graciously suggested, as the cup left her fingers. The brush of her fingertips against his felt like wildfire. Her comment was innocent, but his mind wasn’t. “I think I can make it taste better—I have some window cleaner left.”
He was smiling again. It blossoms into something reciprocal. That should be enough. He shouldn’t be greedy. He should walk away now. He should run. 
“What would you suggest?” he asked coyly. It was the first time he had ever done so.
A million saccharine-infused terms of endearment flowed through his mind—sweetness, sugar, gumdrop, sweetheart, sweetie, cookie, peach, muffin, angelcake—most of them were trash. (Really, Parker? What is this, high school? Whaddya doin’? You ever talk to a woman before? Why do you sound like somebody’s grandpa? Such a creepy —
Some of them weren’t appropriate between friends. None of them appropriate coming from a stranger.
That’s what he was, deep down. God, this precious girl—she was so trusting. Was she friendly like this with everyone? No, he had noticed as time went on. She’s warm and kind to everyone she meets. But not like this. Not the way she is for him.
“Ooh, getting adventurous, are we?” she teased him, stars in her eyes. 
For him. All he could do was stare back in awe at the Milky Way in her gaze. He would follow them and venture on any journey where they may lead.
“How do you feel about lavender and honey?”
Flowers and sugar for Brits and fancy people. He quirked his brow at the concept. “In coffee?”
Her eyes twinkled with excitement, as she spun around and began her concoction. 
For him.
He needed to leave. But he followed the length of her arms, the delicacy of her fingers, the way her hips moved as she danced around her workstation. He was hypnotized again. 
He imagined dancing with her. Letting her body flow and wrap around his like curtains billowing in the breeze. He barely registered that she was holding a new cup out toward him. While he was daydreaming, she had written his name on the cup and drew a little heart next to it.
He stared at it. It’s not exactly his name. But it’s the one he’d given her. And in return, she had given him so much.
He took the cup from her hand and couldn’t help but feel like he was undeserving of her kindness. Or her attention. Or her heart.
“Don’t make that face,” she softly admonished as if she could read his mind, or she might have read his sad look as disproval of her efforts. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”
She gave him a smile. She gave and gave and gave. Gave him a reason to keep living. She didn’t even know.
He took a sip. It warmed his tongue, his throat, his heart. It ached.
“S’good,” he hummed, honestly surprised. He was telling her the truth. He reached for his wallet with his free hand, retrieving a wad of bills. He always paid in cash.
She waved him off, mock offense on her face. “No, silly. That’s not how gifts work!” Her laugh sounded like church bells. 
She was a gift. For him. His flower. His Honey.
“This one’s on the house,” she assured him, as he hesitantly lowered his wallet. She whispered low, in a tone that burned him up inside. “It’ll be our secret.” His mind felt like it was rebooting. She said it innocently, but he was anything but. She scoffed with a flippant laugh, “Just don’t tell my boss, okay?”
Her boss. He knew about her boss. Tod. With one ‘D’. 
Some mornings, particularly Monday through Thursday, he’d see the pencil-like man stiffly pacing the back of the bar while she and another young girl kept up with demand. Hawkish eyes, always watching. Always judging. Rarely picking up a milk jug himself.
He dominated the register. Peter hated handing him cash. His face reminded him of a cheese grater if it could look unhappy. “Are you sure you don’t want a pastry?” he offered the ‘add-on’ with what was supposed to be a smile. 
Peter’s eyes shot over to his Honey as she was artfully pouring foam, adding her magic to someone else’s cup. She refused to look at Peter and he hated it. It reminded him of a defense tactic. Don’t look at the thing you don’t want to be taken away. As if he was a prized possession that she wanted to hide away from Tod, who might accuse her of having ‘favorites.’
It stirred wild emotions to be thought of that way, especially by her. 
How dare her boss accuse her of any wrongdoing. How dare he threaten her.
“I’m fine,” said Peter, with a chill he hoped Tod could feel. 
He needed to leave. 
He needed to take his Honey and his Lavender Latte and just go. 
He shook his head. His brain was lagging again. He turned away from the straight-backed scarecrow before a robotic ‘thank you for being a customer’ could be responded to. 
Peter waited. Eyes on the floor. Eyes on the exit. Eyes on the windows. Eyes on her, but only briefly. He waited and daydreamed bitterly, waiting for her to call out a name that wasn’t his. 
“Honey Lavender Latte,” his enchantress called out. Hearing her voice caught him from his downward spiral. He made eye contact with her as he took the cup from her hands. Warmth radiated from her eyes, although muted. It was enough to soothe and comfort him. 
She blushed, sheepishly, unable to contain the smile in her voice. “Have a lavender-ly day.”
His mood lifted. Such a silly girl. Witchcraft, indeed. “Thanks, Honey,” he replied, without thinking.
Her big eyes widened for a moment, and her heart quickened. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked away, unsuccessfully hiding her teeth.
Peter would call her that a million times in a row if it would elicit that reaction.
“Have a great day,” Tod interrupted, murdering the moment.
Poor girl. She cowered slightly, like a dog hearing the word ‘no.’ She took a breath and put on a smile, turning back towards her work. 
Tough girl. She didn’t need Peter to defend her. 
He glanced over at Tod with a deadpan expression, and walked out of the shop before he did or said anything else stupid.
The world was full of Tods. It was also full of monsters. Sometimes Peter was one of them. No Tod was truly worth his attention.
Except for that one time. 
A Tuesday morning in the middle of the holiday shopping season. Peter stood in line patiently, arms crossed, gritting his teeth. He glowered behind the bar at Tod, standing too close to his Honey. She gazed up at her boss helplessly, watching him turn red in the face, as the flagpole of a man waved his arms wildly. Clearly agitated, he kept his volume low but his body language screamed at her. 
“What I need your help with is this,” Tod hissed as he towered over her. “I need you to tell me what is the best method for getting information into your head. How can I communicate with you in a way that you’ll understand?” His voice was soft although he flailed like a wavy-arm inflatable man in a car lot. 
“Tell me honestly,” he sneered, dressing her down in front of a line of customers. At this point, Peter didn’t need any superpowers to be able to hear the conversation. She visibly fought the urge to cry. “Do I need to write it down? Do I need to scream at you? Do I need to throw something? Do I need to take you aside and have an hour-long conversation?” She kept her eyes on the ground as he kept pelting her with icicles. “Tell me your preference here. What is it that you’ll respond to?”
The scene came to an abrupt end when the glass of the shop window shattered. The sound silenced him finally. The front door swayed limply, having been yanked off its hinges and slammed into its frame. His Honey glanced around the shop with concern. 
Peter was no longer there.
He didn’t come back that day. 
Neither did Tod.
Some sort of accident, his Honey told him the following week, although he already knew the details. She explained to him why the shop had a new manager, a well-composed woman named Leyla. By the airiness of her mood, he could tell she greatly preferred Leyla’s managerial style.
She was happy, and that made him happy. 
And that should be enough. 
He should leave. He should run. Get as far away from her as possible.
But he was intoxicated by her. Drunk on her sweetness and her Honey Lavender Lattes.
He looked at her like she was the queen of the hive. He’d let her take that crown, any anything else she could ever want, if he had the chance. He’d worship her. He already looked at her like she was a goddess. The devotion in his honey-tinted eyes was clear to anyone who bothered to look.
“Peter Parker!”
Hearing his real name while he stood grinning like a fool in front of his Honey one afternoon made him flinch, sending a shiver up his spine. He turned around, yanked from his reverie, watching three men stroll into the shop. 
He positioned his body in front of her, obscuring her from their view. His hands were tight balls at his sides.
Peter was familiar with two of the faces, but razor-sharp focused on the mountain in a suit they called Filch. He’d seen that greasy face more times than he’d want to admit, shrouded in darkness and cigar smoke. Seated at the hand of Wilson Fisk.
His jaw locked in place.
Filch looked overjoyed to see him. Like they were old friends. Like Peter didn’t know that Wilson Fisk was plotting to move against him. 
“I thought that was you!” he brightly exclaimed. He strolled through the shop, like a cheetah stalking prey. Removing a hat and revealing what little hair he had left underneath. “Long way from Queens. Fancy finding ya all the way out here, eh?”
Peter knew better. The only surprise in this situation was intended for Peter. He’d been followed here. Watched.
His spine went rigid, shoulders into stone. 
Don’t look at the thing you don’t want to be taken away.
He could hear her heart flutter faster behind him. As if she could sense the way he bristled when they arrived. Trouble in her kingdom. A disturbance to the delicate sanctuary she had built, like all of her totems and protection spells were wearing out.
Peter kept his back to her. He kept his eyes trained on the three men, who spread out in a familiar pattern. They were scoping the place. Checking for cameras, other patrons, and all possible exits. 
Don’t look at the thing you want—
“Hey, Sugar, it’s cold outside,” Filch called out, with all the grace of flagging down a hooker. “Whaddya got to warm us up?”
Peter stared straight ahead. Glaring. Fuming.
“Might I suggest the coffee?” his Honey answered. “Just made a fresh pot of the dark roast. It’s good.”
He might have cracked a smile if he wasn’t busy envisioning a scenario where he’d have to kill the three men in the room with just the tools available in a coffee shop.
“Pour me a cuppa that,” Filch replied, his eyes never leaving Peter’s.
Peter only slightly relaxed when he felt her presence back away behind the bar. She grabbed a paper cup and filled it with steaming-hot tar. She set the cup down on the counter and backed away, minding her workstation. “That’ll be $2.50.”
Good girl, Peter thought. He saw Filch go for his breast pocket. 
“I gotcha,” Peter cut in before Filch could move closer. He grabbed the cup and handed it over to his rival’s lapdog. “‘S’on me.”
Filch eyed Peter cautiously, reaching out where both hands could be visible. He took the cup with exaggerated gratitude. “No, I couldn’t possibly—”
“I said I gotcha,” Peter firmly cut him off, the cords in his neck going tight. Peter retrieved a few bills from his coat pocket, never breaking eye contact with his opponents. “We good here?” 
Too many seconds passed with no response. He could feel the twitch of his pulse in his throat. Filch’s eyes drifted back behind the counter. He was too close to her. He studied her in a way that was far too intimate. It made Peter’s skin crawl.
“We’re good,” Filch replied. A smile curved his lips. He held the cup up, toasting him. “Have a great day.” 
Peter swallowed hard as the three men sauntered out. He watched them go, his stomach sinking, bile rising. 
They’d been watching him alright. Who knows how long. He’d been a patron of this shop and he would order from this girl and stare at her with doe-eyes and hearts swirling around his head, out in the open where anyone could see. And they did see. He showed his hand and now the game was over.
“Who’s Peter?” he heard her voice softly ask. 
The illusion was shattered. He turned his head, but couldn’t bear to look at her. He felt sick. Empty. Furious. Petrified.
The monsters were gone now. But they’d be back.
“I’m sorry,” was all he could say, as he walked out of the door.
They’d be back. He’d be there first.
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She watched her favorite customer disappear into the night, her eyes wide with longing as she followed him. He disappeared in a few blinks of her eyes.
Something unsettling crawled beneath her skin. Maybe it was longing, but she was familiar with longing. This was new.
Her hands were shaking and she wasn’t sure how that happened either. One minute she was staring into his dreamy, honey-hued eyes, then the next he was running in the other direction. Not unlike their first meeting, a scene which she replayed over and over again in her head, trying to figure out what made him go so rigid.
Who’s Peter?
Peter Parker.
Peter Parker.
She repeated his name in her mind, reciting it like a mantra. She wasn’t great with names, but he told her his name was Ben on that first morning so many months ago, and she made a point to remember his name, and to say his name, because people liked it when you said their name, it made them feel closer to you and she wanted more than anything to be close to him.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Her wheels were spinning again. She used her thumb to push down hard on the center of her opposite palm. The dull pain grounded her back to reality. 
When she opened her eyes, she half expected him to be there. He always seemed to show up when she least expected it. He was a bright spot in her day, despite his gloomy demeanor. He could be dark as a raincloud, but she loved dancing in the rain. 
Or as her co-worker Nasrin teased her one day, he was her “tall, dark, hot cup of coffee.” She hid her face in her hands as Nasrin got to the “sucking him down with a straw” part of the analogy. She was incredibly grateful that he had been standing by the door, and there’s no way he could’ve heard that.
Now she had a first name and a last name and a... another name? And a place — you’re a long way away from Queens. A quick Google search of the names in question pulled up too many generic results. There was a dated article about a Ben Parker who was killed in an armed robbery, but her tall, dark friend couldn’t have had anything to do with that.
It twisted her stomach when she considered the fact that she really didn’t know him. She didn’t know who those guys were, and by the looks of things, she didn’t want to know. She should just drop it.
She did the best she could to keep busy, but there weren’t any more customers after that. She sent a quick text to her new manager that she wasn’t feeling well, and closed the shop early. She took the subway home. 
Once she got on the train, she didn’t make it back to the platform. It was late, but the subway car was still unusually empty, save for a couple of randos sitting at the opposite end of her car. Any other night, the near-solitude would’ve been a blessing. Tonight, something felt off.
Twenty minutes into her ride, just as the train was about to cross the river, it jerkily slowed to a stop. Her cessation of movement stirred her. Her head popped up from the glow of her phone screen curiously. She worried her lower lip as she glanced at the doors and windows, as if she could somehow see whatever it was that was stopping the train. 
She jolted as she felt a hand clamp down on her upper arm. Startled, she looked up at the two other occupants of the train car, now standing inches behind her. Two men that had been seated quietly, also seemingly distracted by their phones. 
“Come on, sweetie pie,” one of them said, towering over her. “It’s time to go.” She didn’t recognize either of them, but her instincts reminded her of the altercation in the coffee shop. These two had the same ‘goonlike’ look.
She tried wrenching her arm away, but the stranger held tight. “Get off,” she hissed. His partner on the left took her other arm, albeit more gently.
“Hey, take it easy,” the other man admonished. “No need to be rude.”
“Yeah, we’re friends,” the first man added, with a greasy smile. Her eyes darted around frantically. Panic set in as she realized she was alone in the subway car. The doors slid open, but there was no platform. Instead, the doors opened to building rooftops. The train had stopped on an elevated track above the street.
“Let’s go,” the gruffer man beckoned, grabbing her arm more tightly. He dragged her through the doorway, on a dark walkway next to the tracks. As soon as he lifted her, she erupted into a fit of screams. She kicked her legs, shrieking for help, but no reply came. She didn’t know if no one could hear her, or if people knew better not to respond.
“Keep it down,” one of the goons ordered coldly, dragging her along. She desperately resisted, letting her legs drop out beneath her. 
She heard a hiss and pop as the subway train sprang back to life behind them. She watched helplessly as it pulled away. 
“A wild one, aren’cha?” the red-haired roughneck tutted, yanking her back up to her feet. “Be a good girl or I’ll throw ya over my shoulder.”
She tried jerking away again, but halted as she faced the edge of the walkway. The dizzying height stunned her into submission. Her knees began to lock up, trembling with fear. 
“Take it easy, Katz,” the man’s partner chided him, albeit insincerely. The two of them practically carried her down the walkway. “You’re scarin’ her.” 
They arrived at an old set of metal stairs leading to the street below. The sharp, steep grade of the steps made her vertigo even worse. 
“No, help! Somebody help!” she hollered, wrapping her fingers in a death grip around the banisters and anything else she could reach. 
“Keep your mouth shut!” the red-head called Katz snapped at her. He reached around and tried to put his beefy hand on her mouth, but she bit down on his flesh the second his fingers reached her lips.
“Ow!” he roared. “Bitch!”
She saw him rear back his fist. Then she saw nothing.
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When she came to, her whole body ached. Every muscle throbbing, like she’d been twisted into a pretzel. Her eyelashes fluttered open. Flickering flourescents stung her eyes. Bleary, she gazed around in a dreamlike state until her senses slowly started to awaken. 
She tasted glue. And blood. Took heavy humid breaths through her nose. She was on her side, on a concrete floor in a garage she didn’t recognize. The smell of motor oil and cleaning solution stabbed her nostrils. She gazed up at the shadowy, filthy undercarriage of a Rolls Royce lifted high up above her. Loud bangs jarred her out of slumber further. She faintly wondered who would be jackhammering—
Loud pops. Gunfire.
Her body went rigid, then sprung to life in terror. Attempting to open her mouth to scream, she realized that it was taped shut. Even slight movements of her jaw stung her flesh. She tried to sit up. Her arms tingled, like her limbs had fallen asleep. When she tried to move them she felt a sharp sting on her wrists. 
Alarm started to take hold. She couldn’t move her arms or legs. She glanced down and passed her dirty, blood-stained shirt to the duct tape wrapping her ankles. It might as well have been iron. Her wrists were also firmly bound behind her. Trying to pull them on them felt like ripping off her own skin. She whimpered excruciatingly.
The sounds were getting closer. She glanced around, eyes begging for help. Searching frantically for any reprieve amidst the scattered car parts and junk. 
The gunfire was getting closer.
She scooted, inching her way across the floor until she reached a work table. She was lining her spine up against the table leg when the garage door rattled open. She was out of time. A spill of light from outside lamps flooded in, blinding her. She could only vaguely recognized her own shrieks behind the wall of duct tape.
A group of people stood at the garage doors with their backs to the light. She watched their imposing silhouettes with horror.
A tall, male form approached her, his long black coat trailing behind him. Tears that she couldn’t contain sprang from her eyes. She was trapped, terrified, like a rabbit staring down a wolf. All she could focus on was the gun in the man’s hands as he stalked toward her. She squeezed her eyes closed, waiting to hear a final shot that would end her life.
“Easy, easy,” a familiar, deep, and soothing voice rolled over her. “Shh, don’t be scared, Honey.”
Her breath hitched. Eyes popped open.
Crouched down to her eye level was her tall, dark, and bitter friend. Ben—Peter—whatever his name was— the moment she recognized his soft chocolate eyes and the scattering of a peppery beard on his otherwise boyish face, she felt a wave of relief. 
His leather glove still held firmly onto a pistol. The sight of it dropped her back to reality. Like a bucket of ice water being poured over her body. She shuddered as he scooted closer.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he placated with a calm voice. “You’re okay.”
She wanted to believe him. He set his gun down on the concrete floor and reached for her with both hands. Another sound of a distant gunshot made her jolt. She recoiled away from his touch, shrinking herself up against the table leg. 
He flinched at her reaction with a pained expression, as if she’d stabbed him. His hands faltered for a moment.
A man’s voice rang out from the group lingering behind, a youthful tone from someone barely older than a teenager. “Boss, we gotta go!” 
A deeper voice called out in response, “C’mon, Pete. The calvary’s on the way. Get her on her feet! ”
Her eyes widened, tears streaming down her face. He stared back at her, his expression turning grim. She gazed up at her savior to realize that this was no true rescue. 
A sickly feeling crept over her as she put the pieces together. Whatever this was, whatever was happening, whatever had happened to her—it was because of Peter. 
Her tall, dark, and dangerous stranger. He grabbed her by the hips, scooting her closer. She wailed as he scooped her body up in her arms, dizzy with how fast and effortless it seemed. He carried her like a toddler having a tantrum, except she was restrained already. 
Peter said nothing as he carried her out of the garage, barely looking at her, as he marched towards an idling, blacked-out SUV. She barely had time to spot the driver, a gorgeous woman with long silver hair. 
She smirked at her, eyes sinister.
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When the SUV finally came to a halt, all she knew is that they were in an underground parking garage. Her limbs felt heavy, the assault of adrenaline starting to take its toll. Few words were spoken during the car ride, and none to her. Thick tension filled the air.
She was on the floorboard, her cheek pressed up against the carpet. She gazed at the feet of two men seated in the back. One of them was the fresh-faced teenager she heard calling Peter ‘Boss.’ His name was Miles, she had heard. The other was a rugged, haunted-looking man, with large dark eyes fixed on the windows, ever watchful. Miles called him Miguel, before the older man shot him a look to stay quiet.
“That’s the unifying issue with the men in this car,” the woman driving the SUV snarked. “You all talk too much.”
Her heart hammered at the glint of a knife. Miguel opened a switchblade, grabbing her ankles. 
“Whoa, hang on,” Miles talked to her—the first one to do so. “He’s gonna cut the tape, just so you can move your legs, okay?”
She gazed up at his soft dark eyes, her own still welling with tears. She felt the release on her legs give way as she kicked the rest of the tape off.
“Lights out,” a cold, distant voice ordered. The sound came from the front passenger seat, where Peter sat in tense silence.
Both Miles and Miguel seemed to hesitate, glancing at each other.
“You sure?” Miles questioned.
“He didn’t stutter,” the silver-haired woman replied, definitively. There was a bite in her voice, but it carried with it a tiredness filled with frustration. She sounded more like an older sister jabbing a younger sibling.
The woman popped open her door to get out. “Let’s go, boys. We got groceries inside.” 
The world went black again. A dark hood was thrown over her head, obscuring her view. 
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Continue to Part 2
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bradtomlovesya · 1 year
Text
Choices. 1
One: It Has Always Been Her
Peter Parker x reader series
Summary: Everybody forgot who Peter Parker was. All his world tunerd grey until he met you and you started dating. It could have been perfect if it wasn't for the fact that MJ comes back and, surprise! She remembers EVERYTHING.
Warnings: Pure Angst!, some descriptions of sex (+18), swearing, mentions of death.
w/c: 4.2k +
a/n: First chapter of this series. I hope you enjoy it and by "enjoyt it" I mean, cry with me, lol. Likes, reblogs and comments are much appreciate it as always. If you want to be added to my permanent tags there's a link on my masterlist and if you just want to be added for this series tag list you can leave a comment. Gif not mine
Series Masterlist
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"Can I come in?" he asks with his hands in his pockets.
"I don't think that's a good idea" you deny. Your voice comes out in what is little more than a whisper.
"Y/n... please, I just want to talk" he pleads. His gaze is as pleading as a puppy's when he sees that you only have one bite left and you haven't given him any yet.
"I think I need time" you say without looking at him.
~How did I get to this place?~, you wonder. ~How did it all end up so fucked up?~
Maybe we should rewind it so we can understand.
—---------------|°|-------------------
- 8 months earlier -
Second semester of college. You're a nervous wreck, how will your classes be this semester, will you be able to understand everything you need to?
Anxiety invading your body like thousands of electric currents flowing through you. You can calm them, but you can't get rid of them. They are part of you, your anxiety is just trying to keep you safe after all.
You look at the small piece of paper in your hands, it's the only thing you had on hand at the time to write down the room number of your classes after asking the secretary. Of course it was more of a scribble than anything else. The lady was in a hurry, after all.
"Excuse me" you walk up to what appears to be your classroom and there is nothing but a boy sitting in the back. "Sorry, sorry to bother you" you bite your lip, the boy looks up somewhat sheepishly and watches you. "Is this Mr. Anderson's class?" you ask at last.
"You're in the right place" he nods with the warmest, friendliest smile you've ever seen.
Slowly the room begins to fill up, you try to make your way through but fail miserably. It's a buffalo onslaught and you're just a little bunny. The chairs fill up, there aren't many empty seats.
Your eyes meet his again, he's watching you. He tries to tell you something and that's when you see him point to his backpack on the chair next to him. He's saving you a seat.
Your heart slows down, all means you already have a place to sit.
You walk over to him and carefully sit down as he removes his backpack.
"I appreciate it very much, you saved my education" you try to break the ice the only way you know how, by making a little joke.
Luckily his sense of humor is just as strange and you manage to get a chuckle out of him.
"I'm glad I did..." he pauses, waiting for you to tell him your name.
"Y/n, I'm Y/n Y/l/n" you extend your hand in greeting and he takes it without hesitation.
"Peter Parker" The smile never leaves his mouth.
Deep down inside you know you should have met him.... You were never one to believe in coincidences, but you did believe in fate.
Even if this could be your place of peace and your downfall at the same time.
- 7 months earlier -
"You can't tell me you've never seen the star wars movies" Peter denies, a rebellious curl decides down his forehead and distracts you for a second.
That thing he told you about him not being popular at school was hard to believe. Peter was the most interesting, kind, simple, honest and tender person you've ever met. Not to mention that his little freckles, deep-set eyes, chocolate hair and Greek God body made it even more difficult to believe.
You knew he'd had a girlfriend. However, Peter always avoided the subject. He would say that he had broken up with her because they would go to different colleges but only that. You knew it wasn't a subject you should bring up, not if you didn't want Peter's mood to change at the drop of a hat. Not in a bad way, just like his energy would suddenly go out.
"Well you can show them to me now, can't you?" you bite the end of your pen. You were supposed to be 'studying'. To be honest, it was hard for you to concentrate when he was looking at you with that cute smile.
"I think so..." He nods slightly. "Surely you don't want to keep studying?"
"Pretty sure, that's not the only reason I invited you over" You avoid his gaze and a pink tint covers your cheeks. You're embarrassed and Peter knows it. He can hear your heartbeat racing. That would matter to him if it weren't for the fact that his is the same.
"Then let's watch the first movie" He nods. "I like spending time with you."
Your heart melted... Oh, if only you'd left it in the freezer.
- 6 months earlier -
You found out Peter was spiderman by accident, you didn't mean to and neither did he.
You were in his apartment because you had decided you had had enough of hiding your feelings. You liked Peter, a lot. You couldn't go on with the uncertainty anymore, you really hoped he would like you back.
You had the keys to his apartment, you lived in the dorms and your roommate wasn't very quiet, let alone calm, so Peter offered you his apartment to study in during exam season. However, you decided to use the small advantage to prepare something nice for him, something you could confess to.
You prepared a dinner for both of you and put on that skirt that Peter once said he liked because it brought out the color of your eyes.
Everything was ready and would have been perfect had it not been for Peter aka Spiderman. He decided to go out patrolling the neighborhood that night and found himself engaged in a battle that left him breathless. He came out victorious, but more tired than usual, his senses were not very sharp and he allowed himself to enter through the window of his room and remove his mask without realizing that you were already there. Sitting on his bed waiting for him.
"Peter?" you murmur petrified. You definitely weren't expecting this, let alone him.
"Y-Yn? W-What are you doing h-here?" he looks you up and down and stutters. You don't know how to explain it but you still try "I can explain" You look at the mask in his hand.
"You're spiderman" Your gaze is lost. You try to get back to the here and now.
"No!" He exclaims but denies right after. "I mean, yes but-" He's even more nervous than you are.
He didn't want you to know. Having the important people in his life know that he was spiderman brought him nothing but trouble.
More importantly, he didn't want to put you in danger. You, the only good thing he had achieved after all the bad things that had happened exactly 8 months ago.
"Oh wow..." You stand up and your eyes search his. "That explains why you were disappearing without saying where you were going" you sigh in relief "I thought you had a girlfriend I didn't know about or something... this is totally a relief."
"A relief?" now he's the one who's confused. "So bad it was that I had a girlfriend"
"Maybe... a little" you shrug. You came here to be honest and that's what you're trying. Even after the bombshell of information you just got, that doesn't change anything, the reason you came is the same.
"It's good that you're not scared but what are you doing here? As far as I know we didn't arrange to meet, did we?"
"Now the surprise was for both of us" You joke to lighten the mood.
"You're not wrong there" he laughs lightly. "What kind of surprise?" He looks at the pair of candles around you.
"One where I tell you I like you, Peter" you say bravely. You feel proud that you could do it even though your palms are shaking.
"And after this?" His eyes don't leave yours. His heart is beating a mile a minute, he couldn't believe you felt the same way he did even though he was worried about what might happen after you discovered his other side.
"You being Spiderman doesn't change my feelings for you, Peter. I like you and spiderman won't make it any different" You smile at how crazy that sounded. The guy you like is spiderman.
"I like you too" his smile widens and he takes a step towards you.
"Really?" you ask incredulously.
"Totally" he nods and you place your arms around his neck.
You don't know what to say so you choose to do. You move your face and kiss his lips. You really hope he reciprocates and, apparently, your pleas have been heard because he does reciprocate.
Your first kiss, the first of many punishments.
- 5 months earlier -
You know Peter is not someone who opens up easily, actually. You think you're his only friend (now more than friend) at this university.
When he's not with you, he's on patrol, attending his classes or doing homework in the library, which he usually does with you as well.
You are both excellent study partners. Peter, besides being your boyfriend, is your best friend and teacher. He is your person and you are sure that you are his.
However, you were surprised when you asked him why he never talked to you about his past friends or family.
"My parents died years ago. My aunt was my only family member and she died recently and my friends went to college in another state so we lost touch." Was the only thing he answered.
You were dying to know more. You were too curious. You weren't insensitive though and you didn't want to push him to tell you things you knew he wasn't ready to say.
Maybe you should have asked a little more. Maybe about why he ended his last relationship, because you knew he'd had one.
Or why he never talked about it. All of this was an unknown to you.
- 4 months earlier -
You had been dating for two months as an official couple when you both decided to move to the next level in your relationship.
Peter knew you were a virgin and had never done anything with anyone beyond a steamy make out session and you were surprised (and somewhat relieved) to learn that he hadn't either even though he had a girlfriend.
Peter commented that he and MJ had never gone any further, however, he was open to going as fast or as slow as you thought best.
And so it was, when in one of your hectic make out sessions in his small apartment, you ended up with your lips around his cock and the tip of it hitting the back of your throat.
Clearly you both agreed and that wasn't the only thing that happened that night. A few minutes after his cum ran down your throat, your boyfriend knelt on the bed and spread your legs and positioned himself between them.
More than returning the favor, Peter was going crazy over the soaking wetness of your hormones in the big wet patch that inhabited your panties. His arachnid senses were driving him to a point where he found himself drooling to taste you, to devour you as if he hadn't eaten in years.
And, with your consent. Peter wasn't going to stop until the last drop of your fluids was tasted by his tongue.
- 3 months earlier -
And then came your first fight. You were upset with Peter aka spiderman, because he hadn't answered your messages all day after going out on patrol the night before without telling you he had returned home safely.
His excuse was "my phone ran out of battery" but you knew it was a lie because every time you sent him a message, the word "received" appeared and two little popcorns reinforced it.
The messages did arrive. Peter just didn't want to answer them or was too busy to do so. Either way, he was lying to you and that's what bothered you the most.
You already knew he was Spiderman, what else could he be hiding from you? you asked yourself.
What you didn't know was that Peter made a trip to MIT every week to check on Ned and his ex-girlfriend MJ.
It was probably best that you didn't know. Parker wouldn't know how to explain it to you and he didn't want to have to.
You were his girlfriend now, you were practically all he had. But it wasn't easy for him to let go of what he had lost with such regret and he wondered how things would have been if everything hadn't gotten out of control.
And that was the reason why the brown-haired man didn't answer the phone. He couldn't answer it to the present, which was you. As he watched MJ, who was his past, study through the window of one of the libraries.
You were finally able to settle your argument. Peter apologized and said it wouldn't happen again. However, he never gave you a real explanation of what had happened and, since it was the first time, you preferred not to argue and let it go.
You didn't want to pressure him, although perhaps you were being too understanding.
- 2 Months before -
And you finally had your first time. The first time for both of you, together and as individuals.
It was a bit awkward due to your mutual inexperience but once you got the hang of it, you couldn't stop and it became a magical night that neither of you would ever forget.
"I'm glad you were my first time" you heard him murmur in your ear as he moved his index and ring fingers over your arm in a caressing manner.
"I'm glad you were mine" you smiled and left a kiss on his lips. All you wanted was to freeze this moment in time and treasure it forever.
You had had your first time with someone you loved and you knew he wouldn't leave you just because you had already had sex with him.
Peter was a kind and sweet man. He was everything you had always dreamed of in a perfect boyfriend and nothing could ruin the bubble of happiness you both had gotten into.
That night, the hazel-eyed boy couldn't sleep. His thoughts wandered as he watched you sleep and, for the first time since the incident. He allowed himself to be completely happy without feeling guilty about what he had left behind.
For the first time in a long time he allowed himself to feel complete and loved. In addition, he made the decision not to check back on the people of his past. He had to move forward just as they had done and because he had you.
You were now his world and all he wanted was to make you happy and protect you from all evil and danger.
That night. Peter understood that all the love and peace he had lost. Now he had regained them with only one person and that person was you.
It was time to make new friends, enjoy his present and look to the future.
- 1 month earlier -
One night, Peter was kissing your neck while you were sitting on his lap. You slid your hands under his shirt and heard him moan as your fingers brushed against something you didn't know was there.
"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" you asked in a sweet but concerned tone.
"It's okay, I'm fine" He tried to affirm you with one of his smiles but you knew it wasn't right.
"Can I?" You looked him straight in the eye as your hands traced the edge of his shirt. As soon as he nodded, you lifted it up and saw a cut that wasn't there yesterday. "Peter, what happened here?" your voice sounded sad. It was the first time you had seen a cut that size on his abdomen.
"I slipped and fell on a glass. I'm fine, it's not serious, darling" He ran his hand across your cheek and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear.
"It's serious to me" you sighed and looked him in the eyes "Can I help you clean it and bandage it?" You mumbled. The brown-haired man nodded with a slight smile and watched you walk into the bathroom.
Unbeknownst to you, that was the first of many times you helped Peter with his bumps and bruises. Plus, you became his accomplice and his chair girl at the same time.
Now Peter Parker understood that he was not alone, he had you.
- Two weeks before -
You and Peter were at the fair. You had gone through most of the rides, especially the ones that make you throw up, and thought it was time to get something to eat.
"Hot dogs?" you asked as you held his hands in front of you.
"I'm dying for a hot dog" he nodded with a smile and tried to go for them but you stopped him.
"Wait here" you laughed. "Can't a girlfriend treat her boyfriend to a hot dog?" You raised one of your eyebrows.
"Sure she can" the brown guy laughed, grabbed your waist and kissed your lips "don't be too long."
"I won't" you smiled and kissed his lips one last time before walking towards the stall that wasn't too far from there.
Peter smiled as he watched you walk away until a voice called out to him. A voice he hadn't heard in a while.
"Peter?" said MJ behind him. Peter turned and froze not knowing what to say. "Peter it's me, MJ" Michelle took a step towards him. "I remember everything."
Peter's mind began to spin and his heart began to race.
"How?" your boyfriend asked in just a whisper.
"Maybe you were erased from my memory but your stuff wasn't" MJ smiled slightly "the necklace, your pictures and among other things were still in my room at my parents' house" she sighed. "It took me longer than I expected but I told you. I figured it out once, I'll do it again" her eyes were watery.
"You were always so smart" Peter smiled and took another step forward. He knew he shouldn't. You'd be back any minute but the shock and excitement was too strong. "You remember..." peter took her face in his hands.
"I do" she nodded smiling and wiped a tear from Peter's cheek.
Before either of them realized it, their lips were already pressed against each other. MJ remembered. That was all Peter was thinking at that moment and it would have been perfect except you were a few steps away from them, two hot dogs in hand and a completely broken heart as you watched Peter, YOUR Peter, kissing someone else.
- Present day -
"Y/n... please, I just want to talk" he pleads. His gaze is as pleading as a puppy's when he sees that you only have one bite left and you haven't given him any yet.
"I think I need time" you say without looking at him.
"Time? Y/n, please. Let me explain," says the chestnut while holding the door so you don't close it.
"What are you going to explain to me? Why you had your tongue in someone else's mouth while I was watching you?" You stop trying to close the door and look him in the eye.
"It wasn't just anyone" he walks past you and enters your apartment without your permission. "It's MJ."
"Your ex-girlfriend? That's supposed to make me feel better?" your head hurt. You hadn't eaten or slept well for two weeks.
"No, y/n. It's not that" he denies. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, just let me explain." He tries to take your hands but you take a step back.
"You said you were over because she was in another university" you cross your arms.
"That's partly true" he sighs. "A year and a few months ago Mystery revealed my identity to everyone. MJ was my girlfriend at the time and my best friend's name was Ned-" he takes a breath and continues. "I went to doctor strange and asked him to cast a spell but it all went terribly wrong and I-"
"What does this have to do with you kissing your ex?" you frown.
"The point is. Villains from many multiverses showed up and to right my wrong Dr. Strange had to cast a spell making everyone forget who Peter Parker is" he continued.
"Including MJ?" you ask.
"Including MJ" He nods.
"So you broke up because she didn't remember you. Not because you wanted to break up with her" you deduce.
"Yeah and, the night of the fair. MJ showed up and said she remembered everything. I don't know how but I got carried away with my emotions and did something stupid without thinking about anything else-"
"Or anyone else" you interrupt him and dry your tears with the sleeves of your sweater.
"You don't know how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you. I love you more than anything, Y/n" his eyes crystallize.
"But you love her too" your voice cracks. "What do you plan to do now? What's your plan, Peter?"
"I... I don't know" he dries his nose with his arm.
"You love her. You didn't want to leave her." You sob. "Why don't you go back to her then? You can tell you're not over her" you were trying to stay strong but it was practically impossible.
You didn't even understand how you believed his crazy story, but this was Peter we were talking about. Spider-Man in a world where people disappeared for 5 years because a purple alien had snapped his fingers using the infinity gems. It wasn't too crazy to believe that everyone forgot who Peter Parker was.
"I am over her. I decided to stop watching her the first time we- we slept together" he whispers in a sigh.
"When?" you frown. "What?" you analyze word for word what he said "You decided to stop watching her? What the fuck does that mean?" Now more than hurt, you were confused and annoyed.
"I-. I used to go to her college and watch her and Ned just to see how they were doing and to make sure nothing bad happened to them." He tries to explain. "One of those times I forgot to text you and told you my phone was out of battery." He swallows.
"I knew you lied to me, Peter. You were never good at lying," you sob. "But I never believed you were watching your ex all this time" you sit back on the couch. You are weak, as weak as someone famished. "I thought we were both 100% in this relationship but you kept clinging to the past" your vision is blurry, you don't know if from tears or lack of sleep.
"I know I should have been honest. I shouldn't have lied to you. I should have trusted you with my thoughts and feelings... it's just not easy for me" he sits down next to you and his hand rests on your knee.
"So what are you doing here then, Parker?" you use his last name. You're being serious and he knows it. Although, if he's bothered by your name calling, he doesn't say so. "It's more than clear that you've been waiting for this moment for a long time. Why don't you go with her? I can't compete with that, I never could." Your eyes watch the tile and you just hope you don't faint. It all feels so overwhelming.
"It's not about competing. It's not a competition, love." The endearing nickname leaves his lips but doesn't give you butterflies this time.
"Of course it's about competing! What was me? Your consolation prize?" You look him in the eye. He can't hold your gaze, he knows he did too much damage. "You settled for me just because you couldn't have her? Well congratulations, your pleas have been heard. Now get the hell out of my apartment!" You raise your voice and get up from the couch. You are upset with him but with you more than anyone else for allowing yourself to love him without first asking more questions and pressing for an answer.
"Y/n please...don't say those things. You know I love you. I fell in love with you the moment I met you" his gaze is pleading. He doesn't want to leave, he doesn't want to leave you but he doesn't know how to stay either.
"I don't know if you love me, I don't know if it's true" you sniff. "What I do know is that I love you and you hurt me like I never thought you would. Don't get me wrong, besides your girlfriend, I was your best friend and as a friend I understand how happy you must be that your first love remembers who you are. But I also understand that that "first love" is not me. Pick her, Peter. Go to her. You were always more hers than mine. Even when we were together you were looking for her."
"---I don't want to be your second choice, it hurts too much." You squeeze your eyes shut to still your sobs. "Pick her, it was always her."
It has always been her.
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Peter Parker Tags:
@raajali3 @fangirling-galore @powerpuffluuvv @itszulli @hallecarey1 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @kaitieskidmore1 @lnmp89 @pure-a-tea @vixparker
'Choices' Tags:
@parkerpeterparker2004 @afro-hispwriter
If your user name is lined it's because tumblr didn't let me tag you :(.
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bruisedboys · 3 months
Note
───── marshmallow . . . send in a character from the guestlist + an aesthetic, concept, trope, or colour and I’ll make a moodboard!
photographer! tasm!peter x muse!reader would be sooo cute
blair!!!! this is so cute omg I had sm fun making this
tasm!peter parker x muse!reader
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‘polaroid of you dancing in my room.’ ♡
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unpublishediary · 5 months
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Focus On My Heart (peter parker)
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INTEREST₊˚ Peter Parker X Reader
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ Reader also gets bit by a radioactive spider a bit later and goes through sensory overload during school, Peter comforts them through it.
WARNINGS(S)‧₊˚ Sensory overload
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You gave the person behind you ten seconds to stop clicking their pen right behind your head. When you got to ten, you turned around to tell them to stop, but it wasn't them. Confused, you looked around, still hearing the sound, but the person behind you was asleep.
Your breathing quickened when it continued. Other sounds started to force their way through your ears. Someone was drumming their nails on the desk, the crinkling of a water bottle. Your breathing quickened when it continued, the ticking of the clock, then, worst of all, the bell.
The bell was defining. It rang through your ears aggressively, signaling it was time to leave and leaving you to stumble through the door.
The world was too loud, you could hear way too much. Every heartbeat, every whisper, every breath, every footstep, and more traveled through your senses at once.
Thump.
You covered your ears and could feel the tears in your eyes despite them being clenched shut. It was overwhelming your senses. Your heartbeat the fastest of them all. You could hear the blood rushing through your head and body.
The fly was buzzing across the hall, the sound of the lightbulb as the energy zapped rapidly, every footstep, every scratch, every heartbeat, every breath, every-
"Hey," a panicked voice stood out in the sea of noises. You tried to calm down, not wanting any attention, but you couldn't steady your breathing; it was out of control.
Scratch.
The feeling of hands on your shoulders shook you into a panicked state, the friction against your clothing onto your skin felt suffocating.
Thump
"Hey, it's ok," It was the voice again. Attempting to steady your breathing, you listened the best you could, "I know it's hard, and it feels like everything is overwhelming, but I need you to focus on my voice."
You clenched your fists, trying your hardest to focus.
Tick, tick, tick…
"Please," they said, pulling your hands out of their clenched form and holding them lightly. "Focus on me, find my heartbeat." They brought your hand to their chest.
The second your hand touched their chest, you felt everything inside: heartbeat, breathing, the blood running through their veins, everything. You couldn't do it. The best you could do was shake your head. You couldn't; there were too many people, too many sounds, too many everything.
"You need to focus, their voice grew desperate. "You can feel everything, and I know, but your hand is directly on my heart, find it and focus, it'll help."
In all of the chaos going on inside your head, you directed all your energy to your palm through your pounding headache. You had to find it, to focus.
Tick, tick…
Scratch…
Buzz…
Thump,
Thump, There.
The fight to slow down your breathing became easier every time you sensed a beat.
"That's it," you then recognized the voice as Peter. "Stay focused on my heart."
You would never tell him, but his voice calmed you down more than the sound of his heart ever could.
"Breathe with me." He whispered, “You can open your eyes, the lights are off.”
The thought of opening your eyes terrified you, to go through the same thing again. You shook your head slowly in protest, trying to keep the composure you fought so hard to gain.
You felt a hand cup over your eyes, "Start small."
Your eyelashes brushed Peter's palm as you opened your eyes, through a small crack of his fingers, you could see his brown eyes full of concern. How did he know what to do? So many questions filled your brain as you became more aware of your surroundings. You were in a dark and empty classroom.
Peter noticed that you were trying to look around, "I'm gonna bring my hand down."
You nodded, and he took it down slowly. His eyes met yours in the dark. His hair was slightly messed up. His facial expression was twisted into something you've never seen on him, before you could figure it out, he looked down.
You almost laughed at the possibility of someone walking in and seeing this; they would definitely get the wrong idea. But your smirk fell once you followed Peter's gaze to his now bloody shirt.
You looked down at your palms, and blood flowed out of indents made by your nails. You didn't notice that you were crying until he brought his hand to your face to wipe your cheek. Looked up again, his face read all of the unanswered questions you had. "Later," he dismissed it. "The nurse is out so let's get this clean,” he touched your palm softly.
You didn't like the way his voice spoke to you like you were about to break. You hated seeming vulnerable, but you do owe it to Peter for helping you. You didn't know what you would have done without him. You appreciated it so you said nothing while he pulled out a small kit from his backpack, unraveling the supplies.
"Breathe for this," he warned. The cleansing wipe was centimeters away from your skin, and you nodded.
It stung, but you were too exhausted to show it, the earlier events taking its toll on you. Peter cleaned the small indents out like he had years of experience doing this with unusual gentleness.
When he was done, it seemed like he wanted to say something. You nodded your head to encourage him to speak up.
"Do you- Do you want to talk about it?"
You eyes snapped to his, “No," but he gave you an unconvinced look back. You took a deep breath and looked at him, your voice trembling slightly, "Yeah, I think I do. It's just… I don't even know where to start. It's like everything suddenly became too much, and I couldn't handle it."
Peter nodded, understanding, and put away the first aid kit. He sat down beside you, and you felt a sense of comfort in his presence. "It's something I went through a while ago," he admitted gently. That sentence left you with so many questions, but you decided against asking them at the moment. As you sat there in the dimly lit classroom, you couldn't help but feel more than grateful for Peter. He had a way of calming you down and making you feel safe that didn't make any sense. The episode had left you drained, but you knew you weren't alone, and you didn't have to face it all by yourself.
A comfortable silence washed over the dark room as you leaned on his shoulder, falling into a comfortable sleep.
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maevesheart · 1 year
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ she-devil
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╰┈➤ ❝ summary ❞
you, y/n griswold, smart, spoiled, gorgeous, and the most popular girl at midtown. him…. peter parker. there’s not much else to say…. at least that’s what you think. so when your evident best friend, harry osborn, spills to you that peter parker told everybody he took your virginity, you spiral into a complex and confusing love-hate relationship with the boy you once had no idea existed.
she-devil; a malicious or spiteful woman.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
╰┈➤ ❝ pairing ❞ peter parker x fem!reader
╰┈➤ ❝ genre ❞ enemies to lovers (sort of)
╰┈➤ ❝ wordcount ❞ tbd
╰┈➤ ❝ status ❞ on going
╰┈➤ ❝ moodboards ❞ here
╰┈➤ ❝ warnings ❞ 18+, smut, dark themes, bullying (kind of), slut shaming, violence, underage drinking, drug use
╰┈➤ ❝ note ❞ if you have trouble “casting” y/n’s dad and brother, i imagine george clooney as ken griswold (dad), and gavin casalengo as georgie griswold (brother).
NSFW MARKED WITH *
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ table of contents
i ➵ you… perv? (1.8k)
ii ➵ let’s make a deal (2k)
iii ➵ top secret (3k)
iv ➵ evil little thing (4.2k)
v ➵ stranger danger (2.2k)
vi ➵ speak of the devil (3.1k) *
vii ➵ make up, make out (
viii ➵ devil in disguise (
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ last updated june 5, 2023
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ next update tbd
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year
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the eflorr trilogy
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warnings: fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, violence, explicit sexual content
info about the world | maps | pinterest board | playlist
masterlist | join my taglist
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fused with the foe
king!steve rogers x princess!reader, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, total word count is 18k
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE (30/3-24)
CHAPTER FOUR (6/4-24)
CHAPTER FIVE (13/4-24)
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the wistful wyvern
knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, ex-friends to lovers, forced proximity
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
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soot and sparks
blacksmith!peter parker x farmer!reader, friends to lovers  
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble
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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year
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Burnt Face and Second Base
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Synopsis: Peter can’t seem to stop accidentally hurting his crush
Masterlist
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Peter opened his locker and hid behind the door so that he could stare at you without detection. All you were doing was printing something off a campus printer, but you made it look like an enchanting performance that had Peter captivated by your every move. Peter had been in college for three months now and found himself pinning for you for most of that time. You hadn’t spoken yet, but he held out for the day that you would.
“Who are you staring at?” Ned asked at full volume, making students passing by look and laugh at Peter.
“Would you keep your voice down? Jesus. Everybody heard that.” Peter whispered harshly and checked to make sure you hadn’t heard Ned. Ned followed Peters gaze and when he saw you, he smiled deviously.
“Oh. I know who you’re looking at.” Ned said as he raised his eyebrows up and down.
“I can’t help it. I love it when she wears her hair like that.” Peter sighed and leaned his cheek against his locker door as he continued to stare at you.
“You say that every day.”
“I know.” Peter sighed again and watched as you flipped your hair over your shoulder. You seemed to move in slow motion as you pulled your hair to one side so you could take a sip from the water fountain. Peter smiled dreamily as he watched you until you accidentally made eye contact. Peter quickly turned around so you wouldn’t see him staring.
“Do you think she ever stares at me?” He asked Ned.
“I think you’d know if she did. You know, since you’re always staring at her.”
“Ugh. You’re totally right. Why won’t she ever look at me?” Peter whined and shot another look at you.
“Have you tried speaking to her?” Ned asked. “Or are you hoping she’ll get the hint through your spider telepathic abilities?”
“Ned, for the last time, I do not have telepathic abilities. If regular spiders aren’t telepathic, then why would I be?”
“You say regular spiders aren’t telepathic with such confidence but how would you know? How do you really know?” Ned asked and shook Peters shoulders.
“Oh my God.” Peter groaned and turned back to look at you. He watched you laugh at something your friend said and wondered how amazing it would feel to be the one making you laugh.
“Do you think it could ever work? Do you think I could ever have a normal relationship with these stupid abilities?” Peter asked quietly as he stared at you.
“They’re not stupid, Peter.” Ned assured him. “I would kill to be telepathic.”
“I’m not telepathic.” Peter groaned and looked down at the web shooter that was peaking out from his sleeve. He knew it was unrealistic that he could ever have a normal relationship and sighed wistfully. Ned looked between you and Peter for a second and felt a pang of guilt of his friend.
“I think it could work. You and her, I mean.” Ned told him.
“You do?” Peter asked skeptically and shut his locker.
“Yeah. I do. Who says your abilities, telepathic or not, have to stop you from having a normal relationship? As long as you treat her right and don’t hurt her, it would work.”
Peter took a second and thought about what Ned had said and wondered if he was right. He’d never admit it to Ned, but the reason he never tried to talk to you wasn’t because he thought being Spiderman and being in a relationship at the same time wouldn’t work. It was because he was scared that the relationship could work, but would fail because of something that Peter did that had nothing to do with Spiderman. It was easy to blame his double life as an excuse not to talk to you instead of admitting that he was scared of messing it up on his own accord. That kept him from ever trying to ask you out but with Neds pep talk, he felt like it was worth a shot. He unlocked his locker again with a plan to write a note to you that he could slip into your backpack as you passed by.
“Thanks for saying that, man. I really hope I could make it work if I ever got the chance. Because I really like this girl. I would never hurt her.” Peter said as he swung his locker back open. He heard a clash, followed by a pained whine. Peter frowned and shut his locker only to find you standing right there with both hands over your nose.
“Y/n?!” Peter gasped in shock when he realized what he had done.
“Ouch.” You winced and pulled your hands away from your nose. Peter watched your eyes widen when you saw the amount of blood that had gushed out of your nose.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there.” Peter quickly apologized as he fumbled around his pocket for a tissue.
“Yeah, it really felt that way.” You said as you pinched your nose and tilted your head up to try and stop the bleeding. Peter pulled out a bunch of tissues and gently held them up to your nose as his other hand went to the back of your head. You made eye contact for a minute and you found the look of absolute panic on Peters face to be quite adorable. You smiled a little, but quickly stopped when it made your nose throb angrily.
“Ow.” You flinched and put your hand over Peters to hold the tissues in place. Peter gulped and felt his face flush at the first time the two of you had not only spoken, but made physical contact.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n. Can I take you to the nurse?” Peter offered.
“Yes please.” Your voice came out nasally due to your nose being pinched.
Peter wrapped one arm around you and kept the other on your nose as he walked with you to the campus nurse. He sat with you in the waiting room and gave you a fresh bouquet of tissues to soak up the still flowing blood.
“Is it bad?” You asked him, still not having seen yourself. You had blood all down your face and neck but Peter was not about to tell you that.
“No. It’s not bad.” He said unconvincingly. You gave him a skeptical look and pulled the tissues away to inspect the damage.
“Oh God. That’s a lot of blood.” You gulped when you saw the saturated tissue.
“Is it? I don’t think its that much.” Peter played dumb in an attempt to keep you calm.
“You said it wasn’t bad. I look like I just ate somebody.” You laughed and playfully shoved him.
“I was trying to make you feel better. Your nose looks like that “Can’t Help Myself” robot.” Peter smiled a little now that he had heard you laughing. It felt just as amazing as he imagined and hoped it meant you weren’t mad at him.
“Oh good. That’s my favorite artwork.“ You laughed again and it sent a flush to Peters cheeks.
“It is? That wasn’t too niche of a reference to make?”
“It probably was. But I understood it.” You shrugged. You and Peter looked at each other again as a comfortable silence settled between you. It wasn’t much, but it was a rare moment of feeling seen for the both of you.
“How’d you know my name, by the way? I heard you say it after giving me a face full of locker.” You asked Peter as he switched out your tissues for fresh ones.
“Oh, uh, I asked one of your friends what it was. Gwen told me, I think.” Peter admitted without looking into your eyes.
“You asked her what my name was? Why?” You laughed shyly and anxiously waited for the answer.
“Because I wanted to know it.” Peter said simply as he finally looked into your eyes. Your jaw dropped a little then closed in a smile. No boy had ever sought out your name before, at least not to your knowledge, so you couldn’t help but feel flattered by the gesture.
“Well now I want to know your name. Since you wanted to know mine.” You said with a teasing smile.
“It’s Peter. Peter Parker.”
“Thanks for taking me to the nurse, Peter Parker.” You said, sending shivers down Peters spine with the way you said his name.
“It’s the least I could do after giving you a face full of locker, as you put it.”
You smiled in delight at him using your words from earlier. You looked into each other eyes again but before you could say anything else, the nurse arrived.
“What do we have here?” She asked as she looked at you.
“I hit her with my locker.” Peter sheepishly admitted.
“It was an accident.” You added when you saw the way she looked at Peter. Peter found it sweet that you would jump to his defense after what he did it you.
“Jesus. How hard did you hit her?” The nurse asked as she removed the tissues from your nose to inspect it.
“Not that hard.”
“It was pretty hard.” You mumbled.
The nurse started to feel around your nose, making you wince in pain. You instinctively grabbed Peters hand and squeezed it every time the nurse hurt you. And every time, Peter was a blushing mess.
“Okay. It doesn’t look broken but it’s definitely gonna swell. Let me get some ice.” The nurse smiled sweetly at you and went into her office.
“Hey, at least it’s not broken.” You shrugged and gingerly touched your nose.
“I know. But still. I totally messed up your pretty face because I had to fling my locker open like that. I’m such an idiot.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand since you had yet to let go of his other one. This just further confirmed his theory that he’d mess up your relationship just from being himself.
“You think I’m pretty?” You smiled shyly. Peters eyes flew open when he realized what he said and he had to think fast.
“You don’t?” He scoffed playfully, making your smile grow.
“Well right now I imagine I look like Carrie at the prom. Post pigs blood.”
“Hey, Carrie was hardcore. She was my first crush.” Peter shrugged, making you laugh. Peter smiled proudly at all the times he had been able to make you laugh.
“You’re a little weirdo, aren’t you?” You said, making Peters smile drop. You had meant in in an endearing way, but Peter hadn’t realized that.
“Oh, uh…” He trailed off as he struggled to find something to say. Before he could, the nurse came back.
“Here you go. Keep the ice on it and return it when it’s not cold anymore.” She instructed as she handed you an ice pack.
“Thank you.” You said as you carefully placed it on your nose, flinching from the cold.
“You can stay here for the rest of the period. You and your friend.” The nurse said before leaving you and Peter alone in the waiting room.
“Here. I don’t want your hands to get cold.” Peter said as he took the ice pack from you. He wrapped it in a napkin he had fished out of his backpack before holding it against your nose. The ice pack was more bearable now that it had the napkin buffer so you sighed in relief, all while finding it incredibly sweet that he was holding the ice pack for you so that your hands wouldn’t get cold.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want. I’ll be fine.”
“No way. I’m not leaving you after the crime I committed.” Peter sighed with guilt.
“Thanks.” You chuckled.
“For what? Smashing your face in with my locker?”
“For staying.” You shrugged and gave him another shy smile. Peter felt his face heat up so he pretended to be busy with the ice pack so that he wouldn’t have to look into your eyes.
“It’s the least I could do after hitting you with a metal door at full speed.” He mumbled in embarrassment.
“Yeah. Maybe.” You chuckled, secretly thrilled that he was staying. The two of you made eye contact again as you both wondered if something was happening here.
“So what class are you missing right now?” You asked him.
“Business ethics.”
“Business ethics? What’s that?”
“Fuck if I know. I just switch between different tabs on my laptop until the class is over.” Peter admired honestly, but you laughed thinking it was a joke. Peter felt his relax a little now that he knew you weren’t mad at him.
“What about you? What class are you missing?” He asked you.
“Intro to western art history.”
“Oh. Sounds fun.” Peter laughed sarcastically.
“It’s not. It’s a gen ed requirement. You’re actually doing me a favor by helping me skip it.” You told him.
“I’m glad you see it as a favor because I’ve never been more embarrassed.”
“Please. We’ve all hit someone in the face with a locker before.”
“Have we?” Peter said skeptically.
“Maybe not.” You admitted. “But it’s kinda my fault for standing so close to your locker.”
“Oh yeah. You were really close to my locker.”Peter realized. “Were you gonna come talk to me or something?”
“I honestly can’t even remember.”
“Because I gave you a concussion?” Peter joked it off but felt slightly disappointed that you hadn’t been coming up to talk to him.
“Probably.” You laughed, making Peter laugh as well.
You stayed in the nurses office until your ice pack wasn’t cold anymore and promptly returned to to her. You walked out of the office beside Peter just as the class period was ending.
“So I’ll see you around?” Peter asked hopefully.
“I hope you see me next time. Maybe you’ll open your locker a little slower.” You teased him, making Peter blush.
“Bye, Peter Parker.” You smiled shyly and squeezed his arm.
“Bye, Y/n.” He said softly as you walked away. You looked over your shoulder to wave at him before disappearing behind a building. Peter stood there and sighed as he replayed the entirety of your interaction in his head.
“How’d it go with Y/n? Did she make it?” Ned asked when he caught up with Peter later that day.
“Did she make it? I hit her with a locker, Ned. Not a bullet.”
“Excuse me for asking.” Ned mumbled.
“Sorry. I’m just a little distracted. Y/n called me a weirdo.” Peter recalled with a frown.
“Oh. That’s odd. In a good way or a bad way?”
“I don’t know. Is there a good way to be a weirdo?” Peter sighed, already knowing the answer.
“Maybe she meant it in an endearing way.” Ned offered.
“I hope so. It doesn’t matter anyway. There’s no coming back from hitting her with my locker.”
“Maybe there is. At least now you know you can never embarrass yourself in front of her more than you already did.”
“Oh yeah.” Peter smiled in relief. “You’re right. That takes a lot of the pressure off knowing the worst thing that can happen between us has already happened.”
A week later, Peter and Ned sat in the library as they prepared for an upcoming test. Peter hadn’t seen you since the locker incident and he was starting to worry that he’d completely blown it with you. You seemed to hit it off in the nurses office but now he wondered if you were just being nice and didn’t actually plan on ever speaking to him again.
“Dude, can you toss me my notebook?” Ned requested across the library table
“Which one?” Peter asked and rummaged through Neds backpack.
“The red one.”
“Okay. Heads up.” Peter said and threw the notebook to Ned. Peter had momentarily forgot that he was 10x stronger now from the spider bite so his casually toss ended up sending the notebook flying across the entire library with a perfect spiral. As if in slow motion, you started to walk in the direction of the airborne notebook with your earbuds in. People tried to warn you about the notebook heading your way, but you couldn’t hear anything over your music. Peter looked up just in time to see the notebook hit you in the eye and send you crumpling to the floor.
“Ah!” You called out as you put a hand over your injured eye.
“What?! Where did you even come from?” Peter shrieked in disbelief as he ran to you to help you sit up.
“I was coming to say hi to you.” You said in a pained voice.
“You were?” Peter stopped freaking out for a moment to smile.
“Yeah. Then the Fire Nation attacked.” You winced and took your hand away from your eye. You had a red mark going across your eye and the most bloodshot eye Peter had ever seen, but he tried to keep his face neutral so you wouldn’t freak out.
“That doesn’t look so bad.” He said with a high pitched voice, making you give him an unconvinced look.
“At least you missed my nose this time.” You said with a weak smile.
“I know. But I got you right in the eye. I’m so sorry.” Peter frowned as he helped you get up.
“It’s okay. I got another one.”
“Can I walk you to the nurse?” Peter offered.
“Well I definitely can’t see myself there.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll take you there. Oh geez. I’m so sorry.” He continued to apologize as he wrapped an arm around your waist to help you walk to the nurses office. Peter couldn’t believe that this had happened a second time and knew his chances with you were 100% down the drain now.
“You two again? What happened this time?” The nurse asked when she saw you and Peter entering the office.
“I threw a notebook in her face.” Peter said with a defeated sigh.
“He got me right in the eye.” You said as you took your hand away from your eye.
“He sure did. Let me take a look.” The nurse said as she took a flashlight out of her pocket. It wasn’t painful, but you still grabbed Peters hand for comfort. He blushed at the action and gave your hand a squeeze to let you know he was there.
“Okay. Luckily he didn’t scratch your cornea but this is definitely going to bruise.” The nurse told you.
“Oh. Lovely.” You said sarcastically.
“First I made you bleed and now I gave you a black eye? I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.” Peter said as he looked at you with guilty eyes.
“I don’t know what you can say either.” You shrugged. “I’ve never been in this situation before.”
“Um, black eyes are hot?” Peter offered weakly, making you laugh.
“They better be. What’s next? Are you gonna knock my teeth out?”
“Not on purpose.” Peter replied, making you laugh again. He laughed as well and soon looked into each others eyes as a comfortable silence settled between you. Peter felt the connection he felt the first time he had taken you to the nurses office and smiled shyly until he remembered something you had said.
“Hey, what did you mean the other day when you said I was a weirdo?” He wondered.
“Oh, you remember that? I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I hope you didn’t take it that way. I meant it in a good way.”
“Is there a good way to be a weirdo?” He asked skeptically.
“Of course there is. It’s you.” You said with a sheepish smile. Peter felt himself relax now that he knew you didn’t think he was too weird to talk too.
“Oh. Okay. Cool.” He smiled back just as the nurse came back.
“Here you go. Ice it and bring it back once it’s warm.”
“I know the drill.” You said as you got off the chair.
“I’ll walk you to class.” Peter offered as he held the door for you to leave the nurses office.
“Aw. Thanks.” You smiled as you pressed the ice pack to your eye. You sighed in relief and felt your pain melt away. The hand that wasn’t holding the ice pack bumped into Peters a few times on the walk to your next class but neither of you was bold enough to take the others hand.
“This is my building.” You said with slight disappointment once you reached your class.
“See you around?” Peter asked, hoping you’d make a plan to purposefully see each other.
“Don’t think I’ll be seeing much of anything for a while.” You chuckled and gestured to your eye.
“Right. Sorry again.” Peter apologized.
“It’s all right. Bye, Peter.” You waved and started going up the steps to your building.
“Bye.” Peter waved back, disappointed that you were once again getting away with no plans to see each other in the future. He hoped he’d run into you again soon, without injuring you this time.
The next time you saw each other came sooner than expected when you spotted Peter on line for a coffee shop on campus. You got behind him in line and tapped his shoulder.
“Hey Peter.” You smiled to greet him.
“Hey…” Peter turned around and trailed off when he saw the black eye he had given you.
“What?” You asked and insecurely touched your eye.
“Nothing. Nothing at all. You just look really pretty today. I like your hair like that.” He quickly recovered and tried not to look at the eye.
“Aw, thank you.” You smiled shyly. “I was wondering when I’d see you again.”
“Really? You were?” He asked hopefully.
“Yeah. I felt a little lopsided with just the one black eye. I thought you might want to throw a rock or a brick at me or something to even me out.” You teased him, making him feel a mixture of embarrassment from hurting you and excitement that you had an inside joke now.
“I’m so so sorry about the eye. I feel horrible. I would never hurt a girl or anybody and I-“
“Hey, relax. I’m just teasing you.” You assured him as you gave his arm and gentle squeeze. Peter looked down at your hand on his arm and felt his entire face turn pink.
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He laughed timidly.
“I actually think the black eye makes me look hardcore. Like Carrie.”
“My first crush. You remembered.” Peter smiled in surprise.
“I did. Because it’s the weirdest first crush I’ve ever heard.” You laughed at him.
“Oh yeah? Who was your first crush?”
“The pizza boy in Home Alone.” You shrugged.
“What?” Peter laughed. “That’s way more obscure and weird than mine.”
“No way. The pizza boy from Home Alone didn’t kill anybody with his mind.”
“That we know of.” Peter corrected, making you laugh and lean into him. Peter felt his face warm up from the physical contact and was shocked at how well your conversation was going.
“Let me buy your drink to make up for the black eye. And the bloody nose. And whatever else I end up doing to you.” Peter offered when you moved to the front of the line.
“You really don’t have to do that.”
“I insist.”
“Aw. What a gentleman.” You laughed shyly and squeezed his arm out of appreciation.
“Together or separate?” The cashier asked after you and Peter ordered.
“Together.” Peter answered before shooting you a wink. You winked back and stepped to the side as you waited for your drinks. Soon enough, Peter was handed his hot chocolate you were handed your matcha.
“Thank you for paying. That was really sweet.” You said as you clinked your drink against his.
“Thanks for continuing to speak to me after I gave you a black eye.” Peter replied, making you laugh.
“What are you drinking anyway?” He wondered and nodded towards your cup.
“Matcha. Have you ever had it?”
“No. That’s the green one right?”
“Yeah, the green one.” You chuckled. “You want to try it?”
The thought of putting his lips where yours had been made Peters face flush and he nodded eagerly.
“Yeah. Sure.” He tried not to sound as excited as he felt as he accepted the cup. Peter took a big sip of the drink and was instantly met with a burning hot sensation on his tongue. He instinctively spit the drink out, which spewed hot matcha latte all over your face. Peter slapped his hand over his mouth while you scrunched your face from the hot liquid hitting you.
“Oh my God! I’m sorry! It was hot!” Peter quickly explained as he grabbed a bunch of napkins.
“I can tell.” You said dryly as you wiped the matcha out of your eyes.
“Let me help. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it would be that hot.” Peter apologized profusely as he dabbed your face clean with his wad of napkins.
“Yep. Hot drinks tend to be hot.” You smiled sarcastically as you wiped the matcha off your clothes.
“Oh no. I got it all over you. Let me help.” Peter offered and started to dab the stain he had made on your shirt. He put a hand on you to keep you steady as he dabbed at a particular large stain.
“Uh, Peter-“
“I can’t believe this keeps happening. I’m really so sorry.” He cut you off.
“Peter, can you just-“
“I swear I’m not doing this to you on purpose. It just seems like no matter what I do, I end up hurting you or burning you or-“
“Peter, can you get your hand off my boob?” You cut in, making Peter freeze. His eyes slowly moved to his hand and he realized that he had placed it directly on your boob. His eyes then went to his other hand, which had been wiping at your other boob to get the matcha off. Peter immediately held up his hands and took a step back from you.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. My hand, I didn’t-“
“It’s fine. You didn’t realize. It’s okay.” You cut him off to spare the embarrassment for the both of you.
“Oh my God. Oh God, I am so sorry. I didn’t even notice.“ Peter pan kicked and gripped his hair with his hands.
“You didn’t notice that your hand was on my boob?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Not that you’re flat!” Peter quickly explained. “I’m not saying you’re flat at all. You have really nice boobs. Not that I stare at them. But I felt them! But not on purpose. I was just trying to get the matcha off of you and I totally groped you. Right after spitting hot liquid in your face. Oh god. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Really. I know it wasn’t on purpose. Just like all our other encounters weren’t on purpose.” You chuckled as you finished cleaning yourself up.
“Can I walk you to the nurse?” Peter offered weakly.
“I think I’ll be fine. I’m not sure she can do much for a burnt face and second base.” You shrugged, making Peters face turn bright red.
“I totally didn’t mean to go to second base on you. We haven’t even gone to first base yet.”
“Yet?” You raised an eyebrow, making Peter cover his mouth with both his hands.
“Not that I’m expecting anything from you! I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it more in a “no, not like this” kinda way like in New Girl season 2 episode 15 titled Cooler. That’s what I meant.” Peter said all in one breath.
“That’s the episode when Nick and Jess kiss, right?” You smiled shyly when you realized he was implying that he wanted to kiss you in the longest and strangest way possible.
“Damn. You really get my weird references.” Peter said, mostly to himself.
“Such a weirdo.” You chuckled. “Thanks for the matcha. And for the feel up.”
Peters burned a hot pink as you waved and walked away from him. Even after two embarrassing moments in a row, you were still being nice to him. If he didn’t know any better, he almost believed you liked him back.
A few days later, Peter sat on a bench on campus as he waited for Ned. He hadn’t spoken to you since the matcha incident, something he had still not been able to think about without it cringing. He didn’t want to hurt you again, but on the event of it happening again, he hoped he’d get your number next time.
“The vending machine is all out of Sprite so I had to get Mountain Dew. Do you know what flavor this even is?” Ned complained as he sat down on the bench with a can of Mountain Dew in hand.
“I don’t know. Mountain?” Peter shrugged.
“Interesting.” Ned looked at the can with a newfound respect before taking a sip.
“Well?” Peter wondered about the verdict.
“It’s definitely mountain flavored.” Ned nodded and took another sip.
“Ugh. I hate these shoes. The laces are way too long so they’re always untied.” Peter whined when he saw his untied shoelace lying on the ground.
“That one’s untied too.” Ned said once Peter tied his shoe.
“It is?” Peter asked and stuck his foot out to check. As fate would have it, you were walking by right as he stuck his foot out. You tripped over Peters foot and landed on the ground with a hard thud. Peter heard the noise but was scared to look down, having a sinking suspicion that it was you who he had just tripped.
“Please tell me that wasn’t-“
“Ow.” You groaned from the floor, cutting Peter off.
“Oh no. How does this keep happening?” Peter asked the sky before looked down to see you. Your face was scratched from the fall and you had a leaf stuck in your hair.
“Hey Peter. Nice to see you again.” You smiled weakly as you rolled over on the pavement.
“You too.” He nodded. “Is that a new top?”
“It is. I’m kinda whatever about it.” You said waved your hand back and forth.
“It’s nice. I like the sleeves.”
“So do I.” You smiled and held up your arm to admire the lacy sleeves of your shirt.
“Cool, cool. So um, did you ankle always bend that way?” Peter asked and nervously flicked his eyes to your ankle. You prompted yourself up on your elbows and looked down to see your ankle bending the wrong direction.
“Not that I was aware of.” You shrugged, the pain not hitting you yet. Peter immediately got down on the floor to help you sit up.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you walking by. I’m gonna take you to the nurse.”
“What else is new?” You mumbled as Peter slipped an arm around you.
“Here. I got you.” Peter said and lifted you off the ground with ease. He carried you bridal style in the direction of the nurses office.
“Is this really necessary?” You whispered when you noticed the other students staring at you and Peter.
“Yes. You shouldn’t put any weight on it until you know it’s not broken.”
“I guess so.” You shrugged and stayed silent for the rest of the walk. You wouldn’t admit this out loud, but being carried made you feel like a princess that had just been rescued from a tower. It was cliche and outdated, but it made you feel special. You looked up at Peter before resting your head in the crook of his neck, your way of silently thanking him for carrying you. Peter gulped at the action but felt too flustered to say anything to you.
“Hey.” Peter timidly announced his arrival as he carried you into the nurses office.
“Be fucking for real.” The nurse said and put her hands on her hips.
“She tripped over my-“
“I don’t even want to hear it.” She held up a hand. “Put her down while I get some ice.”
“Thank you.” You called as the nurse disappeared into the back. Peter carefully set you down in a chair and took his backpack off his back to give you something to rest your foot on.
“Make sure to keep her foot…” The nurse trailed off when she saw that Peter had already done what she was about to say.
“Elevated.” She finished. “Good. Let me take a look, baby.”
You gripped Peters hand as the nurse inspected your ankle and winced every few seconds from the pain. This was definitely the worse injury Peter had caused thus far and he could not feel worse about it. He squeezed your hand tightly before putting his other hand around it.
“You’re lucky this isn’t broken. It’s just twisted. I’m gonna give you this splint and some crutches. In the mean time, ice it and keep your weight off of it.” The nurse instructed as she wrapped your foot and placed it in a splint.
“Okay.” You nodded to let her know you understood.
“And do me a favor?” She asked with a smily.
“Yeah. Anything.”
“Stay away from each other.” Her smile dropped. “You’re clearly each other bad luck charm or something. How many more signs from the universe do you need before you realize you shouldn’t be around each other?”
You and Peter sat in silence as the nurse got up and left the room. You were both wondering if what she said was true because deep down, you’d both even thinking the same thing.
“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Peter said after a beat of silence.
“You have to stop apologizing, Peter. It was an accident. They were all accidents.”
“I can’t stop apologizing. I’m sorry I can never be normal around you. Every interaction we have ends with you getting hurt because of something I did. It’s probably better that I just stay away from you for the rest of college. Which I really don’t want to do but if it keeps you safe from me, it might be the best option. So if this is our last encounter, just know that I really am sorry for all of it. I would never hurt you on purpose. I don’t know how it happened so many times. The universe must hate me or something. Or maybe it hates you. Anyways, I just have this big stupid crush on you but for some reason, I can’t stop hurting you.” Peter sighed and looked down at the ground.
“You have a big stupid crush on me?” You asked as a smile tugged at your lips. Peter perked up when he heard the hope in your voice. He looked up at you and saw that you looked happy about his confession.
“The biggest and the most stupid.” He admitted, making your smile grow.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him.
“Well most of our interactions happen in this room after I’ve severely injured you so it never really felt like a good time.” Peter laughed dryly.
“Yeah. Maybe not.” You agreed. “But at least I know now.”
“You do know now. Oh God. You know now.” Peter realized and started to panic a little. You could see him starting to freak out so you thought of something to calm him down.
“You wanna know how I think our first date would go?” You asked, pulling Peter out of his panic.
“How?” He asked as a shy smile crept on his face.
“I think it would be raining, since the universe hates us as we’ve established, and you would pick me up in your car and splash water on me as you pulled up to the curb.” You began. “And then I think you’d get out to open the car door for me like the gentleman you are and accidentally hit me with the door.”
“Yeah. All of that would definitely happen.” Peter laughed.
“Uh huh. And then you’d drive me to a restaurant and pull out my chair for me when we sat down. But you’d pull it out too far and I’d fall on the floor. Then we’d sit down to eat and you’d spill water on me. Or maybe spit your hot food into my face. I know you like doing that.” You continued with a teasing smile
“This is all very likely.” Peter agreed with you, growing fonder of you with every detail you added.
“I know. Then after we ate, you’d order us dessert and somehow, I’d be allergic to it. The one thing you ordered would definitely be something that made me break out in hives or go into anaphylactic shock or something. And after you walked me back to your car, you’d lean in to kiss me.”
“Yeah? And then what?” Peter hung on to your every word.
“You’d miss my lips and knock your head right into mine. And we’d both end the night with a headache. And maybe even a missing tooth.”
“I’d risk the headache for the kiss.” Peter smiled softly. “You know, one of my favorite song lyrics is, “I’ve got headaches and bad luck luck but they couldn’t touch you.” That kinda describes us perfectly. It describes how I feel about you, at least.”
“I don’t know that song.” You frowned. “I can’t believe I finally don’t understand one of your references.”
“It’s an old Fall Out Boy song.” Peter explained as he pulled out his phone and earbuds. “Here. I’ll show you.”
You stayed perfectly still as Peter placed his earbud in your ear and the other in his ear. You leaned your temples together as Peter hit play on the song. When you got to the part of the song with the lyrics, you looked over into Peters eyes. He looked into yours and felt his face heat up the way it always did around you. Since your heads were already pressed together, all you had to do was tilt your face to close the gap between you and Peter. You kissed him slowly and softly until your felt his hands cupping your face to pull you closer. Peter could barely believe what was happening after all the time he had spent imagining this every moment. He never thought it would happen after he twisted your ankle, but at least it was happening. When you pulled away, you smiled shyly at each other and laughed a little.
“Well, what do you know. That was completely painless.” You teased him. But that wasn’t entirely true for Peter. He touched his now burning lips and realized he smelled something all too familiar.
“Are you wearing peppermint chapstick?” He asked you.
“Peppermint lipgloss, yeah. Why?”
“Oh no.” He gulped and felt his lips start to lose all feeling.
“What? Is something wrong?”
“No. Nothings wrong. I’m just a little severely allergic to peppermint, is all. It’s fine.” Peter kept his voice calm as he frantically wiped his lips.
“What? A little severely allergic?” Your panic grew to match his.
“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” He smiled to assure you but couldn’t hide the panic in his eyes.
“Are you sure? Your lips are swelling.”
“Tho ith my tongue. But ith okay. I really liked kithing you. It wath worth it.” Peter said through his red and swollen tongue and lips, only worsening his pain.
“Oh my God. Nurse! We need some help in here!” You called out as you held Peters hand to comfort him. The nurse came running back in and immediately sighed when she saw the two of you.
“Oh my Lord. How did you manage to hurt her again in the five minutes since I’ve left you? You haven’t even moved!” The nurse exclaimed.
“No, no, no. I hurt him this time. He’s having an allergic reaction to my lipgloss.” You quickly explained.
“Well how did he get your lipgloss on his…” The nurse trailed off when she put two and two together. You gave her an embarrassed smile while Peter passed out from the pain.
“You two are so nasty.” She shook her head. “I’ll go get some ice.”
Tag List 🏷️
@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow
@unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e 
@eridanuswave​ ​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild
@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah
@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland
@yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey
3K notes · View notes
ptergwen · 2 years
Text
can’t get close
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in danger of flunking physics, you enlist peter parker to tutor you. you’re at the top of the food chain with your best friends harry osborn and liz allan, but peter is at the bottom. he’s midtown high’s golden boy; you’re the designated party girl. an unlikely friendship is formed between the two of you somewhere along the way. harry isn’t particularly thrilled about it, and he isn’t afraid to air his grievances. eventually, benefits are involved in yours and peter’s friendship. things start to get messy when feelings are, too, and peter’s past dulls his shine.
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please note that this series contains adult contain and should only be read if you’re 18+! all characters are of age.
pairing: peter parker x reader
warnings: smut, explicit language, slut shaming, manipulation, underage drinking, drug use, and angst
status: completed
☛ series taglist ♪ series playlist ✎ main masterlist
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table of contents
➀ focus on the friendship
➁ you’re my best friend now
➂ don’t try to take it further
➃ get a little sidetracked
➄ catchin’ little feelings
➅ baby, what we got is secure
➆ friends no more
➇ i don't want to be responsible for your heart if we fall
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last updated july 11th, 2022
2K notes · View notes
shawnxstyles · 2 years
Text
ten times faster
DATE: JULY 29, 2022
summary: as the gang hangs out at your place, peter and you get into an argument about if a guy knows a girl’s body more than her own. when you tell peter that you can come better alone than with him, he decides to prove you wrong.
words: 2.3k
song: A Kiss- the driver era <3
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [nipple play, fingering] hair pulling, dirty talk?) language, way too much dialogue to deal with
note: this is a random thing i found in my notes and i actually had time to finish it?? i love smut, but let’s be honest, i’m not that good at writing it. but here’s this. frat!peter x female!reader
gif is not mine!
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“i mean, i think the girl would know her own body the best, i’m just saying,” you stated, sipping on your cheap wine as you laid against the couch. you rested your hand on the arm and crossed your legs. you and your friends were having a night in, discussing topics that were anything but age appropriate.
“girls never get to finish anyway,” betty adds and ned looks at her with the most shocked and hurtful look known to man, “hey! that does not include me. i finish every time. if not more.”
we all gag and pretend to throw up while ned whispers a thanks, babe to betty behind it all. you roll your eyes, ready to move on when mr. thinks-he-knows-it-all-just-because-he-gets-good-grades steals the spotlight (clearly you have some frustrations with school and he does not help).
“i mean, i’ve never been with a girl who hasn’t finished,” peter arrogantly voices with a small smirk curling on his face. you didn’t even know girls slept with him (don’t lie, he’s mildly cute. even attractive at most. okay, he’s very attractive. better?) you almost didn’t say anything.
“what is that even supposed to mean?”
“it means the guy knows his girl’s body more than she knows her own,” he shrugs as if he has said the most simplistic thing in the world. peter tilts his beer bottle as he empties it. he makes an overly exaggerated ahh sound of relief as he downs the liquid. it makes you even more irritated.
“how does that even make sense?! just because you’ve had sex with a bunch of girls doesn’t mean you know their bodies. let alone, made them come,” you bit at him, sitting up in your seat. you were no longer at peace with your wine and the couch wasn’t as comfortable as it had been. even though he is one of the smartest people you know (but you would never admit that), sometimes, peter’s stupidity surprises you.
and to note, it was no doubt, blatantly obvious, and super clear— that peter was your least favorite in the group. you could bet he thought the same towards you too. you two were never really “friends”, but are somehow forced to be together every time if you want to see your actual friends. so that’s how mutual friends were created. don’t you love them?
you don’t. at least not this one.
“princess, you don’t need to be jealous of other girls. if you wanted me to help you out—”
“jealous? how conceited are you? you think i want to sleep with you so you can ‘help’ me? please, i know for a fact i can make myself finish ten times faster and stronger than you ever could,” and with that you snatched the bottle of wine and poured a large measurement into your glass. you chugged a good amount and while doing so, you saw peter’s infamous smirk taunting you from the corner of your eye. you set down your nearly empty glass and excused yourself to the bathroom.
“i love watching two people fight over something exhaustingly stupid. it’s entertaining,” mj says as she sips her tea because she was the driver for the night, “this is going to be very interesting.”
as the night comes to a close, you hug and wave off your friends. you say goodbye to mj, betty, and ned and realize peter wasn’t around. you close the front door with a confused look on your face. when you turn around to clean up the wine glasses, peter comes walking into the living room.
“they left, you know,” you say as you bend down to pick up all the glasses, wrappers, and bottles.
“i’m aware,” peter replies as he follows you into the kitchen. you dump all of the garbage in the trash can and wash your hands.
“then why are you still in my house?” you wit, drying off your hands. without looking, you hear peter’s footsteps getting closer to you in the small kitchen.
“i thought we could test your little theory,” he whispers just over your shoulder and it gives you an odd, unwanted sensation down your spine. you turn your head slightly towards him, so you can see him from the corner of your eye.
“which theory? the one that proves how big of a dick you are?” your chest gets tighter with close proximity, but you still have your wits with you. peter puts his hands on the counter, blocking you from leaving.
you hear him chuckle darkly behind you, which causes you to turn around fully.
“you know what i’m talking about.”
your tailbone is pushed against the edge of the tiled counter when he takes another step toward you. you didn’t even think it was possible to be this close to someone.
there was a heated feeling in your lower belly that you knew all too well, but it was a little different. it’s a lustful feeling, but somewhere inside of you knows that you shouldn’t do this. the wrongness of doing this just makes you want to do it more.
“i have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“really? well, let me show you.” he doesn’t wait until you take a deep breath, he just kisses you with hunger and lust. one of his hands from the counter lifts up to caress your neck roughly. you tug at the baby hairs on the back of his neck and you feel him groan in your mouth. one of his fingers gets caught in your hair and he snags it out, but you accidentally moan out.
“oh? you like that?” he releases from the kiss with a smirk, as you try to keep a straight face. he slips off his t-shirt quickly watching your brain rack.
“no—” he lifts you onto the counter and immediately goes back into kissing you with no hesitation. you absentmindedly feel up his body. you’ve never seen him without a shirt on and you would’ve never guessed he was this ripped. you know he saves people for a living, but c’mon on? he gets to be hot too?
what?
okay, you can’t even lie about that. peter IS dangerously attractive whether you hate him or not. it’s a scientific fact in society.
his fingers twists the ends of your shirt and you break the kiss to take it off. you don’t hesitate to get rid of your bra either as you quickly unhook it blindly. peter kisses down your neck harshly as you whimper, trying to keep your moans in. he tugs your hair, now knowing you like it and you can’t help but moan for him. you don’t want him to know how good he’s making you feel, especially when he has barely done anything.
you bit your lip as he kneads your right boob and sucks on your other one. peter sucks around your nipple, pulling and pinching the other one. he spends a good amount of time on your breasts, and if he did it any longer, you sadly might be able to come from just that.
“so i take that you’re a boob guy?” you yank him off of you by his hair. peter groans at the loss of control, so you let go of his hair.
“so you liked it?”
“i never said that—”
“but you never said you didn’t. imagine what it would be like for me to eat you out. may i?” his hand goes straight to the drawstrings on your sweatpants, but you don’t know what he was asking. was he asking if he would take off your sweatpants or eat you out? yes, all of the above is what you wanted to say. oh my god yes a million times yes also came to your head, but that sounds like an agreement to marriage, so maybe not.
“whatever floats your boat, captain,” is what you actually said and you’ve never wanted to hide under a blanket more. embarrassment flows through your veins. however, you stick with it because you can’t change what you said now.
he chuckles with a shake of his head as he slowly tugs your sweatpants down. once they’re off, he pushes your knees to spread your legs and he sees that wet patch of arousal on your panties. peter smirks and you swear you see his brown eyes darken.
“so i take that you’re a boob girl?” he kneads your inner thighs as you huff in frustration.
“shut up and do something,” you roll your eyes.
“aye aye, captain.”
before you could shout and cringe at him, peter’s hands finally go to rub your panties. you whimper as his thumb circles perfectly slow on your clit. you hold his shoulders for balance as you involuntarily move your hips to create faster friction. peter grabs your hips to stop your movements and you whine out.
“more,” you huff, getting wetter and wetter, but aren’t as close to finishing as you can be. he’s deliberately going slow, so you can be tormented.
“tell me what you want, y/n. i’ll probably give it to you,” peter smirks as you looks at you. he removes his hand from your hip to tilt your chin to face him. his eyes are dark and so beautiful it kind of hurts. how can someone so attractive be such a dick? you debate on telling him that you want everything. his mouth, his fingers, his dick. it’s all sounding pretty good right about now.
“dick,” you mumble at him because of his arrogant attitude.
“you want my dick?”
“i—no, i mean yes! but i want your fingers right now,” you squeeze your eyes shut at your neediness and stuttering words. you may be a confident and strong person, but when it comes to sex, you’re the queen at obeying.
“just say please and they’re yours.”
“ugh, you’re such an asshole,” you growl as he flicks your clit three times and you yelp. that little action made you much wetter and he can probably feel that. you are beyond turned on right now and you need him so bad.
“fine! please peter, just do something already!” you grip his shoulders out of irritation and he smiles before yanking your panties down your legs. he rubs you bare for a few moments before he slips two fingers straight into you. you instantly moan out (embarrassing loud), and you can practically feel his ego rising. peter takes his unused hand and pulls at your nipples again. that familiar heat in your belly becomes tighter and tighter as he strategically moves his fingers. peter curls his fingers and twists in a way that’s just so intoxicating and so good that it clouds your mind with lust. you clench around his fingers when he touches a spot deep inside of you.
“you’re so wet. are you going to cum? hmm?” as he talks, his thumb brushes your clit again and you moan again, not trying to hold it back this time.
“peter yes, yes!”
“am i going to make you cum ten times faster and stronger than you can?”
“try me.”
taking the challenge, peter rubs your clit again, while you involuntary open your legs wider, letting him access you deeper. he lowers his head so he’s closer to your ear.
“c’mon love, i know you want to.”
his raspy voice makes you clench around him again and the tightening in your belly finally releases. peter sloppily kisses your neck as you come down from your high.
“good girl,” his deep, sensual voice almost makes you want to do it again. actually, everything he did makes you want to do it again. peter rubs you slowly, drawing your orgasm to a close. he rips off some nearby paper towels and wipes the mess you made. or he made, you should say.
when you go to talk, your voice comes out squeaky, so you clear your throat and try again.
“i still think i can cum faster alone, just so you know,” peter throws the towels in the garbage. you lightly leap off the counter and nearly fall to the ground, but you survive with a little balancing. you bend down to pick up your panties, but they’re gone. you swear you just saw them right there.
“peter—” he turns around with a smirk and your panties twisted around his finger. you gasp, spinning around and grabbing his shirt and throwing it on. you eye him heavily.
“give them back, you dick.”
“or what?”
“or i’m not giving you your shirt back,” you scoff as you cross your arms. his shirt was a bit big for you. meaning, it went down to your mid thighs.
“oh please, keep it. it looks better on you anyway,” he smirks again, looking you up and down and you punch him in the chest. he never has a different expression on his face; just smirking, smirking, and more smirking. “but seriously, i’m keeping these.”
“but why? i really like those ones, asshat! oh my gosh, you probably collect them. you’re a panty collector! i knew you were a weirdo, but jeez, peter,” he coughs looking down, trying to add a comment to your crazy assumption.
“um no. i need to keep these, so when i start telling mj, ned, and betty that i made you cum ten times faster and stronger than you can yourself, i’ll have some proof,” peter winks and starts to walk away. you pinch your face together.
“what are you talking about? you’ll never tell them about this because it never happened! got that?” you shout as he goes across the house. why is he walking around my house?
“whatever floats your boat, captain!”
oh fuck. you’re never living this down.
thanks for reading!! 😊
2K notes · View notes
withahappyrefrain · 2 years
Note
Thristy thursaday you say? How about possesive Peter who sometimes just get’s worked up by his own imagination and has to fuck you to remind both himself and you that you are his?
Why does this scream Mob!Peter, let's write some Mob!Peter bc he gives me brainrot 18+, also we got some Daddy and breeding kink here. Don't like that? Don't read it.
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You hated these dinner parties.
Peter knew that.
He always tried to make them tolerable for you by buying what dress or jewelry you wanted, as well as never staying longer than needed.
You knew it was important that the two of you were here. It was part of maintaining control, an image, a reputation.
You just couldn't listen to Betty Brandt rant about her neighbor's lawn anymore.
"I'll be right back, just need to refresh my drink," you said with no intention of returning. She'd find someone to ramble to soon enough.
After refilling your wine glass, you leaned against the wall, taking in the party. In the corner, you could see your husband talking to several 'colleagues'. You could tell the conservation had to do with business, given Peter's harden expression.
"Nice party, right?" A voice interrupted your gazing of Peter.
You turned to see a young man standing next to you, wine glass in hand. He looked vaguely familar- most likely a new hire.
"Yeah, it's pretty nice," You said dryly, turning your attention back to Peter, who was still talking to his men.
"You know, I'm amazed at how they're always having to talk business. Even when it's after hours." Did this kid not know who you were?
"Some things can't wait. Tends to happen a lot with this line of work," You continued to sip your wine, your eyes zoned in on Peter.
"I just think it's impolite. It's best to live in the now, take it all in. " The man reminded you of those guys who took one philosophy class and declared themselves to be the next Aristole.
You turned to face him, keeping your wine glass close to your face (which conveniently was being held by your left hand).
"I just also think it's much more enjoyable to talk to new people....beautiful people." You began to clink your ring finger against the glass.
Either the kid was just brazen or absolutely daft, considering your engagement and wedding rings were hard to miss.
"That Watson girl over there models," You motioned over to the redhead who was talking to a group.
"I don't really go for models," He scoffed, "Between you and me, they tend to be pretty shallow."
"Oh, she's actually quite lovely," you paused, "I know because we used to model together."
The panic in the man's eyes made your sip of wine extra delicious.
"Oh, so uh...what do you do now?" He asked, now quite nervous.
Before you could answer, you felt a large hand place itself on your hip. Another hand grabbed the wine glass out of your hand.
"Jason, my wife's wine glass needs to be refilled. You can do that, right?" Though it had been phrased as a question, Peter made it quite clear 'no' was not an option.
The now nervous Jason quickly grabbed your glass, avoiding eye contact. As he walked away, you looked at your husband.
"You interrupted a very stimulating conversation," you remarked, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
Peter ignored your remark, his eyes taking all of you in, "Follow me."
"For what?"
"I said, follow me," He hissed in your ear, the grip he had on your hip tightening. The dominance sent heat straight to your core.
You simply nodded your head, following your husband out of the living room, down the hallway. You were disappointed to be lead to a room, rather than the front door.
Peter opened the door, motioning for you to step inside. You obeyed, walking in first. He quickly followed you.
It was some study. A couple of bookshelves, a nice mahagony desk, a chair that looked quite comfortable. The sudden click of a lock turning broke you out of your thoughts.
Oh.
So that's what he wanted.
"Get on your knees." You thought about making some bratty remark. Considered telling him to make you.
But the hunger in his eyes told you that wasn't the best idea.
You sunk down to the carpet, thankful there was some cushioning for your knees. The sight of your husband undoing his tie as he walked over to you made you clench your thighs.
Peter stood in front of you, armed crossed, his clothed erection now at eye level. You looked up at him, waiting.
"Go ahead."
Your hands reached up to his crotch, unbuttoning his pants. You made quick work of freeing his cock. You wrapped a hand around the base, leaning forward to-
"Did I say you could do that?" Peter asked sternly. You shook your head, removing your hand.
"Who do you listen to?" Peter's hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up.
He was in a mood.
Good thing you knew how to fix that.
"Y-you, Peter. Only you," You shifted from one leg to another, trying to soothe the ache between your legs.
He smirked, "That's right. Now suck."
You wasted no time taking Peter into your mouth, going as far as you could without gagging. It was so sudden, he nearly stumbled backwards. You used your free hand to grip his hip.
"Fuck, baby...." He was breathless, "Such a good mouth. And all mine."
You did your best to nod as you continued to bob your head up and down on his cock. The groans and grunts coming out of Peter's mouth went straight to your core.
"Stop," He ordered. You pulled his cock out of your mouth, dropping your hands. You looked up at him, waiting for the next set of directions.
His hand cupped half of your face, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip. Your lipstick was most likely smeared but who cared at this point?
"Who's good girl are you?"
"Y-your's, Daddy." Judging by the grin on Peter's face, it was safe to assume he was pleased to hear you refer to him by his favorite bedroom nickname.
"Why don't you bend over that desk so Daddy can remind you that no one else can fuck you so well?"
You nodded your head, standing up. You slowly walked over to the desk, gripping the edge as you bent over.
In a matter of seconds, you felt two hands all over your body. Your chest, your throat, your ass, your thighs. Peter's hands finally landed on the hem of your dress, pulling it up towards your hips.
"You've been walking around this whole party with no underwear?" He pulled you so your back was against his chest.
"F-for you. Wanted to surprise ya," you somehow managed to get out with Peter's hand gripping your throat. The cool metal of his rings provided additional pressure.
"Ya liked it when that kid tried to flirt with ya?" You shook your head.
"N-no! Only want you, D-Daddy." You gasped at two of his fingers entering you.
"You're so fucking wet, I don't even have to prep ya. How'd I get so lucky?"
You saw me on a billboard and somehow got my Manager's number, is what you wanted to say. But that wouldn't get you his cock.
"P-please fuck me. Want ya s'bad, Daddy," you didn't care that you were whining. The ache between your legs was burning you alive.
Peter bent you over the desk, entering you in one smooth motion.
You yelled at the sensation of him filling you up instantly. Half of Peter's men had already heard you two fucking from the countless "breaks" he took during meetings at your house. Their wives would give you a dirty look at the next dinner party and then stay silent about it.
Peter pulled out of you, slamming back in to create an unrelenting pace. You gripped the edge of the desk, desperate to steady yourself.
"Ya like it when Daddy fucks you nice and hard?"
You nodded your head, a gasp escaping when you felt his cock brush up against that sweet spot.
"Love it s'much. Feels s'good." It was difficult to tell if you were drunk from the alcohol or your husband's cock, or both.
"You're mine. All mine."
"All your's D-Daddy."
"Maybe I should fuck a baby into ya. Make everyone know that only I get to fuck this amazing cunt." His words sent you closer and closer to the edge.
"Ya want that?" Peter tugged on your ponytail, forcing you to tilt your head back to look at him.
"Yes! P-please. Want it s'bad. Want your cum s'bad." Your moans continued as you felt two of Peter's fingers begin to circle your clit.
"Then come on Daddy's cock. Show me how bad ya want it."
The sound that escaped your lips was animalistic. Your orgasm knocked you over like a wave in the ocean. If it wasn't for Peter's arm wrapped around your waist, you probably wouldn't be able to stand.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby," You heard Peter mumbled as he continued fucking you through your orgasm.
With a gutteral groan, Peter's hips stilled as he came inside of you. The two of you stood there, holding onto each other as you tried to catch your breath.
"Ya really meant that? About wanting a baby?" He whispered. There was a hint of nervousness in his voice- something only you got to see.
You titled your head back, bringing one of your hands up to caress the back of his neck.
"You're the only person I want to have kids with. No one else."
He pressed a chaste kiss against your lips. You could feel the smile spreading across his face.
"We should...we should call your doctor. Get that IUD taken out," He said when he broke away.
You chuckled, "We should clean up first."
"Yeah, I think I have a handkerchief in my pocket," Peter looked around, locating the jacket that was halfway across the room.
"Well, if anything drips onto the carpet, we'll just blame Jason," He said, chuckling as he prepared to pull out of you.
"Peter!"
"What?"
1K notes · View notes
liz-allyn · 1 year
Text
sugar and vice, pt 2 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]
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summary: Peter makes a daring rescue to save Honey. Or is this a rescue at all? more shameless trope pining.
words: 5.5k
warnings: mob-typical violence. whump. hurt/comfort. bandaging wounds. ouchy hurt boo boo. lots of crying. references to assault. someone gets tortured. shameless forced proximity trope. imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions.
you're responsible for your own content consumption. but that being said, if you're too young to remember the ipod nano, this aint for you, chief.
Back to Part 1
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Part 2
How many state capitals can you name?
Montgomery. Juneau. Phoenix. Little Rock.
She was running out of questions to distract herself. She’d already gone through listing all of Stephen King’s novels. All of the Presidents. All of the elements of the Periodic Table. She was running out of distractions.
Sacramento. Denver. Hartford. Dover.
She’d been to Delaware once for a funeral. The whole state was a graveyard. She was going to be killed and who would be at her funeral? Would her dark-eyed friend be the one to murder her?
Tampa. Atlanta. Honolulu. Fuck! Tallahassee, not Tampa… Montgomery. Juneau. Phoenix. Little Rock. Sacramento—
Would he make it quick? Would it be him or would it be one of the people from the car? Did he know the two men that took her from the train? Did he order them to take her? Then what was that gunfire? Why did it seem like they were running?
She didn’t know how much time had passed since she had been brought to a room, sat down, and left alone under the dark of the hood obscuring her vision. Heated but hushed voices echoed from the other side of a wall. They were too muffled to comprehend, but the frantic frustration was unmistakable.
She could barely make out the words.
“She’s a liability now, Parker! Where’s she gonna go?”
Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest. The conversation got quieter.
Montgomery. Juneau. Phoenix. Little Rock. Sacramento. Denver. 
The sound of a door lock startled her. Her body went rigid as a door opened wide. She swallowed hard, unable to get the image of the gun in Peter’s grip out of her mind. Heavy footsteps approached her. Her lip quivered beneath the hood. If the shot was coming, maybe it was better for it to come now. Maybe it was better if she didn’t see it coming.
The hood came off of her head, revealing a dark room only illuminated by a window. The night lights of the city skyline sparkled in the distance. She was on a sofa—a loveseat facing a desk. As far as she could tell, she was in some sort of office or study. And crouched down in front of her, was her dangerous friend.
Peter held his hands up in a placating manner, letting the hood drop to the floor. “Don’t cry, Honey. It’s just me.”
The sweetness of his voice made her heart beat faster. She cursed the treacherous bitch for allowing that to happen, after everything.
Just him. As if that was supposed to mean anything. Is he Peter, or is he Ben? Does it matter which one he’d tell her? And what other option did she have to respond, other than crying? Her mouth was still taped shut.
He studied her features in a way that made her squirm. His face was solemn as he considered her. He huffed a sigh. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me,” he declared in an apologetic tone. His cocoa eyes glistened with regret. “You’re probably feelin’ angry with me right now. I get that. You’ve been nothin’ but sweet to me and I... I—” 
He stopped short of finishing the sentence as if his jaw locked up. A wrinkle creased his brow. He glanced down at the floor, then looked back up at her. “I’m gonna ask you to do somethin’ for me,” he began. “You don’t have any reason to owe me anything, I see that, I do. I don’t have the right to ask. But I’m still gonna ask.”
A hand came up to rub the back of his neck. The gesture made him seem more anxious, more boyish. Not the same man that marched into the garage holding a gun. Not the same man that ordered his man to blindfold her.
“You’ve always been patient with me,” he continued, dancing around a topic he didn’t want to address. “Even when I’m not my best. I need you to be patient with me now. Take a chance on me, Honey.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She really wished it wouldn’t do that.
He gazed at her, lowering his voice to an even more soothing tone. He emanated calm and control. “I’m gonna help you off the sofa, then we’re gonna leave this room,” he said. “We’re goin’ to the last door at the end of the hallway, okay? Nod if you understand.”
She stared at him like a deer in the crosshairs. After a moment, she nodded.
“Okay, good,” he replied. He reached for her. “Easy now.”
He put his hands around her upper arms and attempted to lift her weight from beneath her shoulders. A flash of pain erupted like her deltoids were on fire, and she winced and whimpered behind the tape.
Immediately, he pulled back his hands with a sour look. An edge of irritation returned to his eyes, in a way she’d remembered from the coffee shop when those goons showed up, except now they were alone and that look was rendered at her. Or so she thought.
Tears welling up again, she avoided his gaze. She sank further into the couch, as if that was even possible, and shook like a leaf. He stood before her wordlessly. She could only hear a heavy exhale through flared nostrils.
Seconds passed, then Peter bent at the waist, placing his hands on her hips. She shuddered at the pressure, the warmth and width of his hands on the crest of her hips. He held her in a steady grip, bringing her to her feet, this time with less pain. 
Upon standing, she looked up and locked eyes with him. It stilled his motion, and he stood with her pressed up against his chest, looking down at her with darkening eyes. His body was solid mass through his white dress shirt. It occurred to her that she’d never seen him without a coat before. Her heart was fluttering, and she wondered if he could feel it. She felt suddenly pliant, legs turning into rubber. 
Dizzy, she wavered a bit, blinking her eyes rapidly. It could’ve been the adrenaline spiking again, building pressure rising up beneath her skin. Perhaps it was her lack of real food since her distant lunch. Perhaps it was heat stroke, the way his gaze burned into hers.
He gripped her tighter. Swallowed hard.
Reluctantly, he released his hold, moving a hand to her lower back. “C’mon.”
She gulped. Hesitantly, she let him lead her to the door. Once they went through the doorway, he escorted her down the hall just as he had said. It was dark, but she could see light from beneath the closed door at the end of the hall.
Her boots felt heavy again. Her mind was screaming at her to run, but where would she go? 
“S’okay,” he stated softly, reading the slowing of her steps for what it was. “Almost there.”
He brought her to the solid door, twisting the handle and opening it. The only thing her brain could register was a massive king-sized bed in the middle of the room. She pushed back on his palm, attempting to wrench away from him. He grabbed her from behind, his arms holding her in place.
“Easy, easy, s’okay,” he tutted. 
But she was short-circuiting. Her mind was filled with violent images, clouding her sense of reason. A shriek crawled up her throat, desperately clawing at the adhesive of the duct tape over her mouth. 
“Hey, s’okay, it’s okay!”  He was holding her against the brick wall of his chest again. She shook her head desperately, struggling to break free to no avail. She could feel his heartbeat against her back. 
He pressed his cheek against her temple, his arms pulling her in with crushing strength that lifted her feet from the floor. “Enough!” he snapped, with a shockingly harsh tone. 
The simple admonishment made her go limp. She sobbed desperately.
His head fell backward and he let out a long sigh, frustration evident within him. He softened his grip, and instead of pinning her, it felt much more like an embrace. He bent his neck and his lips went to her temple again, his breath hot on her skin.
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he breathed into her hair. She felt the slow rise and fall from his chest. The kindness had returned to his voice. He took another deep breath, and she felt it reverberate in her. “No one is gonna hurt you,” he declared, more authoritative this time. She matched her next breath to his. 
They stood in silence for another few seconds. Her gaze traveled from the bed to the expanse of the room. The dark colors and modern accents. The yellow source of tungsten light spilled from an open doorway. 
“Now we’re gonna walk forward. Into the bathroom.”
He began to walk forward, and her feet moved in accordance. After the first few concordant steps, he loosened his grip on her. She felt the absence of his body heat as they stepped onto a tiled floor, turning a corner to a grand bathroom bigger than her meager apartment bedroom.
It was stunning; a mix of classic beauty and masculinity. Adorned with black marble, gold fixtures, and subway tile. Her eyes soaked up the details with an unintentional gasp. Inappropriately, she wished for her phone to save the image to the Pinterest board of her bathroom dreams.
“It’s okay,” he gently reminded her. Hearing his voice pulled her back to her reality. Her eyes snapped over her shoulder, up to him, then back forward as they approached a freestanding clawfoot tub filled with steaming water.
Her feet got heavy again and he turned her to face him. She looked up at him with a face full of confusion and betrayal. It only seemed to sour him further.
“I need you to trust me, remember?” Peter said to her. “I’m gonna take off the tape, but I need you to get in the water first.”
She felt her head shaking. Tears streaming.
“It’s the tape,” he explained. “Your skin is already reacting to it. If I try to pull it off now, it’ll take your skin with it.” She quirked a brow up at him. “We’re gonna use the soapy water to soak the tape on your wrists. The stuff on your mouth, I have a solvent for.”
She blinked, looked at the water, and back up to him.
“You don’t have to undress or anything,” he answered, again reading her mind with stunning accuracy. “We can take off your boots and you can step right in if you don’t mind getting your clothes wet.” She watched the Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “I’m not gonna try anything,” he whispered quietly, “I swear.”
She lost herself in his eyes again. She studied the honey of his irises, a golden glow enhanced by the vanity lamps. She thought of caramel and chocolate and bourbon. And the tang of oranges, the smokey smell and flavor of an Old Fashioned she had three years ago at The Flatiron Room on an otherwise disappointing date—
“You with me?” he spoke so softly it could be a croon. Brought his hands up and she felt the rough pads of his thumbs brushing away her tears.
Her eyelashes fluttered closed at the sensation. That dizzy feeling hit her again, and she tried to swallow it down. When her eyes opened, she saw her friend staring back at her, the shadow of a smile adorning his face.
She spent too long gazing up at him like he was some sort of Prince Charming. Composing herself, she straightened and gave him a nod.
Having gathered her meaning, he responded with a subtle smirk, before putting it away. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees in front of her, never breaking eye contact. The action made her stomach weak. Made her avert her eyes. He deftly began untying the laces of her boots and braced her lower back to pull off her shoes. 
Though he didn’t request it, she peeled her wool socks off next. She could have wet jeans and a wet shirt, but wet socks made her skin crawl. Once her bare feet were on the tiled floor, he came to a stand. He placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her as she stepped into the deep tub. 
The warm water felt instantly soothing as she lowered herself into it. Her hands prickled with the sensation of the hot water reheating her abused limbs. He was right about her skin—she hissed at an immediate sting where the tape was. The thought of ripping off the duct tape over her mouth as fast as possible seemed more unpleasant.
She sat down with arms bound behind her, looking up at him as he sat beside the tub.
“The soap’s gonna help dissolve the adhesive,” he explained, pulling up a tray within his reach. A mass of dry cotton balls, cotton swabs, and gauze was neatly organized on it, next to several bottles of solution. It was bizarrely efficient. It made her wonder how many times he’d done this before.
He went to work, rolling up the arms of his sleeves up to his elbows. She pulled her eyes away from the sight of his toned forearms. 
His fingers went to her face and she couldn’t help but flinch. He made note of it, lips pursed into a straight line, but said nothing. Slower, he reached for her hairline and a razor-sharp sting of her flesh reminded her that she had taken at least one good hit to the face. 
His burnt-auburn eyes were now focused, a line forming in his brow as he studied a blood-crusted cut she couldn’t see. 
“This one’s deep,” he said with a frown. “It’ll need liquid stitches. I’mma take care of this first before it gets worse.” His hands left her sensitive flesh as he came to a stand, moving across the bathroom into a medicine cabinet where more first-aid supplies were located. 
While his back was turned, she rolled her eyes in frustration. The tape on her mouth was clearly the more pressing issue. 
“Can you bear with me a couple of minutes before I take the tape off?” he asked perceptively. It was starting to get creepy. He sat down beside her again. “Just relax. It’ll be easier to do it now.” He dabbed a cotton ball with alcohol. “And it’ll be harder for you to bite me.”
Her eyes darted to his face, her body tensing. She had bitten one of her captors hard enough to draw blood. He busied himself with cleaning and dressing the wound while she pondered the possibility that Peter had been behind her kidnapping earlier in the evening.
That neck-less, ginger bastard – Katz? – dragged her off the train without any regard for whether or not she felt safe. Particularly right before he knocked her out. Did he work for Peter? She hadn’t seen his face since.
“Your heart’s racing,” he informed her, breaking her chain of thought. He swallowed hard, a solemn look plastered firmly on his face. “I wasn’t lying when I said no one was going to hurt you.” His eyes rested on the wound as he delicately pinched her flesh together. “Not again,” he sighed, disappointed.
A few seconds passed as he carefully coated the cut in the liquid stitch solution. He looked pained, increasingly irritated. “I’m sorry about all this,” he blurted out. “I-I never shoulda come back to see you. I... I-I’m sorry about everything. Never meant for any of this to happen.” His sad eyes found hers. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t mean much, I know. But I hope you believe me.”
She stared. Considering. Decided that she did. She had to. Tied up, sitting waist-deep in this strange man’s bathtub, she had nothing else but her hope.
He took a cotton swab and dipped it in a jar of pristine petroleum jelly. One hand delicately lifted her chin, angling her face upward toward him, as he took a corner of the tape at her mouth and began to work the petroleum beneath the strip. He meticulously followed that action with a warm, wet compress, and then a cotton ball of isopropyl alcohol. The tape hurt as it slowly gave way, but less than it could’ve. 
The peaceful silence gave her time for her brain to slow down. Time to think. Time to plan. Time to question those plans. Question her judgment.
“Alright, almost done,” he said, then gave a small tug on the tape. The moment her lips were unsealed she took a deep breath. She hadn’t realized how much her breathing had been restricted. 
Peter reached back for her with a square of medical-grade adhesive remover. 
“Don’t touch me,” she spat, jerking her head out of his reach. He froze immediately, lifting his hands away where she could see them. Behind her, she pulled and tugged on the duct tape, the glue now having partially dissolved. She winced as she pulled her wrists apart.
“I was gonna get to that—”
She bit down on a yelp at the burn of the tape ripping off, taking bits of hair and drops of blood with it. She pulled her arms in front of her, revealing angry red welts on her wrists. Her shoulders felt like a stretched-out rubber band, tender to each movement. 
“Okay,” he nodded bitterly, frustration poking through. “Tape’s off. You’re bleeding. Well done—”
“Stay away from me!” she barked. She scooted back as far as she could away from him in the bathtub. Her eyes were wide and wild, like she really could bite him at any moment. He sat back on his ankles, staring at her. Displeased. 
“Take it easy,” he softly ordered, cool as ever.
“I-I don’t know who you are or-or what you’re into,” she babbled frantically. “But you—you better lemme go!” She panted heavily, words flowing out of her mouth, “My-my boyfriend is a cop! He tracks my phone. He’ll know I didn’t come home and-and when he turns on the tracker, he’ll see that I’m here... and he’ll bring fifty cops with him!”
Peter stared at her flatly, raising a brow. It was clear by his reaction that he wasn’t impressed. “Fifty?” he repeated, deadpan. “That’s a lot. Where’re they gonna park?”
“I’m serious!” she growled.
“Oh, yea-yeah, I know,” Peter nodded, pulling himself into a crouch at the tub. “This boyfriend of yours,” he added, swallowing grit as he said it, “he got a name?”
She blinked. “Jefferson.”
“Jefferson?”
“Scott.”
“Is it Scott or is it Jefferson? Is it Jefferson Scott?”
His mocking tone filled her with a flash of anger. She seethed, swearing at herself not to cry again. “Let me go!” she demanded with a glare. “And I promise, he won’t kill you when he finds me!”
The humor evaporated from his eyes like a droplet of water in a frying pan. “A promise?” Peter repeated, his cocky smile fading. He went motionless. Eyes dark. A chill shot down her spine. “Where was ‘Jefferson’ when Fisk’s men grabbed you tonight?” She swallowed hard. Refused to blink. “Really coulda used his help,” he bit off.
Her heart was beating faster than before. Pounding like a kickdrum beneath her ribs. His blackened eyes narrowed on her. “Do you have any idea,” he questioned bitterly, “what they would’ve done t’ya? If I hadn’t gotten there first?” 
The calm tone of his overt implications made her queasy again. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for a reply. 
She gulped. Steadied her voice. “Who's to say they don’t work for you?” 
“They don’t work for me,” Peter declared, ice in his eyes. 
“You expect me to believe—”
“They don’t work for me,” he repeated, as serious as a heart attack, “because I don’t employ assholes who beat on women.” He leaned forward, his chest puffing up, his words coming out in a low hiss. “Because if I want something done, I do it myself. Especially when it comes to protecting what’s mine.” His eyes narrowed, “And we both know you don’t have a boyfriend.” 
She blinked at him, dumbstruck. Peter declared through gritted teeth, “You could send fifty cops or fifty-thousand. If someone took my girl, I’d get there first. And there’s not a damn thing you could say to keep me from rippin’ him apart.”
She shifted backward, arms wrapped tightly around her body, stunned by the switch in demeanor. He sat across from her, quietly glaring, chest heaving with pent-up rage. Her throat felt tight. Her pulse pounded in her neck.
Seconds passed as they gazed at each other in a stalemate. He was the first to look away, his breathing conscientiously slowing down. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, keeping his head turned away from her sight.
“Don’t lie to me,” Peter said, finally. “Ever.” He looked up at her, eyes a bit softer. “It’s very important that you never lie to me. When people lie to me, it puts me at a disadvantage. Makes it harder for me to protect the people I care about.” He sniffed, stowing his emotional baggage from earlier. “So please,” he gently requested, “don’t lie.”
He kept his eyes downward as if he was more interested in the state of the grout. She had witnessed him rear up like a cobra and now he was slinking away, sheepishly hiding from her gaze. 
There was that word again — protection. His focus is protecting the people he cares about. Protecting what’s his. She eyed him carefully, her muscles relaxing a bit. This was happening because she was a threat to him. Did that mean in some way, she had power over him? 
He wiped his nose with his forearm, still avoiding her eyes. “You hurt anywhere else?” She blinked up at him, confused. Her silence made him meet her gaze again, and this time the sympathy and remorse had returned. “Anywhere I can’t see?”
She stiffened once she caught his meaning. Breaking eye contact, she gazed down at the tiny bubbles coating the surface of the water. “Um... no.” She answered as honestly as she could. “I don’t... I don’t think so.” The statement felt like a lump in her throat. She felt her eyes burn again, and she angrily dared her body to defy her again. She couldn’t handle it.
“Okay,” he nodded. After a moment, he came to a quick stand. His orders flowed more formally. “There are towels over here. There’s a robe on the door. Cat’s gettin’ you some clothes. Should be here soon. Leave the wet stuff on the edge of the tub. When you’re done in here, come outside of the bedroom. I’ve got one more thing I need from you tonight, Honey.”
He turned on the leather sole of his heel and disappeared from her sight, as fast as ever. She sat in the rapidly cooling water of the tub, tenderly rubbing the swollen flesh of her wrists. She listened to his footsteps diminish. The door slammed, a bit too forcefully.
Alone, finally, she allowed herself to cry again.
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About fifteen minutes after being left alone, she emerged from the main bedroom with a thick white terry robe blanketing her. With nothing but her thoughts and growing exhaustion, she decided not to keep Peter waiting too long. She’d completed each task on his list, as a good houseguest should. Or whatever she was.
She found him leaning back against the wall in the darkened hallway, hands in his pockets, musing quietly.  He turned to look at her with a much calmer mood. Both of them cooled off from their earlier spat, but an awkwardness remained. An elephant in the room neither of them wanted to address.
“C’mere,” Peter beckoned, jerking his head down the hall. “I wanna show you something.” He turned and approached a flight of stairs, descending it. She had no other option but to follow. 
They reached the main level of the residence where she took in the sight of an open-floor living room and kitchen surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows. Though it was night, this was the most well-lit area she had seen. It was spotless, and carried the same modern, refined-industrial aesthetic that she saw in the bathroom. 
She recognized the lanky teenager on the couch, sitting with arms crossed, head bobbing to music blaring out of over-the-ear headphones. Miles sat quietly in his own world, brow furrowed, as he focused on the beat of the music. 
Tapping away at her smartphone, the silver-haired woman from the car ride paced idly. She was even more gorgeous in person. Peter approached her, hands in his pockets, and nodded in Miles’ direction.
“What, is it time for a siesta?” Peter muttered disapprovingly.
The woman gave him a go-to-hell look. “Lay off, will ya? You know how he gets.”
“We need to keep our eyes open,” Peter responded grimly. “That means on alert, Felicia.”
“Jesus Christ, Parker,” she groaned with a petulant sigh. “Seriously?” The woman, Felicia, looked up incredulously at their houseguest, then back to her boss. “What happened to discretion? You wanna give her my social security number, too?”
“Where’s O’Hara?” Peter replied.
She rolled her eyes, dropping her arms. “Fuck it, then. In the basement with Brock. That’s Eddie Brock, if anyone here is taking notes for the FBI.” She turned, minding her phone again. “If you need me, I’ll be keepin’ my eyes open, with your credit card, waiting for the Postmates guy to deliver your lady friend a new wardrobe.” 
Peter rolled his eyes with a light scoff.
“And just for that, I’m buying myself my Christmas present from Fendi,” she called back, a deadpan tone. “Thanks, Boss. You really shouldn’t have.” 
Peter glanced over at his Honey, who was curiously watching the familial interaction in silence. He jerked his chin again, approaching a metal door frame near the foyer. “This way.”
He tapped a button on the wall, calling up an elevator. She shuffled uncomfortably on her bare feet, but then followed him into the tiny space. They stood together in silence as the elevator descended. 
Once it opened, they were in a dark, dingy, brick-laid fortress, a stark contrast from the exquisite rooms above. He stepped out of the elevator, and hesitantly, she followed, wishing she’d put on her boots. 
The space felt claustrophobic, littered with dust-covered junk. Mostly paper boxes. There was a table with an old computer that looked at least 30 years old, surrounded by glass beakers and antiquated lab equipment. She spotted a retro green chalkboard on castors, half-shrouded in a tarp. 
As much distance as she wanted to put between herself and Peter, she also crowded at his back. She felt cobwebs brushing her ankles, and the sensation made her want to fold herself up like origami.
They turned a corner and she froze. Mouth agape with horror. 
Bound and gagged in the middle of the basement was Katz. The man looked rough. Barely conscious. His face was bruised, bloodied, and jagged, the bones having been broken and rearranged. On either side, Miguel and another thick mass of man—Eddie Brock for anyone taking notes for the FBI—stood by. She watched Eddie anxiously as he wiped his hands with a blood-stained shop rag.
The sight of tortured man made her gag. Tears sprang to her eyes as she glanced away in terror.
“S’Okay,” Peter tutted, taking her by the shoulders and keeping her back to their tortured captive. She was grateful for that kindness, as it spared her the sight of the half-dead man.
“Remember I told you that you could trust me?” Peter asked, tilting his head towards her. She was gasping. Sucked in air, like a fish out of water. “Honey, look at me.” 
Her stomach quaked and she worried that she’d vomit. Despite this, she looked up at him. Once he had her attention, he went on. 
“This man works for somebody very dangerous,” he explained slowly. “He had direct orders to kidnap you and take you to one of his places. A mechanic’s shop near the docks on the Lower East Side that he uses for business. Once they had you there, he and a bunch of his friends were supposed to hurt you.”
Her chest heaved violently, tears flooding her vision. She shook her head and tried looking away. Felt faint. Like she was going to pass out. Gently, Peter hooked his fingertips beneath her chin, bringing her gaze to his.
“They were ordered to take pictures,” he softly added, more gentle with his choice of words, “and send them to me.” A heartbroken sob escaped her lips and he winced, as if the sound alone caused him physical pain. “Listen, listen, listen,” he cooed, shushing her. 
He dipped his head, leaning his forehead against hers. It was intimate. Too close for the relationship that they had, but at the same time, she was starving for it. The sensation of his warm skin against hers, the heat of his lungs ghosting on her face—they worked to ground her. She focused on what was happening and not what could have happened.
“I never got any pictures,” Peter explained tenderly. “He says they never got that far.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, her chin quivering. She leaned into the touch of his thumb gently stroking her jaw. When she could open her eyes again, she found his. His cocoa orbs gazing down at her compassionately. 
“Remember what I said about lies?” he asked with a kind voice. “Remember I asked you never to lie to me?”
Another quiet sob whimpered out. She nodded her head.
“Tell me the truth now, Honey,” he said. He lifted his forehead, gazing into her soul. “Is that the man that hit you?”
She shuddered at the memory. Terror gripping her. Heart pounding.
“Words, Honey,” he tutted gently. “I need you to say it. Tell me the truth.”
“Yes,” she whimpered in reply. She brought her hands up to cover her face, but he wouldn’t allow it. 
“Good girl,” he answered. “You don’t need to hide.”
The tears kept coming. “I can’t.... I can’t—”
“S’okay, we’re almost done,” he cooed, bringing a hand up to stroke her hair. “Now this part’s really important. I want you to think. I don’t want you to be afraid. Just think.” 
She cried even harder. Her body swayed. She felt like a lone tree being pummeled by a hurricane. As much as she wanted to collapse, he held her upright. “Please,” she begged, but she wasn’t sure what for. “I don’t want... I can’t...”
He wrapped his hands around her cheeks, his fingers reaching around her head. “Just look at me, Honey,” he replied. 
Sniffing hard, she complied. He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t decode. It was a blend of anger, sadness, and pain all at once. He swallowed hard, as if he was trying to steady himself.
“Tell me the truth,” he said with a voice void of its own breath. “Did this man, or any of the other men, hurt you?” She shook her head rapidly. “Did they touch you?”
“No,” she sobbed.
“Don’t lie—”
“No!” she shouted desperately. 
He exhaled slowly, letting out a breath he’d been holding. “Good,” he nodded, seeming to relax. His hands rubbed her arms, taking extra care around her shoulders. “That’s good.”
“Boss,” a voice called from behind them. She looked beyond Peter to see Miles standing anxiously near the elevator entrance. He wore a hollow expression. Breathed through his mouth only. “You think she could use some sleep?”
Peter gazed at the younger man, a mixture of grief and gratitude. “Yeah,” he nodded, blinking away tears that had begun to form at his lashes. “That’s a good idea. Take her upstairs, wouldya?”
Miles nodded once, and stepped forward. Hesitantly, Peter let go. Honey shot out of his arms like a spooked cat, clinging to Miles’ chest and burying her face there. Vicious sobs racked through her body. Miles placed a hand on her back and led her back out of the basement.
Peter watched her go sadly. Didn’t turn away until he heard the elevator doors close.
“So,” Eddie’s deep voice chimed in, fixing his grim blue-green eyes on Peter. “What now?”
Both Miguel and Eddie watched the tense curve of Peter’s shoulders. The balling of his fists. 
“Hammer,” he replied, voice as dark as night. Peter turned and stalked toward the captive. He snatched a bloodied hammer off a workbench nearby. Eyes widening with fear, Katz began to jerk in his seat, pulling desperately on his restraints. 
“You should be grateful, Nicky,” Peter sneered, acid in his voice. “This coulda gone another way.” He loomed over the captive, eyes blacker than oil, nostrils flaring. He gripped the handle so hard, it’s a wonder it didn’t snap in his hand.
“If I found out you were lyin’ to me,” Peter said, vengeance coating his voice, “I woulda gone for the pruning shears.”
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