#tom holland angst to fluff
Note
Hey! Could you do Tom Holland x reader one with #3 from the Autumn prompts list plz 💙 The setting could be that the reader came over to Tom's house when it's pouring rain outside.
Warmth : Tom Holland x Reader
Description: 41.k wc fluff fic for the prompt "let’s get you out of these wet clothes". Y/n’s boyfriend cheats on her and her best friend Tom is there to help her through it.
Warnings: mentions of reader’s boyfriend cheating, angst, breakups, confessions, kissing, pining, a few curse words I think.
As y/n walked through the damp streets of Kingston upon Thames, the rain blended with the tears flowing from her puffy eyes.
The streets were sparsely populated, cold, wet, and all around grim at this time of night.
Yet, she continued her lonely journey through them.
She was desperate for solace.
She longed for the consolation only her best friend Tom could provide.
Y/n had been walking for over an hour already tonight.
Her clothing was beyond drenched thanks to the insistent downpour the universe cruelly deemed necessary.
To say the universe was against her might seem dramatic.
However, after the events of today, y/n would beg to differ.
Her day had started out rough but salvageable.
It didn’t stay salvageable though.
First, she overslept.
Then came the burnt bagel and expired cream cheese of breakfast.
On her way out the door, she’d forgotten her phone.
She’d locked her keys in her car accidentally when they had fallen unbeknownst to her during a desperate attempt to rush back inside for her phone.
She wanted to merely crawl back into bed and call in sick.
But she let her optimism get the best of her and decided to stick it out.
Unfortunately, her day didn’t improve.
In fact, things only managed to get worse.
Although she’d made it to work after only a short delay, she got a speeding ticket on her way.
She then had to skip her lunch break to make up for her late arrival.
The one thing she’d held on to was knowing her boyfriend was going to be cooking dinner for them tonight.
She looked forward to the change, usually being the only one cooking or doing any housework.
He’d moved in a few months earlier but quickly took advantage of her already established routines she’d see for herself.
She hadn’t noticed at first that he’d let her do all the work, since she’d been so used to it already.
However, a few weeks ago after her best friend Tom asked her about it, she realized her oversight.
As such, she calmly requested that her boyfriend begin contributing.
Tonight was scheduled to be the first night he came through on that arrangement; having had multiple excuses arise before.
Yet, her night chose to match the rest of her day.
Upon arriving home she discovered there was food made.
Seeing this, she felt small glimmer of glee
That glee quickly turned sour when she noticed the two sets of dishes had both been eaten off of.
As her eyes turned to the bottle of wine and the two wine glasses on her dining room table, she felt the rest of her optimism extinguish.
One of the wine glasses had lipstick on it; and not y/n’s typical shade.
Left with no other choice but to face the inevitable, she dropped her bags and entered her house further in search of her boyfriend and the mystery woman.
Lo and behold, she found them red handed; in an extremely compromising position in y/n’s bedroom.
The argument that followed suit wasn’t much fun either.
But, she felt a twinge of pride upon promptly terminating the relationship and kicking him out of her house then and there.
That pride diminished as shame and dejection soon took over.
She didn’t want to be alone.
Nor did she want to be in this house right not.
While it was her house, it was tainted with the all too fresh sense of betrayal.
She knew there was only one person who she felt safe enough confessing her ex-boyfriend’s indiscretions to.
Her best friend Tom.
So, she’d quickly located her keys and made her way to her car.
However, evidently the universe wasn’t done with her yet.
As, it now just so happened that her car wouldn’t start.
When her keys were locked inside earlier, the lights were running.
But she didn’t worry about the battery as it started up enough to get to and from work.
Yet, that’s seemingly all it has left in it.
And without her ex boyfriend’s car here, she couldn’t jump start it.
So she decided to call Tom and see if he could pick her up.
Only, her phone was dead.
She wanted to scream and give up.
But she couldn’t get herself to go back inside.
Nor could she ignore the strong desire to see Tom.
So, she decided to walk to his house instead.
Even if it was an hour and forty five minute quest.
Hence why she was out on these desolate roads this late at night in pouring rain.
Most people would’ve turned around or not have begun the journey at all.
But Y/n needed to.
She needed Tom.
So, despite her Converse having been soaked through within minutes, she stubbornly didn’t let up.
While she was understandably shivering and would likely be sick, she knew it was worth it.
Only a few more minutes and she’d be at the door of her best friend’s house.
Only a few more blocks and she’d be able to be in Tom’s embrace.
——
Y/n bit her lip and began to wring out her sweater as she waited for Tom to come to the door after she knocked.
“Y/n?! Love, what’s going on?!” He gasped instantly, his eyes sorrowful and concerned.
Y/n’s lip trembled as she attempted to answer, but Tom just shook his head and tenderly pulled her inside.
“Shhh, I’ve got you” He promised, shutting the door behind them.
“Are you hurt?” Tom asked as he held her shoulders and looked her over.
She shrugged, “not physically”.
Tom’s body released some tension momentarily before it snapped back to its alert state.
“Emotionally?” He pressed quietly.
She gave him a weak half smile and looked down at her soppy shoes.
Tom sighed to himself before rubbing her arms, “we’ll fix that. But first, let’s get you out of these wet clothes”.
Y/n looked up and into his sympathetic eyes, “Yeah, sorry… I should-”.
He placed his left pointer finger over her lips, “shh, none of that. I’m glad you’re here”.
She sniffled and that was when Tom truly noticed the red puffiness of her eyes,m; clearly caused by tears and not the rain he hoped accounted for all the wetness on her cheeks.
“I’ve got that jumper you love, the purple one?” Tom said hoping to cheer her up, “let’s get you into that instead?”
She nodded and grabbed his hand as he led her down the hallway.
While he slipped away to get her some new clothes, she stood before the mirror in his bathroom.
When he came back in, he saw the look in her eyes and knew she’d been scrutinizing herself and appearance.
“What did he do?” Tom asked, standing next to her.
“What?” She questioned, not looking at him.
“I’ve never seen you look at yourself that way before Y/n. I’m assuming y/ex/n did or said something idiotic”
She sighed, “Yeah. But I’m just trying to understand why, and maybe -“
Tom cut her off as she stared at her reflection harshly, “mmm mmmm no, we’re not doing that. Whatever he did or said, it’s got nothing to do with you or your looks love”
She turned to him and gave him a soft smile, “Thank you Tommy”.
He nodded, setting the dry clothing down for her.
“I wasn’t sure what kind of trousers you wanted so I bright a few options. I’ll be on the sofa when you’re done” he told her, squeezing her hands.
“Oh,” he stopped in the doorway of bathroom, “icecream?”
She giggled faintly, bringing a smile to Tom’s face, “yes please”
“You’ve got it love” He nodded.
Y/n combed through her damp hair, drying it with the towel Tom left on the counter for her.
She quickly changed into the clothing he’d left her, opting for her favorite hoodie of his and a pair of his drawstring gray sweats.
Fortunately, the thickness of the sweater and jeans she had on earlier were enough to keep her undergarments from being soaked.
They were cold to the touch and perhaps faintly wet but barely noticeable.
She dabbed at the smeared makeup on her face before groaning when it didn’t budge and only smeared more.
Recalling the last time she’d spent the night at Tom’s, she knew she had some makeup wipes in one of his bathroom drawers.
She let out her first sigh of relief as she looked at herself in the mirror
She still looked down but not as pathetic as she did when she first entered the bathroom.
“Thank you Tom, this is so much better” she mumbled, stepping into the hallway.
Tom looked up from the living room at the end of the hallway and smiled at her, standing up as he began to walk to her.
“Are you warm?” He asked, his eyes scanning her again as he neared.
She nodded with a soft appreciative smile and slightly forced laugh, “much warmer, and less of a hideous mess”.
Tom’s eyebrow’s furrowed as he reached her, a pout on his lips, his arms now crossed over his chest.
“Did y/ex/n say that?” He asked, voice dripping with protective venom.
She shook her head, “no, I just saw my reflection”.
She laughed softly as he sent her a slightly irritated glare, “but also, can we not say his name?”
Tom’s gaze softened as he nodded and closed the distance, pulling her in for a warm hug.
She immediately melted into his embrace, her arms wrapped tightly around him to keep him close.
Tom held her back and cradled her head as he rubbed her neck.
She sniffled into his chest, making him wince and frown more.
“I’ve got you love, come on” he whispered, guiding her to the living room slowly.
Tom felt his heart clench as she walked awkwardly with him, refusing to let go of him for even a few seconds.
As he made it to the sofa, he aided her in sitting down beside him.
He still had his arms around her as she sat down and curled into his side.
——
After holding her in silence for several minutes, he gave her cheek a tender squeeze as the doorbell rang, “that’s the ice cream, I’ll be right back”.
“Please don’t let me go” she whispered, Tom’s breath catching as he saw the embarrassed look she gave him over her request.
Tom leaned back into the sofa, moving to cup her face in his hands, “never”.
She sniffled and her gaze silently scanned his face before settling on his eyes, “promise?”
Tom’s left thumb trailed her cheekbone, “I promise y/n. Love, you’re stuck with me, always”.
She curled her lips up softly at him, “thank you. I-I just really need you”.
He nodded, smiling tenderly at her, “you have me y/n/n, you’ve always had me. Just tell me what to do”.
Wiping her eyes she sniffled, “this is enough. This is everything, Tommy. There’s no where else I’d rather be or anyone is rather be with right now, thank you for letting me in”
Tom hummed, pulling her back to his chest, “I’ll always let you in y/n, you never need to question that love”.
“I wouldn’t have blamed you. I showed up unannounced, at an ungodly hour, looking like a drowned sewer rat” she giggled, tracing shapes on his chest beside where she was resting her face.
Tom rolled his eyes, rubbing her back, “you looked just fine love. You’re always beautiful y/n”.
She snuggled closer into him, “see, this is why I needed you, you always make me feel better”.
He smiled to himself proudly, “it’s my job, and I accepted that job with honor and deep responsibility”.
She giggled, still absentmindedly drawing imaginary shapes on his torso, “well, thank you”.
Tom hummed, “love, I have to ask…”
She nodded against him, signaling he could ask whatever was on his mind.
“You’ve made several negative comments about your appearance tonight, that’s not like you” he frowned, “why is that?”.
Y/n sighed, “I’m just questioning a lot about myself tonight”.
Tom paused, looking down and analyzing the way she was clinging to him.
“Love, I know you don’t want me to say his name… but is… your boyfriend… is he the reason?” He asked hesitantly.
She leaned back, looking shyly into his eyes, “he’s not my boyfriend anymore”.
Tom’s eyes widened, “the arsehole wasn’t truly daft enough to end it! Was he?”
Y/n shook her head, making Tom’s eyebrows raise in confusion but he kept his gaze soft.
“So… then, you ended things with the tosser?” Tom asked.
Y/n bit back the desire to giggle at the way Tom’s British vernacular and accent always shown through more when he was emotionally impacted.
Instead, she merely kept eye contact and nodded, waiting to see his reaction.
Tom visibly relaxed, but stroked her cheek as he asked his follow-up inquiry, “can’t say I’m disappointed. You know I’ve always said he didn’t deserve you, I’m glad you see that now. But, what happened?”
She bit her lip and broke eye contact, now nervous to admit what transpired.
She hadn’t had time to process or determine why it had happened.
So now she was worried how it would make her look if she couldn’t keep a boyfriend happy.
It didn’t help that y/n had long ago developed an unrequited crush on Tom.
She elected to push those unspoken feelings aside in the interest of their friendship and tried to move on.
But she didn’t care for the idea that he might understand why y/ex/n seemingly grew bored with her.
Tom watched y/n tenderly as he waited for her to answer.
He could see the hesitation in her eyes as she seemingly debated whether or not to answer.
“‘ey love, why I don’t I get the ice cream and then we can watch y/f/m?” He offered, changing the topic for her comfort.
She nodded, hesitantly sliding out of his arms.
“I’ll be right back ‘ere in a sec’ love” he promised, bending to kiss the top of her head as he stood up.
Y/n bit her lip at the familiar feeling she’d missed.
He would always kiss the top of her head when she wasn’t feeling well.
That is, unless she had a boyfriend; as he didn’t want to overstep or risk her partner suggesting y/n and Tom needed space.
However, she missed the behavior every time she needed comforting.
Feeling it again now only reminded her of that.
It also reminded her that her choosing to give y/ex/n a chance had been the reason she’d gone without the loving action.
Y/n frowned to herself as she regretted her decision to try and move on even more upon realizing that.
She knew it was likely platonic, but it still meant the world to her and made her feel bubbly inside.
Even if it was platonic, she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to give it up again.
Yet, she didn’t know what to do about that since she couldn’t just never date anyone only to be able to have him kiss her head when she wasn’t well.
——
“Woah, sweetheart, what’s with the increased sadness?” Tom frowned, suddenly before her again.
She blinked as she came back to the moment, realizing she was nearly in tears again.
Y/n rubbed her arms in embarrassment and shook her head.
Tom sighed but nodded softly, “okay, come ‘ere though”
Y/n complied and cuddled back into his arms as he held the ice cream tub behind her.
She shivered slightly from the cold of the dessert and Tom promptly draped the blanket from the back of the couch between her body and the ice cream.
“Open” Tom hummed softly, bringing a spooonful of ice cream to her lips.
She looked at the spoon and smiled widely, making Tom’s heart soar, “is that y/f/f?!”
Tom huffed, “‘course love, what else?”
She giggled and cupped his cheek before pulling his face to her shoulder, “thank you Tommy”.
As she released him, he lifted the spoon to her lips, smiling as she accepted the offering with excitement.
——
Tom stared as y/n rested on his chest while they watched y/f/m.
He sensed something, likely whatever happened with y/ex/n, was still bothering her.
But he could tell she was feeling much better than she was earlier tonight.
As he shifted his arms around her, she glanced up and smiled softly at him.
He smiled back before she turned around to watch the movie.
——
“Darling, are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Tom questioned, pouting as she glared at her phone.
Y/ex/n had called several times, resulting in her blocking his number and feeling dejected again.
“I… I…. He… he-“ she sighed, peaking up at him with sad eyes.
Tom pulled her to his chest, pressing his lips against her hair as she snuggled into him.
It took her a few moments of silence before she confessed what happened with y/e/n.
“Y/ex/n.. he cheated on me” she admitted, her voice so soft Tom barely heard it.
Yet, he felt his body go rigid with anger at her words.
Tom took a few shallow breaths as he tried to keep his anger at bay so he could focus on comforting her as he knew she needed him.
“Tom?” She questioned faintly, slowly leaning back to look at him.
He saw the look of not only sadness, but… worry in her eyes.
Why was she worried?
“Darling, I-“ he sighed loudly, “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry y/n-“.
She shook her head, “it’s okay”.
“No, it’s not” Tom grumbled, “you deserved better. You deserve someone who returns your love, not some wanker who acts like that”.
Y/n hummed softly, “I didn’t love him”.
“What?” Tom asked in shock.
She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes as she repeated herself, “I didn’t love y/ex/n”.
“You didn’t?” He questioned.
“No. I don’t know how he felt, he never said he loved me” she shrugged, “but I didn’t love him”.
Tom nodded slowly, still a bit shocked.
“I tried to. I just didn’t feel for him in that way” she admitted.
“It’s not something you can force or control y/n, that’s not your fault” Tom assured her.
She nodded, “but I.. I thought I might be able to at some point. And I though I was enough for him… but-“
Tom shook his head, hoping her face “you are enough. You are more than enough”.
She bit her lip and blinked shyly, “if I was, he wouldn’t have cheated Tom”.
Tom closed his eyes tightly and sighed, “he didn’t cheat because you weren’t enough. He cheated because he was an arsemonger who evidently couldn’t appreciate your value”.
Y/n hummed quietly, Tom’s eyes opening as he watched her, “my value?”
Tom nodded, his breath hitching before he elaborated, “Darling, any bloke should be honored to be chosen by you. You are by far worthy of more than you seem to realize. I know one day you’ll find someone who sees that and wouldn’t ever hurt you”.
Y/n smiled and blinked away some tears as she gazed up at him.
“No, I’m sorry” Tom gasped, wiping her tears.
She shook her head, “they’re happy tears Tommy”.
He sighed in relief and pulled her back to him, his lips lingering on her head as she focused back on the tv.
——
Tom was frozen as he watched y/n suddenly pull away from him and face him with her eyes full of love.
Before he could ask what was on her mind, her lips were on his, her hand on his cheek.
Tom tensed momentarily in shock but quickly relaxed into the kiss, having wanted a moment like this with her for years.
But, as he felt her still damp hair, he recalled the situation they were in.
Her boyfriend ex boyfriend, just cheated on her.
She was far too emotionally vulnerable and confused to be cognizant and intentional on her actions.
He reluctantly pulled away, hand on her shoulder to distance himself.
She opened her eyes and he saw fear, regret, and despair swimming in her irises
As he opened his mouth to explain why he pulled away she covered her face with her hands.
“Oh my god” she gasped, “I’m so sorry Tom. I… I… I shouldn’t have kiss you like that”
Tom tried to embrace her as she tucked her face to her chest, hands still hiding her face from him.
“I can’t believe I did that,” she sighed, hand tugging on her hair, “fuck I’m an idiot. I’m s-sorry”
Tom ignored the pain in his chest over her feeling stupid and regretting the kiss so deeply.
“Y/n” Tom began softly, reaching for one of her hands.
She shook her head, “I-I didn’t-“
He sighed tenderly, “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. You’re dealing with a lot right now. Don’t worry about it y/n/n, we can pretend it didn’t happen”.
She rubbed her hands aggressively down her face before finally lowering them and looking at him for the first time since the kiss.
“I…that’s not… am I not… was it bad?” she whispered.
Tom shook his head, “no, love. I’ve always known the man who wins your heart would be so bloody lucky, that only added more reasons “.
She felt her cheeks warm but sniffled as she stared at him, “then…. Why..? Why did-“
Tom sighed, grabbing her hand in his, “Why did I pull away?”
She nodded, but held up a hand to stop him before he could answer.
“Do you… was it always platonic?” She sighed, feeling embarrassed for having misread the situation.
Tom’s cheeks flushed as he rubbed the back of his neck, “no”.
Y/n wiped her face, stopping as Tom moved his free hand up to take over the action himself.
“But it is by now?” She asked shyly.
“Y/n, I don’t know that you’re in the right place to have this discussion righ now darling” he warned tenderly.
She took a deep breath, “I think now the perfect time because, if I didn’t do it now… I might not have taken the jump”.
Tom sucked in a breath, “what?”
“I’ve tried Tom. Truly, I have. I tried to not feel this way, I mean we’re friends. Best friends. And I love that” she said her voice shaking.
Tom squeezed her hand and stroked her cheek as he listened to her.
“I don’t think I can be just friends with you. Even if you don’t feel the same way anymore. I… I will always see you differently and want to be more” she whispered, closing her eyes.
Tom felt his lips grow into a wide grin and bit his bottom lip to control it.
“Y/n/n,” he began softly.
“I’m not saying we can’t be friends. I don’t want to lose you Tom. I can’t lose you. But, I don’t think I’ll ever not see you as something else, something…”
“More?” He asked for her.
She nodded, opening her eyes to gauge his reaction.
He smiled softly at her and took a deep breath.
“Love, I’m honored to hear you say all of that. But-“ he began.
“But” she sighed, shaking her head and looking away from him in disappointment.
Tom tugged her hand, his other hand tilting her face back to look at him, “please. Please just listen to me”.
She nodded and blinked slowly at him in silence.
“You are everything. Everything. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you” he confessed, stroking her cheekbone.
“I mean, bloody hell love, it hurts me just how much I ache for you. And to watch someone else be with you, especially someone who is idiotic enough to risk losing you, it kills me” Tom admitted, voice wavering .
“I’m so very in love with you y/n. But right now, you need time. Time to heal and move on from what he did. I’ll be here the whole time. And I’ll be here after” he said.
She sniffles, a small smile on her lips, “so, you’re not mad I kissed you?”
Tom chuckled and shook his head, “if I were your boyfriend, I’d pepper you with kisses”.
Y/n bit her lip, “but you don’t want to be my boyfriend..?”
Tom lifted her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles, “you’re not hearing me love. I want to focus on consoling you right now. If you still feel this way about me after… We can talk about us later, okay?”
She smiled, pressing her lips together to keep them from displaying an embarrassingly large grin, “us… I like the sound of that”.
Tom grinned, “as do I darling. But for now, movies and cuddles?”
Y/n nodded, “movies and cuddles”.
He pulled her back to his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly as she cuddled against his chest.
As Tom began the next movie, Y/n hummed softly, enjoying the warmth Tom instilled in her heart.
TOM HOLLAND MASTERLIST/NAVIGATION (INCLUDING CHARACTERS)
MY MAIN MASTERLIST/NAVIGATION (ALL MY WORKS)
Tom Holland Tag List (to be added please comment here): @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @justapurrcat @natswifeysblog15 @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @laylasbunbunny
#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfic#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland x fem!reader#tom holland x y/n#tom holland one shot#tom holland x yn#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x oc#tom holland x fem#tom holland fluff#tom holland comfort fic#tom holland angst#tom holland angst to fluff#tom holland boyfriend#tom holland cheat#tom holland comfort#tom holland hurt comfort#original post
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.
𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k
𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)
“please hold me”
it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.
“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.
“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.
adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.
you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.
“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”
“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”
“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.
“how did you–”
“i’m spider-man, baby”
“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.
“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”
“very. now come lay back down”
you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.
“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”
“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.
“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”
“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”
“okay fine, i’m done”
“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.
“you are truly such a big baby”
“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”
how could you deny him?
“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.”
“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.
“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.
you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.
“aww petey, you’re so adorable”
“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.
you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.
you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#peter parker smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland angst#tom holland smut#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield fluff#andrew garfield smut#spiderman x reader#spiderman fluff#spiderman angst#spiderman smut#peter parker blurbs#peter parker imagines#spiderman#andrew garfield#tom holland#marvel#peterparkerblurbs
14K notes
·
View notes
Text
Just to Learn That You Never Cared
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Synopsis: always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret
requested/idea by @usoppsstar
Masterlist
“Oh, hey. Your girlfriend left this in class.” One of Peter’s classmates said as he tossed Peter a hoodie.
“Oh. Thanks.” Peter said before realizing what the person had said. He turned the hoodie over in his hands and recognized it as yours. His face warmed up in a blush when he realized you had just been mistaken for his girlfriend. He shoved the hoodie into his bag and wondered if he should tell you or not.
Peter saw you later that night on a rooftop you frequented often. You were in your suit, as was he, but had your mask sitting beside you. You were munching on a bag of chips and wordlessly extended them to him when he landed on the rooftop beside you. He smiled graciously and took a few before sitting down next to you. Your knees were touching but neither of you moved away.
“You left this in physics, dingus.” Peter said and handed you your hoodie.
“Oh, thanks. We had to run out of there so fast to save that lady. I must’ve left it behind.” You smiled gratefully and pulled it over your head. Peter felt bad that his high tech suit had built in heaters and your homemade suit was probably leaving you freezing every night. He wanted to suggest sharing his warmth, but he didn’t want to overstep.
“I know. Thank God she called the police on those kids for selling lemonade without a permit. I’m really glad we left a test to go witness that heinous crime.”
“It’s not all bad. We did get to see the cops arrest her for wasting their time by making a fake police report, which is always satisfying. And the kids gave us free lemonade. But I think calling it “homemade” was bullshit. I know Minute Maid when I taste it.” You replied, making Peter chuckle.
“You’re right. Both those things were enjoyable.” Peter agreed. “But I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel like we have to leave class every other day.”
“I know. Why did we have to pick a college in such a Karen ridden neighborhood?” You sighed.
“Because we wanted to go to the good school with the good science program. We should’ve known the neighborhood would be full of bored housewives who call the police whenever they have a minor complaint. It was our own hubris.”
“It was.” You chuckled and said looked over at him. You exchanged soft smiles before you looked over at the city horizon. Peters eyes never left you and he cleared his throat to get your attention.
“So, uh, my aunt and I were gonna get Chinese food later. At the place that got shut down for being a front for money laundering but that was really just a front for a second Chinese food chain.”
“Oh, I love that place.”
“Yeah. It’s great.” He nodded. “Anyways, you should totally come-“
Peter was cut off by the police radio he wired to his phone going off. He rolled his eyes and checked what the alert was.
“Damn it. Robbery at the bakery on 9th.” He told you.
“Lowkey, I’d do the same. Their cream puffs made me cream.” You said as you put your mask back on.
“Haha, yeah.” Peter chuckled. “Wait, what?”
“You should get some sleep. I’ll handle the robbery. But I’ll catch you tomorrow, Parker. Get home safe.” You saluted him before falling backwards off the building.
“I love you too.” Peter sighed.
“Did you say something?” You asked and popped back up.
“No.” Peter quickly lied.
“Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.” You waved to him and disappeared again. Peter let out another sigh before swinging home.
The next day, you ran after one of your classmates once class was let out.
“Hey, Carly. I emailed you my notes from the class you missed.” You told her.
“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” She replied. “Oh, and could you tell your boyfriend that band practice is in the gym today?”
“Yeah, sure. No problem.” You agreed. She was about to walk away when you realized what she had said.
“Wait, what am I saying?” You wondered. “Who’s my boyfriend?”
“You know. That guy with the prescription shoes.” Carly answered. You tilted your head in confusion until you realized you knew exactly who she was talking about.
“Wait, Peter?” You laughed in surprise. You expected her to laugh too and reveal she was just kidding but she looked completely serious.
“Oh, right. Peter. Why do I always think his name is Timmy?” Carly wondered.
“Because he looks like a Timmy. He gets it all the time.” You waved your hand. “And his shoes are not prescription. He just bought women’s platform shoes because he wanted to be taller and didn’t think anyone could tell.”
“We can.” Carly mumbled.
“I know.” You agreed. “But, I’m getting off topic. Timmy is not my boyfriend. I mean, Peter is not my boyfriend.”
“Whatever label you guys use, can you tell him that wind ensemble is meeting in the gym instead of the choir room? The sopranos kicked us out again to practice or do drugs or something.” Carly explained. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and tried to figure out if she was joking or not.
“The label? I’m so lost. Who told you that Peter’s my boyfriend?”
“Nobody told me.” She shrugged. “Everyone just knows that you guys are a couple.”
“Well how would they know something that isn’t true?” You asked and folded your arms.
“I mean, it’s not like you guys try to keep it a secret. Between all the whispering and staying close by each other. Plus you’re always sneaking out of class together or showing up late. And if one of you is absent, the other always is too. It’s been like that since high school. People just put two and two together I guess. Why, did you want to to be secret?”
“I didn’t want it to be anything. We’re not even dating.” You insisted and felt like you were going crazy.
“You don’t have to deny it.” Carly laughed. “I know feelings are weird and gross and stuff and you’ve never been the relationship type, but I think this guy is good for you. He brings something out in you. I don’t know. But you guys are cute. I love seeing the nice loser and assertive pretty girl troupe in real life.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.” You calmed down momentarily and smiled a little. Carly walked away and your smile quickly faded when you remembered what she had said. You looked around the hallway and saw another student holding an instrument.
“Hey. Band nerd.” You called out to him.
“Me?” He asked and pointed to himself.
“Yes, you. You had to let go of your saxophone case to point to yourself. Have you seen my boyfriend today?” You asked him.
“Peter? I haven’t seen him since yesterday in-“
“That sentence better not end with “wind ensemble” or I’m gonna lose it.”
“It was wind ensemble.” He said quickly.
“I’m leaving.” You shook your head and walked away from him. You pulled out your phone and went straight to your schools “campus sweethearts” page on instagram. Sure enough, there was a picture of you and Peter sitting next to each other right at the top of the page. You had your head thrown back laughing at something he was saying and he was looking at you fondly. You let out a shocked gasp and before walking out into the courtyard to look for Peter. You spotted him on a bench and smiled.
“Yes. Thank you, small campus”. You pumped your fist and went to sit next to him.
“Oh, hi. I was just thinking about you-“
“Someone is spreading a horrible rumor about you.” You cut him off.
“Oh no.” Peter frowned. “What is it? Is it bad?”
“Horrible.” You shook your head. “Peter, they’re saying you’re in wind ensemble.”
“Oh, I am.” Peter shrugged.
“Huh?”
“I play the clarinet . See. Clarinet.” Peter said and lifted up his little black clarinet case.
“Huh?” You said louder.
“I used to play in high school, pre-bite but post 9/11. I saw a flyer for orchestra on campus so I joined.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” You practically shouted. Peter knew you weren’t happy but felt strangely honored that you were so upset over him not telling you something about her personal life.
“Because I know how you feel about band nerds.” He replied. “And you and I don’t really talk about non-work related things. I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Are you kidding me? Of course I care.” You insisted. “My rumored boyfriend has been in wind ensemble this whole time and I didn’t even know?”
“Wait, rumored boyfriend? Who, me?” Peter asked in surprised.
“So you didn’t know about this either?”
“No. I mean, someone did refer to you as my girlfriend the other day but I thought it was just an accident. People think you and me are dating?” Peter asked and tried not to look as pleased as he felt.
“Apparently. I’ve had multiple people refer to you as my boyfriend today. And look. We’re on the campus couples Instagram page.” You said and held up your phone.
“Ew. We have one of those?” Peter grimaced and took your phone to see the picture better.
“Yeah. I honestly think the principle runs it.” You replied. Peter was quiet as he stared at the picture for a while.
“What?” You wondered.
“Nothing. This just a cute picture of us. And I think the only picture of us.” He said with a shy smile. You frowned and looked at the picture again before realizing he was right.
“Carly said people think we’re dating since we’re always sneaking off together.” You told him. Peter thought out this for a minute and then made another connection.
“Ohhhh.” He said and nodded his head.
“What?”
“This explains why the boys congratulated me on the bus back to New York after the Washington monument trip for losing my virginity at a historic landmark.”
“You lost your virginity on that trip? To who?” You whispered harshly and felt jealousy burning through your veins.
��You, apparently.” He laughed. “You and I disappeared to get the glowy alien egg bomb thing back and I guess everyone assumed we were off desecrating a national monument.”
“Oh my God. That was like 3 years ago.” You realized. “People have thought we were dating this whole time? We need to put a stop to this.”
“Yeah. You’re right. Or…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.
“Or?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Or, we lean into it.” He suggested. “We let people think it. We encourage it, even.”
“Why would we do that?”
“People have been suspicious about where we go and what we’re doing since high school. We can only fake so many illnesses and I ran out of grandparents to lie about the death of by junior year. So if people already made up a reason, maybe we should let them think that. We don’t have to go out of our way to confirm it but we can keep the assumption going to keep them from finding out what we’re really doing.”
“So you think we should let people think we’re dating so they stop wondering about what we’re always off doing?”
“That’s exactly what I just said, yes.” Peter nodded.
“Hey. Be nicer to your fake girlfriend.” You said and smacked his arm.
“I’m sorry. I will.” Peter blushed and rubbed his arm. You felt bad for hitting him and wrapped both arms around him to rub them up and down. He smiled softly at you and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
“You play the clarinet?” You asked after a minute.
“Squidward made it look so cool.” Peter shrugged.
“Did he?” You asked, making Peter laugh.
“No.” He admitted.
The next day, you and Peter walked to school together with the understanding that from then on out, you were going to play the part of a happy couple. You weren’t going to go around announcing it to everyone or anything. You just needed to convince the few that didn’t already believe the rumor and confirm things for the ones who did believe it.
“You ready for this?” You asked Peter as you stepped into campus.
“I think so. Maybe we should hold hands or something. You know, since people think we’re dating.” Peter suggested and tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter to him.
“I guess so.” You shrugged and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took your hand and took note of the way it fit in his like it was made for him.
“This is weird.” You whispered to him, popping his bubble.
“Why? Are my hands sweaty?” He panicked.
“No. Just really, really hot.” You told him. “It’s just weird that nobody seems to care that we’re holding hands right now.”
“I mean, we are just two random people with almost no social presence.”
“That’s true. I guess I just thought people would care more.” You admitted as you looked around the campus. No one was phased by you and Peter, but he was too busy enjoying the moment to realize it.
“Are you disappointed?” He asked you.
“Yeah. I wore my best bra because I thought I’d be getting more attention today.” You frowned and adjusted the strap of your bra.
“It’s okay. I’ll take one for the team and stare at your boobs.” Peter assured you.
“Aw. Thank you.” You gushed and gave his hand a squeeze.
You got to your physics class and sat together at your usual lab table. Peter looked around the classroom while you carried on as usual.
“Maybe I should put my arm around you. You know, to really convince people.” Peter suggested with a shy blush on his face.
“Is that really something people do?” You genuinely wondered. “I feel like I never see couples with their arms around each other.”
“Actually, I don’t think I have either. But let’s try it anyway.” He said and wrapped an arm around you. You scooted closer to him so that you could comfortably lean into him. You quickly realized you didn’t hate it and let out a content sigh.
“Hm.” Peter made a little noise at the back of his throat.
“What?” You asked him.
“Our height difference makes this hurt my shoulder.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear.
“Then move your arm.” You whispered back.
“I can’t. I just wrapped it around you. It’ll look weird if I immediately take it off.” Peter said as he covered behind him to see who was looking.
“Or, consider this. Nobody in this entire city, and dare I say world, cares where your arm is right now.” You whispered harshly.
“Fine. I’ll remove it. But I have to give a reason.” He told you before loudly clearing his throat.
“Ah. Sorry, babe. I can’t cuddle you right now. My arm is sore from band practice.” Peter said loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear him. You hung your head in shame and heard people murmuring about his strange comment.
“Oh God.” Peter gulped. “People are looking. They’re gonna know something is up. I have to put it back.”
He went to put his arm back around you but you stopped him before he could draw any more attention to the two of you.
“Just do this.” You whispered to him and pulled his stool closer to you and turned towards him a little. Your knees and were touching and you were now facing each other.
“That’s it? No one can even see this.” Peter said in disappointment. He thought being your fake boyfriend would bring you guys closer but you were sitting the way you always sat in class.
“It’s not about what people can see. It’s about proximity.” You explained. “We’re sitting closer together than anyone else is without being egregious about it. It’s a simple touch. If we’ve been together as long as people think we have, we don’t need to be wrapped around each other all the time. A simple touch to let the other know we’re there is all we need.”
Peter was silent as he stared at you following your explanation. He stared for so long that you felt yourself blush under the eye contact.
“What?” You asked him.
“I like the way you explain things.” Peter said simply. You quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see the effect that comment had on you and took a moment to collect yourself.
“It’s just something I thought of.” You shrugged.
“I know. But I never would have thought of that. Especially not as naturally as it did for you. You’re so quick.”
“Thank you.” You laughed shyly and found yourself unable to look away from him. Peter opened his mouth to say something to keep the momentum rolling but his phone interrupted him.
“Shoot. Sus-tivity on the b bridge.” He whispered.
“What the hell does that mean?” You asked at full volume.
“It means there’s suspicious activity on the Brooklyn bridge.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to act fast so I didn’t have time to say the whole thing.”
“But you just said the whole thing. And the abridged version. So it took twice as long.”
“Shh.” He waved his hand. “We gotta go.”
You reluctantly collected your things and took Peter’s hand to pull him out of his seat. Peter followed you out the classroom but the teacher cleared her throat when you walked by.
“And where are you two going?” She asked. You and Peter exchanged looks as the class snickered and murmured their theories about what exactly you were heading off to do.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Pepper. My girlfriend and I have to leave class unexpectedly. Please excuse us. It’s urgent.” Peter’s said politely.
“I bet it’s urgent, Parker.” A boy snickered, making serval classmates laugh.
“Gross.” You wrinkled your noses and looked at the boys in disdain.
“Fine.” The teacher sighed. “The only reason I don’t write you two up for skipping so often is because you somehow have the best grades in the class. Go on. Just get the homework done.”
“We will.” You assured her before leaving the room with Peter. Peter noticed that you didn’t drop his hand even when you were alone in the hallway.
“Hey, you know that teachers name is Dr. Zhang and not Dr. Pepper, right?” You asked him.
“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. “Is it really? I’ve emailed her so many times and said “Dear Dr. Pepper”. We have to drop out.”
You laughed and held his hand the rest of the way out of the building.
That night, Peter laid in his bed with his phone held close to his face. He had been trying to figure out what to text you to let you know he had been thinking of you.
“I had fun fighting crime with you today” He wrote out. He read it over before scrunching his nose.
“No. Too cringe. She is not gonna fall in love with someone that says “fighting crime”. I’m not Paw Patrol.” He said like it was obvious. He deleted his text and thought of another one.
“I had a good time today, we make a good team” He wrote out instead. He read it a few times until he found issue with it.
“Oh, you had a good time stopping those break dancers that were obstructing that Sbarro? That’ll catch her attention.” Peter said sarcastically and deleted the text.
“have a goodnight :)” He typed out and then shook his head.
“No. Wayyyy too horny.” He sighed and deleted it again.
“night” He wrote out and read it a few times.
“This is good. I can work with this.” He nodded. He was about to workshop it when a text from you popped up.
“pick a color” It said. Peters heart skipped a beat at the vague message and replied with the first color that popped into his head.
“blue”
“thank u” You wrote back within seconds. Peters heart stopped pounded and the disappointment that the conversation was over settled in. After all these years of fighting crime together, you two never really managed to make it past the coworkers stage. He was desperate for more but never knew how to get there.
“no homo but I had fun fighting crime with you today” You suddenly texted again. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he touched his as if it were your face.
“ok paw patrol” He wrote back. Back in your room, you were laughing at his text and trying to think of a witty reply.
“ur mad bc you know I’m the chase 🐶” You texted him.
“if ur the Chase then who am I?”
“plssss ur such a marshall” You wrote back.
“but that’s the third most important dog :(“ Peter replied.
“well yes but he’s cute and wears red so the little paw patrol shoe fits” You answered. A blush painted Peters cheeks over you calling him cute but he didn’t want to read too much into it.
“Im wearing red right now😳” He texted back.
“oh I bet you are” You answered, making him laugh. He kept the conversation going for about an hour before duty called once again. Peter groaned and put his suit on before swinging to the scene of the crime. He met you there and stopped the crime before stopping on a nearby rooftop to rest.
“These burglars aren’t very considerate of our sleep schedules. Who robs a Jersey Mikes after midnight? Or, like, ever?” Peter huffed as he tugged his mask off.
“I know. They’re always at inconvenient times. I was in the middle of painting my nails.”
“Can I see?” He asked in a soft voice. You pulled your gloves off and held out your hand for him to see.
“Look. Blue. But I only got half way through before Mike’s was targeted.”
“It’s okay. They still look pretty.” Peter complimented you with a soft smile.
“Thanks. You picked a good color.” You replied.
“What do you mean?” He frowned.
“I told you to pick a color. This is why.” You explained and held out your hand again. His eyes lit up at this new information and he took your hand to see your nails closer.
“You let me chose your nail color?” He smiled fondly.
“Well I didn’t know what to chose so I thought I’d ask the audience.” You shrugged and felt shy all of the sudden.
“Oh. And I’m the target audience, huh?” Peter smirked and turned towards you.
“I never said target.” You teased him and shoved him shoulder.
“I must be hearing things, then.” He shrugged as you both smiled.
“Yeah. Must be.” You said in a soft voice as you stared into his eyes. Peter gulped before making a bold move and taking your hand again under the guise of looking at your nails.
“Look at you. You even got my favorite shade.” He noted.
“You like “Eating For Blue”?” You pretended to gasp.
“Is that really the name of the color?” He laughed.
“Uh huh. It was apart of Essie’s baby fever collection. I almost chose “All In Blue Time” but that’s one tends to get little air bubbles and they give me agida. And I used to have “A Dream Come Blue” but it rolled under the sink so it belongs to the dust bunnies now.” You shrugged as you checked out your nails.
“Wow. This is all new information to me. So, are all nail polish colors named after puns and wordplay?” He asked as he stared into your eyes. He didn’t really care, but he was finally getting somewhere with you and didn’t want it to end.
“In my experience, yes. Not always color related wordplay but always something that makes you go yeah, I guess this shade of beige is what the word “ladylike” would be as a color.”
“This is blowing my mind right now.” Peter chuckled.
“You mean blue-ing your mind.” You corrected and tapped the side of your head.
“I think you inhaled too many of those fumes. Because that was not funny.” Peter said through a laugh.
“What?” You pretended to be offended. “You’re literally laughing right now. I’m so funny.”
“You are.” Peter admitted when his laughter died down. You stared into eyes for a minute before smiling.
“Is that what you rumored saw in me?” You asked him.
“Probably.” He chuckled. “I also heard a rumor that I think you’re really pretty. Like, the prettiest girl I was ever rumored to have allegedly seen.”
“Now you’re the one who’s looney from the fumes because that’s a straight up lie. I know you’ve seen prettier girls because I was standing right next to you when Anne Hathaway left that diner.” You said without making eye contact with him. Things were moving a little too fast and you needed it hit the brakes for a second.
“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” Peter forced a laugh and awkwardly looked over at the cityscape when he realized you were politely telling him to pull back.
“But I appreciate it.” You said after a beat of silence.
“Of course. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking saying that.” He laughed nervously. “I was just getting caught up in the fake dating. We’ve been doing it for so long that it felt real.”
“We only started this morning.” You reminded him.
“Right. Well, it’s late. I’m gonna go home.” He said quickly and stood up. He had just blown that and needed to leave as quickly as possible.
“Okay. Goodnight. See you at school.” You called after him. Peter swung home with tears in his eyes and went straight to bed, missing your text about having fun fighting another crime.
The next day at school, Peter decided to start over and push last night from his mind. He played the part of your boyfriend to the best of his abilities and opened every door, pulled out every seat, and carried ever book for you all day long. Then he did it the next day, and the day after that. He kept his mouth shut about his feelings day in and day out no matter how painful it was getting. You and Peter had finally moved past the coworker stage and become real friends so he didn’t want to sabotage it all by telling you that he spent his days wishing for more.
“What are your plans tonight?” You asked him one day as you walked out of class together.
“My aunt is going out with her friends so I was probably gonna watch a movie on my couch. But on my laptop with my earbuds in. Likely in my boxers. Likely with an entire package of Twizzlers. Why?”
“Well I was gonna suggest that we hang out but you sound booked.”
“Really? You want to hang out?” Peter asked with much more enthusiasm than he intended.
“If you want. I’m not doing anything as exciting as boxers and Twizzlers.”
“I would love to. I’ll put on pants for you. I promise.”
“Sounds good.” You laughed. “Text me your address, okay?”
“Sure. Or you could walk with me now. Unless you’re tired of me and need a break before we hang out.” Peter suggested as you left campus together.
“It’s funny you say that. I was just telling my mom the other day that I never get tired of you.” You said casually.
“You..you don’t?” Peter’s face heated up as he followed you down the sidewalk.
“I don’t. I usually need a break from other people if we’ve been together awhile but it’s different with you. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my social battery if that makes sense.“
“It makes sense.” He smiled shyly as your hands bumped against each others. He was about to make a bold move and take your hand despite no one being around but you suddenly moved it to hit the crosswalk button.
Back at Peter’s apartment, he awkwardly gave you a tour and wished he had picked up his clothes before leaving the house that morning. You didn’t seem to mind the socks and boxers strewn across his room because you were too focused on all the little things he kept on his shelves. You picked up a picture frame of your freshman year high school class that had you and Peter seated right next to each other. Your friendship had only just begun so you often forgot how long you knew him for.
“So this is your room.” You smiled and put the picture back.
“Yup. This is where the magic happens.” Peter said and immediately cringed at himself.
“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. This is where I practice magic. Wanna see?” He asked and picked up a deck of cards. You laughed and went over to take one.
“Is your card the ace of spades?” He asked.
“Queen of hearts.” You snorted and turned the card around.
“You’re the queen of my heart.” He whispered.
“Did you say something?” You asked as you looked at all his Legos.
“I asked what you wanted to do tonight.” He lied.
“I don’t know. We have the place to ourselves. We could do something rated R.” You said with a coy smile.
“Like what?” Peter gulped.
“Watch an R rated movie, you perv. Your aunt isn’t here to stop you.”
“You remember me telling you that I’m not allowed to watch R rated movies in the living room anymore?” Peter blushed at you remembering something he had randomly told you long ago.
“Are you referring to the time you watched Tusk at full volume while she had her friends from work over for the first time? How could I forget?”
“In my defense, I didn’t know what the movie was about. And I didn’t think her friends were gonna come into the living room and see that guy getting turned into a walrus.”
“Yeah, the title and cover art gave no indication that the movie would end that way. But that’s not a bad idea actually. Let’s watch something scary.”
“Okay.” Peter agreed and followed you out into the living room. He turned off the lights and got some snacks while you picked a movie. He hated scary movies but he was not about to tell you that. Instead, he sat on the couch beside you as a respectful distance and handed you a bag of chips. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other. Peter had never really seen you scared before but you were practically in his lap just 40 minutes into the movie. You reached into the bag of chips at the same time as Peter and your fingers touched. You both froze and looked at each other as your faces heated up.
“Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.” Peter sighed, making you yank your hand out and laugh.
“You’re stupid.” You laughed and turned back to the movie just as a jump-scare happened. You screamed and jumped closer to Peter.
“This is so scary. Why did I pick this movie?” You asked as you drew your knees up and leaned into his side.
“Yeah, same.” He replied, not even listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. You were cuddled into his side with your head on his shoulder and knees in his lap with a blanket drawn up to your nose. He knew you were only cuddling him because you were scared but it didn’t even matter at that point. The movie went quiet for a minute and then made a loud sound, sending you to burry your face into Peter’s neck.
“Tell me when it’s safe to come out.” You whispered into his ear. Peter gulped and wrapped an arm around you to fully protect you from the movie.
“I will.” He said in a soft voice. You peaked your head out a few minutes later but stayed nestled into Peter’s side. You realized his arm was around you and smiled a little.
“Oh, this isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the main character got eaten alive.
“I don’t understand you.” Peter chuckled and looked down at you. You laughed as well as you looked into his eyes. He was about to say something when another sharp sound from the movie caused you to jump.
“Hold my hand.” You blurted and grabbed his hand. Peter happily accepted and clasped your hand before holding it under his chin. You stayed in that position for a long time and watched the movie. You were both so focused on the screen that you didn’t hear May opening the front door and coming in.
“Hey. I’m home.” She said, making you both scream.
“Oh, hi May.” Peter greeted while he realized it was just her.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m-“
“I know.” She smirked. “I’ll just be in my room. But, Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“No going in your room with the door closed, okay? I’m home. And we have thin walls. Just keep that in mind.” She said, making Peter turn bright red.
“Got it, May.” He mumbled. She winked at you and disappeared into her bedroom.
“You told your aunt we were dating?” You whispered to Peter in confusion.
“No.” Peter answered honestly. “I guess she just assumed we were.”
“Wow. She’s just like the kids at school.” You shook your head. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think we’re dating?”
“I mean…” Peter trailed off and looked down at your clasped hands. You hadn’t realized you were still cuddling and quickly jumped off of him. Peters heart sank and the longer he sat in the absence of your body heat, the more upset he felt.
“You just jumped off of me like I was sharp.” He said without looking at you.
“I didn’t want your aunt to see us cuddling and think-“
“And think what?” He snapped, cutting you off. You gutted your head back in surprise and let out a nervous laugh.
“Woah. What’s going on with you? She already knows about your secret life. We don’t have any reason to pretend we’re dating in front of her.”
Peter stared at you for a long time as the word “pretend” cut into him like a knife. Every time he thought you were going somewhere, he was reminded that it didn’t actually mean anything to you.
“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled and looked at the movie again. You kept your eyes on him and felt guilty. You had so much to say to him but you felt unable to speak.
“Peter-“
“I don’t think we should pretend to date anymore.” He blurted, cutting you off once again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise and you got a sick feeling in your tummy that you had just ruined something really important.
“What? Why not?”
“It’s stupid. No one even cares anymore.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to fake a breakup or anything but I don’t want to hold hands or play along anymore. I’m done.”
“What changed?” You asked in a soft voice. He was still looking at the movie while you were fully turned to face him.
“Nothing changed. That’s the problem.” He said and angrily got off the couch. You quickly caught his hand and he stopped. He looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you if he hadn’t told you what was wrong. He slowly turned around and looked at you.
“Five years ago, you showed up to the same robbery at an all night CVS that I was at and I realized we knew each other from AP Spanish class because I had asked you earlier that day how to conjugate “poner” and you said “pusiste” and I laughed because I thought you were joking but you weren’t and then that night you heard me tell the burglar that he better“pusiste” the money back into the register.“ Peter began.
“Okay. Wow. That was a really long sentence.” You laughed softly. “But I remember that. I laughed and told you that you better remember that for the test.”
“You did. That’s how I knew it was you.” He smiled at the memory. “I failed that test, by the way. I still can’t conjugate “poner.” And I still think it means “boner” even though I know it’s a verb. But anyway, that night, I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited to have met you. Even though we technically already knew each other, that night put us in each others radars. I could not believe that I had met my match. You’re into science like me and sarcastic like me and you understand this side of my life because you have the same side. But despite running into each other on patrol almost nightly and seeing each other around school, I barely got you to notice me. I don’t think you even knew my name until we ended up going the same college. You called me “Timmy” all throughout high school.”
“You seriously look like one. It’s uncanny. I don’t know what it is.”
“I thought things would change when I found out we were going to the same college. The campus is so small I figured there’s no way we wouldn’t become friends. But even then, we hardly ever talked and when we did it was always about work. I didn’t even know where you lived until last semester.”
“I remember that too. The first night we really bonded was when you fell off that roof because you were trying to show me how to do a backflip.”
“Yeah, I’ve never been able to do a backflip.” He admitted. “I only said I could because you said you always wanted to learn how to do one and I assumed given my abilities I’d be able to do one if I just followed my body. But I busted my ass and you were kind enough to sneak me through your window and patch me up with some Scooby Doo bandaids.”
“It was all I had.” You shrugged.
“And you gave it to me anyway. Because you’re kind and compassionate and I’m just…I’m crazy about you.” Peter finally admitted. “I was so excited when we started hanging out more this semester but it always ended up crushing me when I remembered that we just doing it to keep people from finding out the truth. I really, really love our friendship and if I’m ruining it all by saying all this then at least I can die with it off my chest.”
“Wait, now I’m confused. Are you dying?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It feels like I am every time you and I start to get close and then I remember this is all pretend for you.”
“So it’s not pretend for you?” You asked quietly. Peter stared into your heads for a minute and then shook his head.
“No. I was never pretending. I like you.” He told you. Your facial expression didn’t change as you stared back at him. Peter was really starting to panic until a smile tugged at your lips.
“Sit back down.” You told him.
“I’m sat.” He said and rushed it sit down. You nestled back into his side and laid your head down on his shoulder. Peter smiled and rested his head on top of yours, finally pleased with the way a conversation with you went. You both turned your attention back to the movie just in time for it to end.
“Hm.” You huffed. “That was supposed to be us symbolically finishing the movie as a real couple but it appears we’ve already arrived at the credits. Now what?”
“We could watch Tusk.” Peter suggested at the same time you said “We could make out.”
“I never actually saw Tusk but I always wanted to.” You gasped and hit his arm with excitement.
“Or we could do your thing.” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.
“Let me see if I can find it.” You said as you scrolled through the streaming services on his TV.
“Or we could do your thing.”
Tag List 🏷️
@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave
@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant
@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom
@pandaxnienke
@itsemohours
@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85
@olixerwxxd @leilanixx
@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940
@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing
@mathletemadison
@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr
@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu
@ciarahollands
@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy
#peter parker x reader#peter parker fake dating#peter parker angst#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker imagine#peter parker fluff#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland fluff#tom holland fanfiction#peter parker x you#tom holland x y/n#peter parker x y/n
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The forgotten child
Pairing's : fem! reader x peter parker, tony stark daughter! x tony stark, tony stark daughter! x peter parker
Warnings: really sad angst, jealousy, daddy issues, neglect, lmk if i missed anything! :)
Summary: dad of the year award? surely isn't going too him
a/n : I know the gif doesn't really match the theme of this story I just really liked it. I did not reread this so please ignore any grammar mistakes. Also, I'm not sure if i wrote a panic attack correctly but I wrote based on what their like for me. hope you all enjoy!
you really tried not to become the forgotten child, always tried you're very hardest to live up to your father expectations, trying to make him proud in hope's he'd show some form of attention.
always studying to get straight a's even through countless anxiety attacks from fear of failing and disappointing your father.
all you ever wanted was reassurance, and if you ever got lucky enough a "You did a good job" after getting a high score on a test.
but it never came, it would forever be something you longed to hear. he would usually just mumble a small, quiet "congrats" as his mind stayed focused on his work and his eyes stuck to the blueprint laid out on the table Infront of him.
you always tried you're best not to feel jealous whenever your father held morgan, you had no ressentiment towards morgan whatsoever, in fact she was the one that kept you smiling most days. although you couldn't help but feel your heart tighten from jealousy as you watched them have daddy daughter time
you really did try you're best to be happy for your younger sister, but you couldn't ignore that aching feeling. all you wanted was the attention she had that your heart ached so desperately for, but it never came despite your countless attempts.
you we're astound to hear a new avenger had been recruited, you always enjoyed meeting new people. mainly because they gave you attention they didn't even know you craved.
you always seeked to see the best in people, no matter what the circumstances we're. including peter parker, there was nothing wrong with him, he wasn't a bad person in fact quite a good one, and if you weren't so envious of him you possibly could have been friends with the boy. but you watched how peter and your father clicked so easily becoming like father and son.
it made the knots in your stomach tighten as you watched them spend time together, it made you feel as if something was wrong with you, like maybe if you tried harder or changed, he'd give you the attention you deserved.
your mother, pepper always said he loved you just as much as he loved morgan or even peter, but you knew the truth as much as you ignored it you knew. but oh, how you wish he did.
"Mom, I'm home" you called out knowing if father was home, he wouldn't answer you. after not receiving an answer, you decided to look through the house in search of your mother, after a couple of minutes searching you still hadn't found her and decided she probably went out and took morgan with her. you heard talking but it sounded like your father, and peter?? "what's peter doing here?" you wondered. you decided to peak you're head through the door and saw peter and tony standing with their backs faced away from you, working on some upgrades for peter's suit.
"you're a pretty great kid peter" tony told him as he smiled at him patting his shoulder. a wave of jealously hit your chest as you watched them, your throat tightening. "Thank you, Mr. stark," peter smiled cheekily as your fingers clenched into a fist at your side.
"Becoming like my son."
once those words left Tony's lips, your mouth went dry, your head aching as you backed away from the door as quietly as possible, you're breathing picking up rapidly. you quickly made your way to your room, tears forming in your eyes, you walked into your room and shut the door softly as your hands started shaking as you paced around your room quickly, trying to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you never liked crying, it made you feel weak.
you're breathing came out in heavy gasp as you struggled to breathe. you leaned against the wall coughing as you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop the words from replaying in your mind.
"Becoming like my son" continuously echoed through your head as soft sobs left your lips, you didn't want to feel this way, envious of what your father and peter had. it's not peter's fault about what your father feels about you so why hold him accountable. he'll never love you, at least not like he loves peter. you can't figure out why? you always tried you're best to impress him, but nothing seemed to be enough for him, it's like he didn't even care about your existence.
you stumbled over to your bed, taking deep breathes as your body grew exhausted from crying. you plopped down on your bed tiredly as you snuggled up against your blanket that was where your pillows we're supposed to be, you grabbed a pillow and hugged it too sleep.
you didn't want to put the blame on peter because it wasn't his fault, but a little piece of your heart blamed peter parker.
a/n: CLIFFHANGER!?!? I decided to leave it for now because I haven't come up with an ending that I thought fit the way I wanted so if you guys have ideas, please let me know. reblog's are highly appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
#peter parker#spiderman#peter parker x reader#tony stark daughter#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#spiderman x stark!reader#peter parker fic#peter parker angst#spiderman x reader#spiderman imagine#peter parker smut#spiderman angst#peter parker x stark!reader#peter parker fluff#peter parker blurb#peter parker one shot#tom holland peter parker#spiderman fanfiction#spiderman x you#spiderman smut
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
angel unaware
ꨄ︎ pairing: peter parker x silk!reader
ꨄ︎ synopsis: you’ve known peter since you were fifteen, shortly after you were both bitten by the same spider. it was too obvious that you’d end up loving him. as you drift apart during your first year of college, you’re not sure how much longer you can keep dancing in circles with him.
ꨄ︎ genres: best friends to lovers, angst, idiots in love, slowburn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort
ꨄ︎ tags: rated explicit/18+ (smut), alcohol usage, mention of drug usage, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), characters are 19, mild violence, gun violence (there is a school shooting in the beginning but there aren't too many details)
ꨄ︎ wc: 13.8k
ꨄ︎ notes: omg. happy valentine’s day y’all. i’ve been working on this Big Bertha for literal MONTHS and i’m so happy to finish it and share it with you. thank you for being around even though i haven’t been the most active; this is a gift to you <3
ꨄ︎ listen to the playlist!
The spider bit you first.
It isn’t until you’re fifteen that someone else finds out about it.
In many ways, you should’ve known. The symptoms, the hypervigilance, the strange, gradual transition of filling out your body. You blame puberty first, but this feels more than abnormal. It's almost as if it's bursting through your skin. The only other person who seems to mirror your coming of age is Peter Parker, whose twitchy nature exacerbates the longer high school goes on.
You keep your head low because there’s no reason for you to tell anyone about your powers. Not even the boy about whom you’re positive shares the same curse as you.
But then the videos come out. Red and blue lycra flying through buildings, a blurred figure saving cats from trees, webs shooting and swaying as onlookers stare like it’s a circus act. He calls himself Spider-man and you think it’s awfully corny.
You’d be a fool to think that you were safe from the antics of Avengers propaganda, rubble, and ash blocking your way to school on more days than not. You’d be a fool to think that you could evade the classic tropes of American violence that force the president to lament about "unthinkable tragedies" multiple times a year. At this moment, you’re a fool for getting yourself locked in a janitor’s closet while there’s an active shooter at Midtown High.
Your breath hitches when the doorknob jangles in front of you. On instinct, you stick yourself to the ceiling, far in the corner with your senses on fire. You’ve never actually had to attack anyone before. You aren’t entirely sure how this would play out with a gun involved.
Peter Parker’s labored breaths fill your eardrums, and without thinking, you shoot your webs directly at him. He stumbles, clumsily tripping over an empty mop bucket. He looks up at you in confusion. He’s wearing half of his suit.
"You. You just–"
"Shut the fuck up," you hiss, covering his mouth with your palm. In the darkness, your eyes widen. Someone is near.
It’s a stupid ordeal. The crime happening, this meet-cute, the way your senses feel haywire being this close to him. Both of you are holding your breath, your heart is pounding erratically in your chest, and blood is rushing through your ears.
The day ends with you and Peter making it out of the closet through a vent and the shooter getting subdued by the police. A troubled sophomore who barely knew how to use the gun in the first place made it easy for Spider-man to intercept the weapon the moment the kid raised his arms.
Peter follows you home that afternoon like a stray cat, babbling over a game of twenty questions that you aren’t in the mood to entertain. Somehow, his presence leaves your chest feeling warm and light, and you realize that you don’t mind the company. Twenty questions become routine.
He’s the only one who gets it, of course.
He tells you about the Avengers, ignoring the way you scoff under your breath. Secretly, you’re only a little jealous. Not because you want that kind of prestige or even a fancy suit, but because at least there’s a group of freaks out there who know. "How come you didn’t tell me?" Peter asks you. He looks small on your couch despite his sixteen-year-old sleeper build and the fact that he’s taking up more than half of your space.
"What do you mean?"
"If you knew about Spider-Man this whole time… why didn’t you say something?"
"What, like I was supposed to seek you out on the street with a mask on?"
He gives you a pointed look. "You had a feeling about me. In school. Didn’t you?"
You don’t answer, which, to Peter, is an answer in itself.
"I didn’t want to be any trouble. It’s my burden to deal with," you say slowly, blinking up at him.
Burden. Peter smooths the word over in his mind and watches the way your nimble fingers pick at the threads of your sweater. He suddenly feels guilty for pestering you with questions, especially after the trauma of today.
"It’s not a burden," he says carefully. You don’t protest, but he knows there’s a certain level of repression inside you that won't let you give this part of yourself up. As if his knowing about your powers would only be that — knowing. He keeps staring at your fingers.
"You don’t have web shooters?" He gestures to your hands.
"Comes from my fingertips."
"No fucking way. You gotta show me."
"You saw it today," you chuckle as you take a breath.
"Not really," he pouts. The amber-brown of his eyes is annoyingly irresistible, and you know it because of how hot the back of your neck suddenly feels. There’s a hint of a taunting smile on his face, as if he knows.
You take him to the fire escape outside your bedroom window. It’s barely past five and it’s already gotten dark. Luckily, your bedroom faces an empty alley.
"I’m not some circus act, just so you know," you warn him.
"Please," he tuts. "If anything, we both are. Two arachno-freaks."
"You should rebrand as that," you say with a grin.
You shoot a web to the fire escape railing above you, holding yourself up and swinging like you're in P.E. climbing a rope. You feel ridiculous, to say the least. You quickly shoot more webs after a quick scan of your surroundings to swaddle yourself in something resembling a cocoon. It hangs like a playground swing from the metal above.
"Holy shit! Does it ever… run out? Do you get web blocks? Does it come out of anywhere else–"
"I’m not answering that." Your cheeks heat up at the insinuation.
"Sorry, just curious." He holds his palms up in defense, then reaches to touch a fingertip to the silk holding you together. It feels soft like cotton candy and is much less sticky than what came out of his web shooters.
He asks you to swing with him, and for some reason, you say yes. You don’t like to swing very much, and if you do, you try to look for construction sites or abandoned scaffolding to evade attention. Tonight, however, the New York City lights look warm against the velvety backdrop of the sky, and you decide that flying through the air with someone else feels better than doing it alone.
____
He doesn’t understand your desire to stay under the radar. Whenever he brings it up, you take the opportunity to bring up the New York City disasters that have gone underway before the two of you even graduate. If anything, you’ve been a decent backup, but you refuse to be in the public eye. You don’t want to be Spider-girl.
But you don’t mind swinging around the city in your handmade suit, spun and woven together with the silk that flows straight from your fingertips. It’s one thing that Peter’s jealous of, but it helps him when he needs to patch up a wound when he’s on the go with you.
Peter comes through your window with a red gash on his thigh. You can smell him before you see him.
"Ugh, you broke the streak. Five days without a scratch. That’s a record for you, Parker," you sigh, already rummaging through your drawers for the usual first-aid kit.
"I’m fine." He winces as he crouches down carefully on the floor. You’ve gotten good at minding your business and not asking about his wounds, at least not ones that aren’t too deep into the flesh. He knows it would only hurt you if you knew.
"And yet you’re here."
"I wanted to see you. You know I always want to see you."
You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You kneel before him, pouring hydrogen peroxide onto the gash as you dab gently with a hand towel. He hisses and grabs your forearm with more force than he intends to.
"You’ll be fine," you reassure him gently.
"Yeah. I could've done it, you know," he says as he carefully holds your gaze.
"‘S’fun sometimes," you reply without looking at him. Carefully, you wrap gauze around his leg. "When I was little, my neighbor and I used to play House, but it always turned into, like… Hospital. And I’d pretend to be a nurse and take care of her, I’d tuck her into bed, and I’d give her lollipops from my Halloween stash for being a good patient."
Peter chuckles. He wobbles slightly as he stands up with your help.
"Am I a good patient?"
"Mm. A very brave boy," you say as you pat his cheek.
"What, I don’t get a treat?"
"Your treat is staying alive." You take him by the wrist towards your living room couch.
He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. It’s not right for him to think of you as an extension of himself, but he often yearns for your presence like a phantom limb whenever you aren’t on patrol with him. He realizes you're the yin to his yang.
It excites him, the images of you two that end up on the Internet. How good you look together. You, on the other hand, dread any semblance of perception by the world.
"People are catching on, you know. Ned found a subreddit on you the other day," Peter murmurs into your lap.
You snort, rolling your eyes the way you always do. You fiddle with the soft strands of his hair. It’s second nature to you. "Ned needs to reduce his screen time tenfold."
"Rabbit."
You sigh dramatically at the nickname. He’d adopted it after the many jumpscares he’d give you when he’d sneak into your room at night. You’d become so accustomed to him that your spider-sense would dull when it came to Peter. He was your source of comfort.
"What, Pete?"
"Why don’t you patrol with me?"
"You know why." It’s too stressful. Too public. Too many run-ins with death that you can anticipate.
"It’s better when you’re around."
"You’re a big boy, Peter," you murmur. Your hand slides across his scalp again, this time with your fingertips settling in the space behind his ears. You aren’t looking at him; instead, you are watching the documentary on the television at a low volume. He crumples at your touch.
"May says you’re my guardian angel. Every time something really bad has happened, it always worked out because you were there."
"I mean, it probably helps when you have another Spider-person as a backup."
"I think she’s right, though."
You don’t say anything. You’re tempted to reply with something sardonic or self-deprecating. You put too much faith in me. But you can’t – he’s looking at you with something that you can’t fathom. Something earnest and entirely too fragile. You have to look away.
He hums, sighing into a tattered copy of Hamlet. "I can’t deal with any more Shakespeare."
"You’re such a slow reader despite being a goddamn genius."
"Did you just say something nice about me?" Peter raises a brow.
"Oh my God, relax, Big Bang Theory."
He scoffs and swallows down a smart-ass remark. A grin lingers in his mouth as he settles back into the book.
____
You’re apart from Peter for the first time since age sixteen. You don’t tell him – you don’t tell anyone – but you decide on an out-of-state university because you don’t want to feel tethered to him. Your friends consider you and Peter a package deal, and yes, he’s probably the first real best friend you’ve ever had, but the gnawing inside of you telling you that distance is needed doesn’t stop.
You, the black sheep, are the antithesis of your hero of a best friend, despite being bitten by the same spider. You’ve always wondered if your story was supposed to play out like some sort of Shakespearean tragedy because of your bond with Peter, so you decide to take your mind off of it. At least it won’t be as painful as severing it completely.
It feels free to be away from all the chaos. In Rhode Island, you can focus on your art and fold your feelings away in a neat little envelope. You’d rather die than let any of that out, especially when Peter insists on such frequent FaceTime calls.
Sometimes, you fall asleep to the sound of his voice. He tells you about taking a train down to Providence in the middle of September to visit you like some kind of long distance boyfriend. The thought makes something in your stomach bloom and stagger in the same way. He doesn’t keep his promise – chem labs are already kicking his ass halfway to Thanksgiving break, not to mention the crime rate in New York City rockets beyond normal.
Thanksgiving comes, and both of you are the same. Peter is exactly as boyish as you left him three months ago, though his brown hair has grown longer and he wears blue-light readers to help with the mild headaches he gets from staring at screens.
He isn't attached to your hip like you expected. Your week off is filled with missed texts and a marathon of TV shows about broken women—the kind with dark humor and falling in love with priests.
The next time you see him, your roommate is out of town. It's not an unusual occurrence given how little she spends time in the dorm, always elsewhere with her new boyfriend.
Peter takes up so much space in your bed that you almost offer to push the two twin beds together, but the feeling of his warmth is too comforting. Propped against the wall, you’re hip-to-hip with him as you scroll through Netflix on your laptop.
You can feel him staring. It becomes routine, or maybe it’s your senses, but you can always tell when he’s merely observing you, watching you carefully like ripples on a pond. You've never really chastised him about it, but it doesn't help that you know he can tell when you're nervous. He has you memorized.
He likes the way you look when you concentrate. Sometimes, when you’re deep in thought, he likes to take his thumb and smooth out the ridges of your furrowed brows even though you end up swatting him away. When he does this now, you look up at him with wide, doe eyes.
"Still as indecisive as ever."
"I have to be, otherwise you’ll just put on Gilmore Girls," you scoff.
"You’re the one who showed me that!" Peter protests.
"And then it was the only thing you wanted to watch to the point where I genuinely considered locking you out of my Netflix account!"
He doesn’t bother to argue, instead resorting to poking you in the side. You squirm immediately, yelping as he continues. He flashes you a leering grin as you whine in dissent, flinching from the feather-like touch of his fingertips dancing across your skin.
"You’re so annoying," you huff, curling your body toward the wall.
"And you love it."
More than you’d ever know.
You pause, rolling your eyes at him. You contemplate kicking him again just to get a rise out of him, anything other than the short silence between you that feels more present than it should be. Your stomach feels warm at his proximity, but then again, Peter’s built like a human furnace anyway.
When you attempt to playfully shove him, he catches your wrist with quick reflexes until the two of you are tangled together. It’s easy to fight with him when you’re both running off the same biological fuel. When he ends up on top of you, you forget how to breathe.
The two of you stare at each other like this, as if frozen in time. It’s you who looks away first, then back to his big brown eyes, settling a palm to his cheek. You can feel how hard he is. You wonder if he knows.
It’s something you’ve only thought about in your subconscious, in dreams, or in moments when you’re bandaging his wounds. How would it feel to have his skin all over yours? It’s a selfish thought, but it rings in your brain without warning at times like these, times of such closeness. The spider bit the two of you for a reason. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
It’s a curious thing for sure, but there are doors you don’t want to open yet.
"One episode and then I pick a movie," you mumble.
____
You don’t tell him about transferring when you come back for Christmas break. It feels embarrassing, despite knowing that he’d be ecstatic about the news. RISD proved to be too difficult for your one-track mind as you found yourself sleeping in more and more, flaking on the most rigorous of classes due to your mood. You’d successfully gotten into Pratt for the next semester and were fully moved out, thankfully. But when you see Peter in the arms of another, you wish you hadn't left.
You should’ve expected it, maybe. Peter had always had a thing for Michelle Jones but could never quite get past the friend zone. It seems as though your absence has nudged him further.
No, that feels too selfish to say.
But it’s still too difficult to bear in the loneliness of December, knowing that when the New Year’s parties hit, you’re still the black sheep. Even in a shiny little dress.
You don’t see him much over winter break, but he gets you a silver necklace for Christmas with a spider pendant hanging on it. It’s more sentimental than you expect, and it’s the nicest gift you’ve ever received. It certainly beats the Lego set you’d gotten for him.
Now, in your black cocktail dress, you smile dopily at Ned Leeds as the rest of the room counts down at the television, waiting for the ball to drop. It’s bittersweet when you remember last year’s countdown, in which Peter insisted the two of you swung out to Manhattan to watch the ball drop in person. You remember how much you wanted to kiss him then, but you didn’t. Thank God for his hero's anonymity and the impediment of his suit.
"Five, four, three, two, one – Happy New Year!"
Makeshift confetti falls to the ground as you watch him and MJ kiss. There’s enough champagne in your system for your heart to grow warm at the sight of it.
____
January is cold. Desolate. Even if you have your friends around you in New York, the place that feels most like home, you’ve come to realize. But there’s still something missing, something lacking. Like you’re inside a familiar place inside a dream.
You ignore the itch, learning to numb it with champagne. It worked on New Year’s, and now it’s been working for several weeks. You don’t leave your apartment.
Even though Peter Parker is a text or phone call away, you fade into the background of his life, watching him through newsreels and YouTube videos. You’re on his mind more than you’d expect. He doesn’t know why, though he does realize that your absence bothers him in small ways.
Sometimes, when he’s on patrol, he’s frustrated by his loneliness, especially in the dead of winter. You were never one to play the hero – he knew that – but it was still comforting to have someone to patch up his wounds or soften his fall. The webs that flow from your fingertips have always been strong, enough to form hammocks in between the corners of his bedroom or a makeshift suit.
And then there are the dreams. They feel real, vivid, and much too physical for something that his mind could conjure in his unconscious. You had only kissed him once before (in real life, that is), at a stupid basement party in the ninth grade, before the two of you were friends, but shortly after the initial spider bite. Although it’s something that’s only been brought up as a joke these past few years, Peter remembers vividly how hard his heart was pounding when the glass bottle landed on you after what felt like an excruciatingly long spin. He could never forget the feeling. He wonders if you feel the same.
It’s not something he should be thinking about right now. Especially when you’re not his girlfriend. He’d rather die a thousand deaths than have you know what you do to him in his dreams when you’re nothing but a reverie of your own silk-spun webs and soft, bare skin. You treat him like prey. He loves it.
Peter can nearly smell you, that sandalwood-citrus shampoo of yours, and your warm breath over his face. Your little whispers of praise, your tiny whimpers. The image of your eyes struggling to stay open while you’re underneath him is burned into his brain.
"I missed you," you say breathlessly. "Missed you so much."
God, how is this a dream? He can feel you so clearly. Until he doesn't, and he wakes up with a groan, an exhale, and an excess of sweat on his brow. Not to mention a dampness below him.
"Fucking Christ," he curses under his breath.
The ghost of you is on his bedroom ceiling, in the corner of his room. Something nearby smells like you, even though you haven’t been in his room in ages. This makes something in his chest hurt until he decides to get out of bed.
He wants to see you, but he feels guilty knowing what he's just dreamt about. He can’t help that the person that makes him feel the most human is the only other one who shares the venom in his blood.
Sometimes he follows you. It feels almost meditative for him to sit on a rooftop and watch you from the window of your favorite cafe, reading and writing and breathing. The brightness of his phone screen illuminates his face as his eyes scan over your contact. Your face smiles back at him, but there’s a distance considering the lack of texts between the two of you over the past month. He sighs as he zooms in on your location – the two of you had shared each others’ years ago and only found it convenient to keep.
Peter doesn’t know why he’s feeling all this yearning all of a sudden – sometimes he recognizes the feeling in his body and he thinks of you and he thinks of safety. Other times, like now, he knows that it only breeds guilt.
But he misses being quiet with you, misses the mundane intimacies of him poking you and you fixing his hair. All the small expressions you make with your face that only he notices. There’s something empty in the space he usually holds for you in his heart, and he doesn’t know why.
He has to see you. Maybe then, something in his brain will click, or he’ll see you as the old friend you’ve always been, and he can blame the heat in his body on his subconscious.
You’re predictable with your routine, because this afternoon, he finds you in your usual spot by the window at your favorite cafe again. You’re writing in your journal with your noise-canceling headphones on, so Peter’s presence is completely unknown to you. After he gets his coffee, he watches you from afar, just for a little bit.
As if on cue, you already know. The moment you skip a song and a millisecond of silence fills the space in your head, you feel him immediately. You always know when he’s around.
"Peter," you murmur without thinking. Your gaze is soft but carries the surprise of a deer caught in headlights.
"Hey," he smiles. "Mind if I sit here?"
He gestures to the armchair across from you, and you nod.
Peter knows how to coax your warmth from you, because within minutes, he has you talking about school, what’s on your mind, and why it feels better to be holed up in a cafe than sit miserably at home. You do the same for him, though you notice he’s more reserved for some reason – he’s tight-lipped about MJ, and doesn’t delve into the details of his hero work. He prefers to bombard you with questions instead, listening intently to your most recent fixations or the newest movie you saw alone in theaters.
"You replaced me yet, Rabbit?" he teases you.
"Never," you scoff, tipping your coffee cup to hide any embarrassment on your face. You haven’t heard him call you that in so long. "You know me. I’m a lone wolf."
"Pratt seems like your crowd though, no? No one at Midtown High was a match for you. You were way too cool."
"Mmm, true, yet you’re my best friend."
"Hey!"
Your laugh is like a song to him; he can’t help but smile ear to ear when he hears it.
"The only person who talks to me at school is this guy Cam from my ceramics class. He’s actually from Brooklyn so we took the train together to get home and he’s around for break, which is cool."
Peter’s face nearly goes cold at the sound of someone else’s name, though he stays composed.
"Fun. Are you two…" He gestures vaguely.
"We hooked up like, once, but I don’t really know where it’s going." You say it so nonchalantly like it’s an afterthought. You’re not even looking at Peter.
"If he fucks anything up, you know where to find me."
You smile, rolling your eyes in that bashful way you do when you shrug things off, and it’s more apparent to Peter now how much he adores all your little quirks and mannerisms. He realizes that he might have them all memorized.
"We’re actually going to a party tonight if you want to come. A friend of a friend’s birthday party in Manhattan, I think? I think her name was Anna?"
"Oh, my friend Gwen knows her and invited me!"
"Small world." You swallow down the image of Peter at the party with an ESU girl for a second, and it feels rough in your throat. But you’ll manage. You always do. "Is MJ coming?"
Peter shakes his head. "Ah, she’s in Philly visiting family. I’ll probably go with Gwen and her boyfriend Harry, though."
You feel shame in your relief. It’s sickening how much you have to bury your desire and your tenderness because you know better. You know that even though the two of you were bitten by the same spider, it doesn’t mean you’re necessarily compatible. Sometimes you think your attraction to Peter is some biological fluke determined by the cells in both of your bodies. And then you think, God, how can anyone look into his brown eyes and not feel a thing?
You're both warm in your chests as you part ways, waiting for your next meeting.
____
The night of the party, Peter revels in the sight of you wearing your spider necklace, which sparkles under the flashing lights of the penthouse apartment you’re both in. His mood dampens when he notices the tall boy attached to your hip like a guard dog.
It’s a stupid game and he knows it. The way he pretends not to see you or acknowledge your presence is cruel, but it feels safe for now. He doesn’t feel ready. He’s high off some gummy that Harry had given him an hour earlier, and it’s still fogging his senses, and even though he can be cloudy and nonchalant at this party, his paranoia precedes him. It feels like you’re everywhere.
He shouldn’t feel this way. Why does he feel this way? You’re his best friend and you have your own life that’s separate from his – he knew this would happen the moment he found out you were going to different colleges. Despite that, there’s a piece of you tethered to him that he can’t bear to cut off. It makes him feel sane, the parts of you that you’ve given him.
But now, he sees you laughing and swaying your hips with someone else’s hands resting on your waist and it makes his face burn.
"Dude," Gwen snaps her fingers in front of his face. Peter blinks back at her. "Are you good?"
"Yeah, sorry."
"Harry wanted to do a shot, you want to join?"
Peter nods numbly, following the blonde to the kitchen. He watches everyone else in the kitchen pour shots and drinks like they are rehearsed marionettes. Harry snaps him out of his daze once he slams down a shot glass full of vodka in front of him.
"Drink up, Parker!" Harry cheers.
The alcohol burns Peter’s throat, but he feels the head rush and the warmth. It feels good, makes him feel looser. Malleable. Invincible, maybe, if he took two or three more. But he knows he has to pace himself. He hates that his default setting is to look for you no matter where he is. But when he scans the room this time, you’re downing a glass of champagne alone.
Your body feels heavy at the moment, so you don’t register him plopping down on the couch next to you. You wake up to the sound of his voice as you always do.
"Hey, you."
"Hey."
Your glass of champagne is empty, so you take the beer bottle out of Peter’s hand without saying a word, and he lets you. He watches you gulp a bit of it down. Maybe you’re a little too drunk. Maybe you’re imagining the way his eyes scan your body.
You’re drunk enough to feel social, but truthfully, you’re deathly afraid of being alone with anyone right now. Being alone with someone would make you feel much too raw and vulnerable, so you convince Peter to introduce you to his friends that you’ve never met, and you try to cope with the fact that they look like they were cut straight out of a magazine.
"Peter talks about you all the time," Gwen gushes, sipping from her champagne flute.
"He does?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course," she nods incessantly.
"Only incredible reviews all around," Harry nods, drunkenly slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders. The brunette smiles sheepishly, bashfully. You raise an eyebrow at him along with a coy smile.
"Should hope so," you tease. "He wouldn’t have gotten through high school without me."
It’s mostly a lie considering Peter was the star student and you were barely second to him. Maybe fifth or sixth. In a way, your words are true, because Peter’s agreeing with you.
You zone out as he starts a story from junior year and you have half the mind to chime in when needed. Harry suddenly puts a whisky coke in your hand and you don’t want to refuse out of politeness, but you know the mix of different alcohol will have your head banging in the morning. Peter downs half of his within a millisecond.
"What?" he asks when he notices you making a face.
"Since when do you drink so much?"
"It’s a party," he shrugs.
"Peter, when I brought you to your first party, you refused to drink anything that wasn’t a fruity canned cocktail. You won’t go near wine let alone whiskey."
"A semester at ESU changes you," Harry interjects. "He’s still a little fruity, though."
Peter chastises him as you and Gwen laugh. As the boys bicker, Gwen gets your attention. She asks you mundane questions, like your major, your zodiac sign, and what you thought of the season finale of White Lotus. You’re grateful when she beckons you to follow her to the kitchen to make another whiskey coke.
Her glossed lips twist to the side, eyes bright with a teasing glance. She has the ability to make you feel calm, almost excited to be there.
"He is obsessed with you," she sneers.
"What do you mean?"
"He just talked about you so much when we met him that I had to stalk your Insta, and I was like Jesus Christ, that makes so much sense. If I wasn’t with Harry I’d snatch you up myself. And then when I met his girlfriend and I was confused that it wasn’t you. Unless you’re doing that, like, exes-that-are-still-best-friends thing."
You blush and nearly choke on your drink. "Peter and I never dated."
"Seriously?"
You say nothing, only forcing an amused smile. You don’t know where to put her assumptions, but you sure as hell can’t keep them.
"I’m actually, uh, here with someone," you mutter, pretending to look around. Briefly, you lock eyes with Peter on the couch, who’s pretending to listen to Harry's rambling. Your eyes flit away quickly. "I think I might step outside for a smoke and look for him."
You don’t have to turn around to know that Peter’s eyes are following you. Or maybe you’re just drunk and projecting. Gwen’s bubbly nature makes her seem like the type to gossip, and just because your best friend happened to talk about you doesn’t mean that there was anything under the surface. But then you notice his slightly nervous energy tonight, the silver necklace around your neck, and the last time he visited you months before, when his body was so close to yours.
A pair of hands situate themselves on your waist and it makes you jump. The warmth feels different, as does the sudden smell of sharp cologne, and then you feel your heart drop the slightest bit when you hear his voice.
"Was looking for you," Cam slurs. You can smell the beer breath as he exhales on your neck, making you shiver.
"You sure? Because you’ve been MIA for like forty-five minutes."
You try to keep your voice even, sighing when he plants a kiss on your neck. Any animosity in your tone is completely ignored.
"I was catching up with some people that I wanted to introduce you to," he says, tugging you along by the wrist like a child. You pull up a chair to a firepit surrounded by a group of strangers, and the charade of icebreakers returns. There’s no point in remembering anyone’s name.
You think about returning inside to look for Peter or maybe Gwen and Harry, but being on Cam’s lap is distracting you. At some point, a joint a passed around, and the feeling of the boy’s arms around you makes it easy to melt into nothing.
____
You’re right. You always are. Peter Parker doesn’t drink, and he’s never drunk this much in his entire life. He’s been sitting in the bathtub for… how long? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that his senses were dulled to the point of detachment and he needed to get alone to ground himself.
He’s so out of it that he doesn’t realize someone’s knocking on the door of the bathroom, and his reaction time is too slow before Harry barges in.
"Are you hiding in the bathtub?" Harry squints.
"No, I’m just… hangin’ out," Peter stammers.
Harry snaps out of the facade of a confused daze and shrugs, unbuckling his belt with nonchalance in front of the toilet.
"Dude!"
"What? I’m turned around!"
Sighing, Peter looks around his surroundings. Generic brand shampoo and conditioner. A deformed bar of soap. A red solo cup with clear liquid. He remembers suddenly – he’d filled an empty cup he found with sink water before getting in the tub.
His brain swims with dizziness and mild nausea that mix up his stomach. Gulping down the water, his throat burns immediately, only to realize that it isn’t water at all. It’s fucking vodka and seltzer. Harry’s turned around again, cackling before washing his hands.
"Idiot."
"Fuckingshitjesusfuckingchrist," Peter groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You should just drink straight vodka at this point, man."
"Oh, I do," Harry agrees. He crouches down, squatting to meet Peter at eye level. A warm palm taps Peter’s cheek. "You good, bro?"
"Mmm," Peter nods. His breathing turns shallow as he hunches over, pulling his knees into his chest.
"Jesus, you need to get home, don’t you?"
"‘m fine. You go home."
"Gwen’s been nagging me to for the past ten minutes, so I might. I’d let you crash on the couch, but we’re getting up early to go upstate. How are you getting home, bro?"
Harry frowns when he realizes Peter is barely listening. "Pete!"
He grimaces at Harry’s constant fidgeting. With an annoyed sigh, he shoos the other boy away with flailing arms.
"Heard you," he slurs. "I’ll– I’ll share an Uber with Y/N."
Harry sighs with exasperation, pulling Peter’s arm forcefully to get him out of the tub and down to the living room of the house. Peter is dizzy in his vision, clumsy in his movements, but finds clarity when he glances towards the couch and sees you sitting there with furrowed brows.
"Peter? Are you okay?" you ask.
"Yeah, absolutely not," Harry says. "Gwen and I gotta head home and we’re leaving early tomorrow so he can’t crash. You guys are like, neighbors, right?"
You swallow a lump in your throat, briefly turning your head to glance back at Cam, then back at Peter. He looks at you with a guilty cadence, though his eyes lull with a tiredness that is unusual for him. He’s corpse-like, still hanging onto Harry’s shoulder like a lifeline. It makes the pit of your stomach stir.
It’s unlike him, to be this drunk. The only other time Peter has been this drunk was once in high school, when he was slurring his words all night and determined to clutch you like a teddy bear in his twin-sized bed. You recall his warmth and how his post-puberty figure appeared gargantuan to your body. Foreign, but warm. Comforting. When you think about taking Peter home tonight, you feel like you aren’t allowed to lay next to a body that doesn’t belong to you.
"Yeah, I’ll take him home."
____
"Coulda swung home myself," the boy mumbles. You hit him on the arm and give him a chastising look. Thankfully, your current Uber driver speaks a limited amount of English, not to mention the radio is on blast.
"You couldn’t have. You’re so fucking drunk, you’d kill yourself," you hiss in a low tone.
"Not if you were with me."
"Well, I wouldn’t be. I wasn’t even gonna go home tonight."
"Ah. Of course. Cam,” he exasperates. “Is he your boyfriend?"
You sigh. "No, he’s not."
"Right, you don’t… you don’t do boyfriends," Peter murmurs, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
The car stops in front of Peter’s apartment building.
"Thank you," you say stiffly to the Uber driver as you drag Peter out of the car. The elevator ride is awkward and quiet, as is the fumbling of keys when Peter tries to unlock the door.
He leans on your body as you coerce him into his bedroom, with him thumping onto his bottom bunk.
"Jesus. I feel like if Richie Rich called you an Uber himself you could’ve easily made it up the elevator by yourself. Right, Pete?"
"Mhmm. He’s such. A worry wart. For some rea–" Peter makes a gulping sound that makes your face pale. Immediately, you grab his trash bin and place it between his feet.
"‘m not gonna puke."
"I think you might, Peter."
He pauses and examines you as you kneel in front of him. He’s so drunk, so awfully drunk, but he has enough sense in him to take the caution that the anxious voice in the back of his head commands. But fuck, you look so pretty. He doesn’t know what to do about it.
Peter takes a strand of your hair in his hands and curls it around his finger. His shallow breaths feel louder than they should be. Or maybe they’re yours. He can’t really tell.
"What?"
"Nothing," he shrugs. "I won’t vomit. I promise."
You sigh.
"I should get going–"
"Can you stay for a little?"
Swallowing, you nod. You get into bed with him, because, quite frankly, you’ve had your fair share of alcohol tonight, and laying down in Peter’s warm bed makes you want to melt off the bone.
"I'm sorry for fucking up your night." Peter turns to lie on his side and drapes an arm carefully around you. His hand is feather-bare on your hip.
"You didn’t."
"You were gonna go home with Cam."
"It’s fine, Peter. I wanted to make sure you were safe."
"Like a chore."
"Not like a chore."
"Yeah, okay."
He does that thing again – holds a strand of your hair in his hands. He runs his fingertips nimbly across your scalp as if he’s handling an injured bird. As if he’s afraid you’d bite.
Your eyes are huge, like flying saucers. He used to say that all the time, especially whenever you came to his apartment after experimenting with any new drugs. You only felt safe with him – you had told him that – and he took care of you and your big eyes and your tendencies toward erratic behavior. He always knew how to calm you down. And now, in your adult lives, you were doing it for him.
You let him keep his hands in your hair and he doesn’t know why. There’s a theory he wants to test – one that he dreams about even when he knows he shouldn’t. He thinks about it in vulnerable moments. He considers that maybe this is a vulnerable moment.
His fingertips trace your face between the edge of your eyebrow and the baby hairs on your hairline. He taps along your temple gently, smoothing across the softness of your skin until he sculpts down your cheek and jaw. He blinks once, then twice. And then he rests the pad of his thumb on the corner of your mouth.
Almost automatically, you part your lips. Your mouth is pink, dusted with a purplish-red in the center from the merlot you’d drank hours before, and he wants to lick it off you.
He feels your heart beating, too, and you can hear his. It's a loud bang that resonates in between your eardrums. It’s that shared venom that makes your bodies so acquainted with one another. You briefly consider whether a human body can overheat and burn away simply by being touched by another. You wonder how human the two of you can really be.
You close your eyes.
"What are you doing?" you whisper. Your voice is gossamer-thin, barely there, but you’re so close to him that he hears it so clearly.
"Whatever you want." His voice is dripping honey.
You shake your head, still with your eyes closed. Peter’s hand descends to your jaw, thumb on your bone, with the rest of his fingers warming up your neck. You feel like you might just choke on the feeling of it.
"No, that’s not fair. That’s not… okay."
"What?"
"You’re drunk, Peter. Don’t do that to me. Please."
"What am I doing?"
Your face scrunches up as your eyes open to look at him with a pained expression. You have to close them again. You don’t want to look at him. You want his hands off of you, so you push them away.
"You’re with MJ."
"I… I know."
Your face is crumpled as you inch out of his bed. You’re back to kneeling on the floor in front of him.
"Please don’t leave," Peter whispers.
"I’m tired. I’ll sleep on the top bunk," you mumble. You try not to let him catch you sniffling.
"Goodnight.” You don’t respond.
He falls asleep shortly after and smells your perfume even in his dreams. When he wakes up, he smells you. But you’re nowhere to be found. There’s only the cold air coming from a crack of his window left slightly open.
____
It’s not your fault, but you’ve broken his heart a million times. The night of the party was the most recent one. To be fair, he had also broken your heart. He was just too fucking drunk to remember most of it.
You’ve become a ghost, barely texting Peter back, and when you do, your responses are short and clipped. You don’t have much time to hang out, and he realizes he doesn’t either, not when he has MJ to spend time with along with his Spider-Man duties.
But he would make time for you if you wanted it. He wonders if you know that. He feels too ashamed to tell you that himself.
It’s been like this before, and he’s been able to cope. The way you’re on his brain and won’t leave —stuck on him like a parasite. It’s his fault, he decides, not yours. He knows he’s not being fair. Not to you, not to MJ, not to himself. But he keeps it all in and hopes it doesn’t boil over.
Truthfully, Peter wants to avoid everyone. He understands now why you abhor winter to the degree that you always have. The desolation is too much to bear when there’s not much sunlight in January to activate dopamine receptors, so Peter sleeps in longer than he should. Late enough for Aunt May to get on his case about it.
"Something’s up with you," MJ accuses him on a Thursday evening. It’s one of their ritual movie nights with pizza and wine.
"Huh? Nothing’s up," Peter shrugs.
"No, I know you. Something’s wrong."
"I’m fine, Em." A lie.
It’s a miracle that Michelle Jones sees through Peter’s bullshit because it means that she has the incentive to protect herself from any future bullshit that may break her later on. Peter is too numb to process any of it. There was the refusal of admission, the attempt to keep up the wall of his emotions, which crashed down soon enough by the time MJ was out of the door.
He thinks he should call you, but he doesn’t.
____
Peter is used to scrapes and bruises. He’s seen more than enough charred flesh than a nineteen-year-old should. You had never asked to be his caretaker, but over the course of years, that was what you became. His guardian angel.
He used to make excuses to come over after patrol, trying to coax you out of your nest of a room for just an evening. He'd always known you were far more talented than you gave yourself credit for when it came to spider abilities, but it felt more like a curse than a gift for you to bear.
Some nights, he dreams of you falling stories beneath him. Your face is covered in rubble and ash, and although his nightmares often start with this, he knows that somehow, it’s his fault. It feels visceral, the burning in his calloused hands. Torn lycra to show the dirt underneath his fingernails. Hot tears dripping.
He starts taking that Ambien you gave him years ago.
After that, each day passes like he’s trapped in a nightmarish purgatory. No, that’s an exaggeration. He’s just a victim of a New York winter, and he misses you more than he wants to admit to himself or anyone else.
"I can take care of myself." And with that, the image of you disappears.
"I know," he murmurs softly. He’s always known. It is insignificant in comparison to how badly he wants to take care of you if you let him. Your voice echoes in the cavern of his room. You get farther away by the second until you disappear completely, and he evidently wakes up.
Even in your worst state, he’s obsessed with your honeyed skin. It doesn’t matter the number of bruises or cuts – he caresses them all with his nimble fingertips, and he’s ready to kiss them until they heal. He thinks about this sometimes, how much he cares for you and your body. What he'd do if you just let him in, let him devour you however he pleases, and it disgusts him.
In his dreams where you’re hurt, he’s willing to sacrifice whatever he can so that you can revert to your clean, unbothered state. I’d never let anyone break you. It’s a prayer for him. One that he whispers in your ear whenever he can, at least in these dreams. In reality, he knows that he has to let you go because he knows you. Knows how much you want to be free and alone. How you can take care of yourself. You’re not a damsel in distress – you never have been. But Peter feels like he was made to care for you. It would gut him all the same regardless of whether you loved him or not, and he was willing.
When it’s real, he doesn’t know what to do. He didn’t ever think the two of you would be in this position.
He’s been in enough battles to know how these things end. Mr. Stark had walked him through it all and been by his side while the rest of the Avengers repaired the other broken bits of the universe.
Right now is one of those unique times, the quiet and wretched ones, where Peter is contemplating breath after breath before imagining the full picture. Shambles of the street he’s in. The ache of his bruised body and the blood that he sees from yours, that he shouldn’t have seen, because you said it yourself. You’re not a fucking hero. So why is your blood streaked on the palm of his hands?
The distance between you and Peter doesn’t matter – it never does. The moment you’d felt a dread stirring in your stomach, there was a sharp pain in your head that refused to leave unless the working adrenaline in your body was satiated. It wasn’t the same adrenaline that circulated within you from a night of debauchery – instead, it felt like poison. A compulsory kind of pain, a sharp jolt to your senses. Tonight, you’d felt Peter in danger, and it would’ve killed you if you couldn’t get to him. He'd been the destination you'd been dead set on by the end of the night because of your spider instincts.
The police broadcast was too muffled for you to understand much of it, but you picked out the parts where Spider-Man was mentioned and followed through on them. Although you didn’t fall into the shadow of his hero work, you still kept enough tabs on Peter to know where he would usually be on patrol. It wasn’t like he knew, or that you’d ever told him, but when he was starting out as another guard dog for the Avengers in high school, you needed to at least know his approximate location in the event that something went terribly wrong.
An explosion blasts in the center of a park, where the two of you would meet in the middle between Queens and Stark Tower. This is where you lay your courage down. This is where you find Spider-Man’s mangled body before anyone else does.
"Peter," you huff. "S’gonna be okay. You with me? I’m gonna make sure you’re okay."
He’s just less than conscious, the stretch of his animated eyes limited by his weakness. When he sees your face, however, his face glows – not that you can see it through his mask.
He says your name with a fervor that surprises you. His voice is raspy.
"‘m fine. I have to stay," he grunts, his pain palpable. You know that he’s telling the truth, but you don’t want to leave him alone in his misery.
"Peter. You’re hurt."
"You go home. I’ll come find you later. Just let me–"
"You’re fucking limping."
You had always carried yourself like a feather-like, lithe ghost. Quiet, whereas Peter was bold, despite the fact that his anxious nature had rendered him a boyish thing all these years. This is why he’s surprised that you carry him easily with your supernatural strength. He forgets that you have the same abilities as him. If anything, he’d think you were stronger than him in every way.
Even with his thick skin, he melts into something malleable, comfortable. The solace of your arms makes him feel better already.
A pang of small guilt rots away within him, knowing the circumstances of your last meeting. You’re too good. He didn’t deserve to be saved by you, to be patched up with your nimble fingers like he had been treated when he was younger and more naive.
"I can make it to my place, it’s okay," he rasps gently.
You don’t have to say anything, because bullshit radiates through the stern expression of your eyes, your mouth in a grimace. You had always been stubborn and today isn’t an exception. With your webs, you crochet a path for him toward your home, lifting and catching the boy effortlessly as you swing.
A gentle sigh escapes his mouth when the two of you crawl into the safety of your fire escape. The night is quiet behind you. When he looks at you, you have to look away, fixing your hair nervously or occupying your gaze anywhere but in his direction. His eyes are poignant in their longing, though you’re unsure of what he could be thinking. If he’s sorry about before. If he’s ashamed.
Your wispy webs wrap around the parts of him that hurt, but you wince when you check on him to see that the white fibers are slowly saturated with the dark crimson of his open wounds.
"Peter, you have to wash up," you whisper. "Shit’s gonna get infected. I can put some gauze on you after you shower."
He nods wordlessly when you ask him if he can manage the shower on his own. He feels vulnerable, and although your presence is always desired by him, he finds relief in the hot steam of your shower, alone with his thoughts. He’s still shaken from the explosion. Not completely catatonic, but tense. As if he isn’t in his body at all.
When Peter emerges from the bathroom, he looks like a stranger. Scars adorn his sides. Your face crumples at the sight of his fresh wounds.
"C’mere."
It doesn’t take you long to fix him up, cleaning his cuts and wrapping gauze around his stomach and chest. His quiet grunts startle you, as if he's a wild animal. Eyes screwed shut, brows cinched in pain. A heavy exhale and a mumbled apology followed.
You forgive him with a soft touch and a hushed whisper. He wishes the ache would stop. He wishes he could lie on your bed and have you whisper in his ear all night until the sound of your voice lulls him to sleep.
There aren’t many words exchanged, and you want to ask him why. If you did something. But then you think about the images on the news and his withered face, and you decide not to probe the sphere of trauma surrounding him. Peter has probably gone through more in the last twelve hours than you have in a week.
You stop him before he tries to make it out of your bedroom door and towards the living room.
"I don’t mind sleeping on the couch, I’ve done it before."
"It’s like sleeping on a rock, Parker. You just gone through God knows what," you chide. "Just… get in here."
As he breathes in and out, he nestles in your shoulder, his clean hair tickling your bare skin. There’s a nasty guilt that lurches from your sternum. As if you were the reason for his pain. For the state of his body. And you think back to the desperate look in Peter’s eyes the night you took him home from the party. Were you too cruel, then?
It’s like he steals the words from your mouth. He beats you to it.
"I’m sorry," Peter murmurs. His amber eyes blink up at you, unfathomable. You flash him a downturned grin.
"For what?"
"I feel like… there’s been a distance between us lately. And I don’t want that, because you’re my best friend. And now you’re taking care of me when you don’t have to. I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate it. That I, um, lo–," he stammers. He chews on his bottom lip. "You’re really good."
"‘m not all that good, Peter."
But of course, you are, he protests in his head. You are the moon and the stars and everything in between.
"I’m sorry for not being around."
"Not just your fault," you shrug. "Phone works both ways."
He knows you better than you think because, within seconds, his palm rests softly on your cheek, where he feels a hot tear.
"What’s up, Spidey?" he asks you. It makes you laugh.
"Shut up." You shake your head, trying to hide your face. The feeling of his thumb rubbing your cheek makes the tears flow even more. "I wouldn’t know what I’d do if something bad happened to you. If I couldn’t get to you. Or if you – if you were gone."
"I’m okay, Rabbit. We’re okay."
"Yeah," you chuckle, trying to hide your tears.
"Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried."
You feel warmer in his grasp. His small breaths fall on your arm as his body curls up next to you. He’s bigger than he’d been before back when you were teenagers. The jaw is chiseled and sharp. Not as soft and boyish as you once knew. With your senses, you can discern the steadiness of his heartbeat as his chest rises and falls into slumber. You fall asleep soon after, dreamless but full of warmth.
____
Waking up next to him is nothing new, but it’s been years. You never thought anything of it when the two of you were sixteen, staying up all night reading creepypastas and watching movies until you’d fall asleep on top of each other by four in the morning.
After a night’s sleep, Peter's sullen face is a bit brighter despite his dark circles. His limbs are entangled in yours, bodies fused together. Yin and yang. You can only assume that this is how it will always be.
You keep mental notes of him like trinkets. The uneven slant in his left eyebrow. The faint freckles dotted along his nose, the one near the corner of his mouth. The faint shadow of hollowed-out cheeks. Peter is still half-boy to you, and half-man, but you didn’t want to come to terms with it. Maybe he was something else. Half-ghost. Half-angel.
Slowly, over the course of a few weeks, he comes back to you again. Sitting together and reading at a cafe. The occasional 3 am swing. Walking around high at the 7-11.
"Did you like Rhode Island?" he asks over a joint one night.
You hum for a second, trying to come up with an acceptable answer. It wasn’t that you hated being in Rhode Island. It was that you hated being away from him.
So instead, you shrug. "It was nice to get away from everything. Providence is still a city, but it isn't as large as all this–”
You trail off, making a vague gesture with your hands. Chaos, Peter presumes.
"Less overwhelming?"
"Sure," you say, nodding. "I missed being home, though."
I missed you.
Peter passes you the joint. His brain feels fuzzy. Warm. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He massages your ankle absentmindedly.
"I get it," he says, breaking the silence.
"You get what?"
"Wanting to leave. I've been thinking about it," Peter shrugs, his eyes squinting in the late afternoon sun. "Sometimes I wish we could pack our bags and go to the countryside. See some cows and shit."
We. We. We.
"There are cows upstate," you snort.
"You know what I mean."
"We can do a road trip."
"You can’t drive."
"I am aware and perfectly fine with being a passenger princess. In fact, I’m looking forward to it," you grin.
He yanks your ankle this time, causing you to slip from where you’re sitting on the pavement. Giggling, you swat away his hands, but he’s too quick, untying your shoelaces as you kick and thrash.
"Honestly, it’s probably better for society if you never get behind the wheel," Peter teases. He dodges you when you try to kick him in the shin.
"Oh, but you can be? You get so distracted so easily! Whenever you’d practice driving, you’d miss so many exits or be too anxious to merge on the highway."
"Okay, well, you’re just a force of distraction," he shrugs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "You have that effect on people."
You look at him quizzically, your eyes narrowing. If there’s anything behind his statement, he doesn’t show it on his face. Peter knows his cheeks are burning, however.
There are more moments like these. Ever since you’d rescued Peter that night, he’s grown accustomed to spending hours of his day idly looking for you, learning your class schedule, and following you home like a pet when it’s time to unwind. He stays for hours like he used to when you were kids, and although he always thinks he’s overstaying his welcome, you don’t seem affected.
You curl into him more these days, like a sunflower stretching toward the morning glow. There are more lingering touches, here and there. You have to remind yourself not to get too comfortable, but God, he makes it so easy.
So the burning question pops out during a marathon of Chainsaw Man.
"Does MJ care that we hang out so much?" you blurt out. He looks at you like you have three heads. Also, his mouth is full.
"Um, webrobrup," he mumbles. He frowns as he looks down. Hot Cheeto fingers.
You mock him, of course.
"English, yeah?"
He chuckles as he finishes scarfing it all down. He shyly licks his fingertips, and you have to stop yourself from staring at the way his fingers enter his mouth. Ugh, gross. This is hardly supposed to be hot.
"We broke up."
You keep a straight face. It’s not like you’re excited or anything. You realize you shouldn’t be surprised because… why else would he be so available to you lately?
"Shit. You really fumbled, then."
"Shut up," he laughs.
"Seriously. Who else is gonna wanna put up with you?" You both know the answer to that.
"It was mutual," he says, shrugging. "I’ve got all my Spider-man shit, she’s getting into a bunch of extracurriculars and even a research internship even though we’re literally first years."
"Classic MJ."
"Yeah."
"We’ll get you back on the market, buddy," you tease, patting his head like a dog. A coy smile lights up your features. It makes something inside him melt.
"I’m not a piece of meat."’
You click your tongue.
"Oh, right, you’re an insect."
"Hey, so are you!"
____
You used to think it was a kind of twin telepathy, the magnetism to Peter that you felt. Bitten by the same spider and entangled in the same web. You realize as you grow older that it’s more than a platonic bond. It feels like wanting to share the same skin.
Or maybe it’s the wine talking.
It’s not your job to keep Peter afloat at the party right now, but both of you remember too well how the last party went. He continually sips water in between gulps of whiskey like a paranoid freak, which you tease him about. Maybe it’s just the darkness of his eyes under this light, but his pupils look wide and dilated.
It’s almost March. You’d both endured a proper New York winter, which usually extends until April if you’re lucky, but global warming has other plans. It's warm enough for you to pair one of your favorite dresses with an oversized Carhartt jacket that used to belong to Peter before the bite bulked him up significantly. You fiddle with the black velvet wrapped around your body as you pretend to listen to banal conversations, leaning your head into Peter’s bicep.
You keep picking at loose threads obsessively. You think about your fingertips and their webs. You think that maybe you should take up crocheting to distract your hands from their restlessness.
Peter grabs your hand away from you, squeezing it slightly, not even looking at you. His flushed palm rests against yours. Gently rubbing your thumb between your finger divots
If you were a cat, Peter would imagine you purring right about now. He wants to take you into his lap, stroke your hair while the alcohol subsides in both of your systems. The thought of you on top of him causes his cock to twitch slightly. His rose-colored cheeks are from the whiskey, he reassures himself. An affirmation. He lets go of your hand.
He knows that this isn't the time or place for such thoughts, so he makes an effort to push the desires down. He knows they'll come up again when the whiskey leaves his veins, but at least he'll be of sober mind.
Christ, he feels like he's at a middle school dance. Especially when you run off with a spring in your step to socialize with some girls you recognize from school. The smell of your hair lingers next to him. It's sweet and slightly floral, a scent that makes him think of when you were kids.
His ears perk up like a dog's when you call his name, reaching out to him so that you can introduce your best friend. He has the right mind to be polite, even funny at times, but he knows he pales in comparison to your current charisma, which contrasts with your usual wallflower nature.
Peter likes watching you talk, and you like that he watches you so intently. When you know he's watching, it's easy to deadpan some drunken jokes and elaborate superfluous tall tales from your high school days. His eyes are bright, and his bottom lip is chewed in between his teeth.
Suddenly, he gets to be alone with you in the kitchen. Your scent permeates the air. He could drown in it.
“Rabbit," you whine petulantly. "Swing me home."
"How drunk are you?" he chuckles with adoration.
"Not very. Just tired, s'all," you respond with a yawn. You scrunch your nose. "Can I sleep at yours?"
Peter looks at you with a soft gaze. "Of course, angel."
Angel. He's never called you that before. You decide that you like the sound of it.
By the time midnight comes around, you're barefoot in his bedroom, black velvet spinning loosely around your figure. In Peter's blurred vision, you look like a friendly apparition, one that particularly favors "Champagne Coast" by Blood Orange.
"Come into my bedroom, come into my bedroom," you quietly sing along as you sway your hips.
"You're already in my room."
Your smile beams at him, huge and illuminating, and impossible to look away from. Peter wishes that he could bottle up this moment to revisit it, or maybe live in it for the rest of his life. The sweetest way to exist.
Your body sinks to his level -- no, collapses -- as you roll over his heavy frame and rest yourself on your back. Your hair fans out like you're underwater. Your lips are red and wine-colored, freshly bitten. When you turn your head toward Peter, his hand plays with the exposed nape of your neck, fingertips grazing the creases of your skin.
"You used to be so gangly, you know," you murmur. Your voice is lower than usual.
"Okay, well, I'm not anymore."
"I could totally still take you in a fight." Still refers to the times when the two of you would attempt something along the lines of combat training, if combat training was just you unleashing your hotheadedness with your mutant powers instead of with your fists. If you weren't so agile, maybe Peter would've had a chance of winning.
"I'd like to see you try, angel."
It's decided -- you are on top of him, knees bent around his waist as you wrestle. The fabric of your dress pools around your waist in a way that feels sacrilegious. Peter has his hand on your thighs, and his touch feels white-hot to both of you, so he closes his eyes, tries to focus on swatting you away like a bat instead. When he opens his eyes, he meets your devilish ones, gleeful that you've managed to pin his arms above his head.
It would take two inches to break this spell of separation. He keeps trying to keep this bubble intact because the last time he tried to pop it, the look on your face made him want to dig a hole and lay in it forever.
Peter feels sorry for many things. He feels sorry for the times he's intruded, when he's made Mr. Stark angry, for the times he couldn't be there for you. He feels sorry that you had to take care of him when he wanted to do that for you.
Right now, however, Peter doesn't feel sorry at all. The slight twitch of your pulse, the way you smell, the curve of your bare shoulders -- it's all too tempting for him to feel sorry for. So he kisses you.
He's surprised when you nearly bite him back. You inhale sharply, pressing your body against him as you let go of his wrists and rest your palms on his jaw instead. Your kiss is fervent, desperate.
His brow cinches in confusion when you pull away.
"Wha--"
"Fuck."
"What is it?" He frowns.
"I owe Ned twenty bucks."
"What?"
"I just remembered. At graduation, he was like, teasing me that we were gonna get together, and we bet on who would make the first move. I was just entertaining him, but you know how that kid gets about twenty dollars."
"So you thought you were going to make the first move, then?”
“I mean, yeah. How was I supposed to know that MJ was going to cuff you before I did?”
“You snooze, you lose, I guess,” he deadpans.
“You don’t even fucking deserve me, you little freak,” you taunt, tickling his exposed midriff.
“God, I know. I’ve known that for a while. Too bad I want you regardless.”
He smiles as he captures your lips again, tasting sweet and smoky at the same time. He coaxes you onto your back and you revel in his body heat and the way his large hands grab the plush of your thighs, pushing and pulling your skin taut. It’s so erotic that it almost feels dirty.
You kiss him back like he’s your last meal while you roam your hands under his shirt, then to his protruding collarbones, then experimentally, to the tufts of his chestnut hair. You pull a bit too hard due to your eagerness and he lets out a mewl that you never could’ve imagined to come out of him.
“You like that, don’t you?” you taunt darkly. “Is that why you always want me to scratch your head when we watch movies?”
“I don’t care what you do as long as you’re touching me,” he breathes out, like a confession. “Don’t care how you touch me, s’long as it’s you.”
A tepid blush soaks your face. You shut him up with another kiss. He licks at your bottom lip, groaning softly at the feeling of your soft body against his.
“You’re so pretty, Peter,” you whisper.
“You are.”
Before you can react, you hitch a breath in surprise when you find that his hands have fully reached above the hem of your dress and onto the bare skin of your hip, toying with the elastic of your underwear. You part your legs, bending your knees so that you can pull the fabric off.
He sighs as his fingers tease the slot of your cunt, which grows wetter and wetter with every touch. Your sensitivity makes you squirm a little. He can tell so easily that you’re falling apart for him. He loves it.
You nearly whine when he takes away his fingers from you. Instead, he towers over your body, pulling your legs toward him as he pulls up the hem of your velvet dress and cascades kisses on your knees. He slowly works his way up to your thighs, biting gently, then hard. Meanwhile, his hands roam the perimeter of your chest and your ribs, all soft and pliable for him. You’ll be delighted when you wake up to a bruise on your thigh stuck in the shape of Peter Parker’s mouth.
A shiver lacerates your lower body all the way up to your neck – you feel it, viscerally. All from his mouth. He slots his tongue onto the bud of your clit going slowly just to watch you squirm.
“Please,” you beg.
“Please what?” His eyes are as dark as the sky. As dark as your dress.
“Your– your mouth. I need it. Please. More.”
Peter’s grip on your thighs tightens as his face moves closer to your center, licking incessantly as you cry out. You attempt to muffle your sounds with your hand covering your mouth, biting the skin on your palm. Your blood is hot, pumping hard, all the way down to your swollen clit, and he treats you like a man starved.
“Oh my God,” you gasp. “More, please. Pleasepleaseplease.”
He listens to you, forcing his ring and middle finger into your cunt and curling upward. Your legs shake involuntarily when he does this and it takes everything in him to not stop just so he can see the look on your face head-on. You look so beautiful right now.
“Gonna cum, Pete. Fuck.”
He closes his eyes as he savors your sweet taste. He feels it when you cum as if it’s happening in his body, too. A jolt to the sense. A vivacious rumble. Your mouth is slack, jaw falling open with your eyes screwed shut as you finish, and Peter towers over you to watch. He’s never seen you like this. He wants to keep the image of it forever.
You thank him with a messy kiss, not caring about the remnants of your lipstick. Your hands attack him, teeth nipping at his earlobe as you help him undress. Soon enough, the two of you are naked together, limbs entangled and kissing without paying any mind to oxygen.
You take his jaw in your hand as if he’s a delicate thing. Easy to break. It’s your turn to tease, now.
“What do you wanna do?”
“You’re such a little shit,” he mumbles, but he can’t help but grin.
“Tell me about it, Spidey.”
“Want you, Rabbit, want to make you feel good.”
“And how exactly will you do that?”
“Gonna fuck you. I’ll make you cry if you keep being a little shit like this, too.”
There’s no time for a reaction. He’s on top of you, pinning you down, and he licks your collarbone up to your jaw as you whine like a newborn kitten. He spanks your ass and you have to your bottom lip to keep from being too loud.
“You want it that bad, huh?”
“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. He melts at the sound of your voice, cooing softly as he playfully bites the skin of your cheek.
You love him like this, a burst of passionate energy focused on you and you only. His little angel. You remember your rabbit heart caged in your sternum fragile and thumping like an earthquake for him.
He pauses to give you another kiss, this time sweet as he licks up the bottom of your lip. You can feel him at the crux of your legs and you can feel the want pumping in your veins. Patience. Patience. Patience.
“You want me to go slow?”
“Of course not.”
You’re so relaxed in his grasp. Gooey with your desire that it might disgust you if you weren’t so enamored. You keep your eyes on him when he enters you – you want to see the look in his eyes.
Peter feels selfish wanting to tease you like this. He’s slow when he enters you, listening to your sweet exhales.
“Easy,” he warns. “‘m gonna take care of you, don’t worry."
Please floods your entire body like a heat stroke. You bend your knees upward and rake the smooth terrain of his back, lifting your hips up at the same time. He thrusts once, then twice, and already, he feels like he’s ready to unfurl completely.
“Fuck,” he groans. You’re so goddamn wet. Soft. Velvety.
“Don’t be shy, Peter,” you murmur. “C’mere.”
You keen into the way he buries his nose into your shoulder, shallow breaths uneven and erratic as he continues, losing control bit by bit as he goes on. His pleasure is the knife you twist inside yourself.
You gasp at the way he can carve you out, the way he knows exactly where to put his hands as he grasps for your body, like he’d molding you from clay. He drinks down your moans with his mouth, eyes fluttering at the impact of your cunt clenching him.
Peter props himself up now, moving his body backward so he’s perpendicular to your core. He holds you by your hips a little too hard, but you’d always liked it rough. You liked it when he would cuddle you or play with you or put his entire body weight on you. To smother was to be encased in something akin to love.
“Fuck,” he hisses, getting the hang of a constant rhythm. His hips slot with yours as his cock thrusts deeper into you, until he can feel the slight tremble of your thighs.
“You okay?” he asks, chest heaving.
“Yes, keep going. Keep going.”
You underestimate how fragile you are. A rough thrust almost has you there, until he pulls out of you like a stolen breath, and it leaves you whining.
“Pete.”
“Shh, I’m just trying to pace myself,” he breathes, jaw slack and glistening with sweat. “You feel too fucking good.”
“Come back or I’ll break your wrists.”
He chuckles, but you’re dead serious. You lift your body to him so you can pull his down, kissing him with a ragged hunger that’s all teeth and lust. He’s quick to match your vigor but with more tenderness than desperation. It makes you melt, how natural it is, how this is how it might’ve felt in a past life. Your bodies entwined in a way that’s proverbial.
He listens to you. Fucks you much rougher than before, giving in to what he wants, because he’s not sorry about how much he wants you. Your broken moans curl out of your throat and into his mouth and the feeling of him deep in you makes you feel like a balloon ready to burst from the pressure.
It’s like Peter reads your mind, because suddenly, his hand is around your throat. You’ve never looked more angelic to him than you do now, eyes half-lidded and your reddish mouth all lax.
“So fucking beautiful, I love you,” he mumbles against his mouth.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
All of Peter’s muscles are tense from holding back. Fuck, he doesn’t want to cum until you do.
Luckily, the way his cock stretches you out has you nearly drooling underneath him. He touches the deepest parts of your insides like he belongs there, like he was meant to be there, as if the way he turns his hips toward you is a vow in itself. You whimper at the feeling of it all and he nearly loses it.
“I’m so close,” you pants. Thank fucking God.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Cum for me,” he coos. “You’re doing so good. Fuck.”
Your gaze lingers on the shape of his mouth. You think about how his voice sounds when he calls you angel.
Your orgasm comes like a flower blooming, like a beam of light in the darkness. He feels it, too, so vividly like he shares your body. It feels strange how much he feels that he hasn’t felt before, and it makes him come undone right after you.
He pulls out of you and spills onto your stomach unceremoniously with something in between a grunt and a whimper. He’s all over you. You want to bury your body into his.
“Peter,” you whisper, your gaze languishing.
“Yes, angel?”
“I think I owe Ned fifty bucks now.”
He looks at you incredulously but you can’t keep the facade, bursting into laughter as he groans in annoyance and flops his body on top of yours.
“Ew, clean me up, at least,” you complain.
“Right,” he says, nodding. And he does, with a spare t-shirt from his floor absentmindedly while he shares a grin with you. “You serious, though?”
“Of course not,” you scoff. “Ned Leeds will never get anything over twenty bucks from me.”
He laughs and it sounds like heaven.
“You said you loved me,” you tell him.
“I do love you. I’ve always loved you.”
You could cry right now. Surely the influx of endorphins in your body is breaking the rest of your brain.
“I love you, too.”
You kiss him again, open-mouthed, teeth sucking slightly as his lips. He takes a fistful of your hair while his other hand caresses your jaw. It excites you when he breaks the kiss by pulling your hair. His cheeks dimple the slightest bit when he smiles at you.
“Don’t do that, you’re gonna get me hard again.”
“You have the stamina,” you shrug, hugging one of his oversized pillows to your chest.
“You’re cute.”
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“How come you call me angel now?”
Peter shrugs. He rubs his hands on your calves.
“You’re my guardian angel. Always have been. And you’re not allowed to complain about it being corny because it’s true.”
Peter is shy all of sudden as if he hadn’t just fucked you. His brown hair is tousled to bedhead perfection, messy and slightly frizzy, and the warmth of his skin radiates from the way his whole body seems to blush in front of you.
“I have a proposition.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Come on!” You nudge him, kicking him with your feet. You get off of his bed to rummage through his dresser drawers for an oversized t-shirt, just dodging his attempts to grab you by the waist.
“Okay. What is it?”
“We should use our webs next time.”
He blinks, smirking, indulging you for a second.
“Deal.”
tagging mutuals: @meliapis @cutetomholland @userholland @sparklingsin @tomdutch @userholland @vendettaparker @selfcarecap @simplykenni @uhlxis @cordiformity @sapphicsoie @seolaseoul @honeyspidey @logangarfield @justapurrcat @arachine @cocoamoonmalfoy @ohcaptains @aniqua
#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#spiderman x you#peter parker fluff#peter parker smut#peter parker angst#spiderman x reader#mcu!peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker x you#tom holland x you#tom holland x reader#tom holland smut#peter parker x you
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
hey! could you write something where tony accidentally finds out the reader, his daughter, and peter are dating? they’re both scared for his reaction but then he’s actually super cool about it :)
I LOVE STARK!READER !!
i got saucy w this one :,) my b
!!! 18+ MDNI !!!
content warnings — steamy peter make outs, light swearing, sexual content, suggestive dialogue.
✨masterlist✨.
2.1k.
Nothing could beat lazy Sundays at the compound. The whole team was either MIA, on a mission, or training, so every room fell still with serenity. It was the perfect time for you to stick your nose in a book, and lounge around the empty estate. Your father was off somewhere across the complex working on some gadget, which left you free to roam around wherever you wanted.
Your hair gently tickled your bare shoulders as you tied it up, laying your book face–open on the kitchen island so that you could keep reading and grab a snack. The air conditioning nipped at the skin exposed from your minimal clothing; your black–cropped tank top and favorite pair of shorts didn’t protect you from the artificial frost in the air, but it certainly helped with the heat when you stepped outside.
Just before your hands fell back to your book, arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Their shape and placement was something so familiar, the touch brought you more comfort than startle. Cedarwood and bergamot were quick to fill your nose whilst your boyfriend’s head craned into the base of your neck. His fingers locked to the belt loops of your shorts, tugging you back into him so that he could feel more of you.
“I’ve been looking for you..” His voice was throaty. Needy. The pads of his thumbs traced tiny circles into either of your hips, gently pressing further into your skin when your hand stretched up to comb through his fluffy brown curls. His affection and body heat were a welcomed company in the cold of the kitchen.
A smile found your face, even though Peter couldn’t see it from where he was. “I missed you too, baby.” Humming, your fingers scratched his scalp. “D’you know who’s here right now?” Your voice grew hushed, heart racing with the small adrenaline rush infiltrated your system.
“Your dad’s in his lab, Steve and Natasha are in the gym, and Vision’s with Wanda in the meeting room, but otherwise.. Everyone else’s out..” Peter’s voice dropped an octave as he spoke just above a whisper, his lips finding your collarbone. “Sam, Bucky, Thor..” In between each name, he placed another kiss on your neck, only inching higher. The more skin he nipped at, the more your fingers curled around his hair, curving your neck so that he had more access to you. “Bruce, Clint, Rhodey, Pepper…” His whispers sent shivers down your spine, especially as his left hand slid under the fabric of your shirt.
As Peter trailed kissed up to your jaw, a shuttered moan caught between your lips. You fought the urge to roll your hips back into his, knowing that you couldn’t finish what you were starting. If anybody found you two, your secret relationship would be out, and your dad would give you hell for it. “Peter.. We can’t…” You spoke breathlessly, tugging at his hair; it was an attempt to pull him from your body, but you didn’t try too hard.
His lips hovered over his favorite soft spot in the crevasse of your jawline, brushing his teeth along the surface of it just to rile you. It certainly didn’t help that he aimed his breathy chuckle right at it, but god did it feel good. “Why not?”
You huffed impatiently, eyes half lidded whilst your entire body anticipated the gentle brushing of his lips against your neck. His cooling fingers teased at the bottom of your left breast, testing waters you two hadn’t touched before. Sure, you’d let Peter Parker touch you like this plenty of times before, but never in the open like this. Never in the open where your secret could be outed.
“Cause I–” You felt the tug of Peter’s smirk against your skin at how worked up you were already getting. “I’m reading…” You knew that Peter was well aware of how secretive you needed to be. ‘Reading’ was merely just to give him a hard time.
He let out a quiet sigh, pressing a lingered kiss to your cheek. His thumb lightly rubbed at your rib cage beneath your shirt, but otherwise, he gave up his attempt. “You’re sure I can’t even get one kiss?” He asked, pouty even in his tone of voice.
You turned your head to look at him. Your eyes glanced at his lips just to tease him, “Over my dead body, Parker.” Your voice still sang out low, wanting nothing more than to taste him right then and there.
Peter’s face inched closer to yours, snickering quietly at your stubborn response. “Not if your dad kills me first..” He mused, voice still just as groveled as before. His lips nearly brushed against yours, but the sound of the floorboards outside of the kitchen made you both add three feet between you.
“Why would I kill you?” Your dad’s voice hummed nonchalant, as if he wasn’t interrupting such an intimate moment. He walked right through the thickening tension like it wasn’t the weight that it was. Tony’s focus seemed to be glued to his holographic wrist watch, completely oblivious to Peter’s hand slyly slipping out from under your black camisole.
You and Peter glanced at each other, astonished that he seemed so unfazed and unaware. Perhaps, your father didn’t hear as much of the conversation as you assumed he did. Maybe he truly was clueless to the blush coating your cheeks, and the timid bulge poking at the fly of Peter’s jeans.
“Uhh..” Peter lost every thought that occupied his brian. “Because I ate the last Pop Tart. I–I just figured you’d be upset.” Even he didn’t sound convinced about the excuse.
Finally, Tony looked up from his watch, eyeing you first, then Peter. This was the closest you two were to getting caught, and even though the AC was cranked fairly high, it felt like the air suddenly ran much cooler. Your heart was in your throat, easing a little when your father walked over and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek.
Tony leaned back on the kitchen island beside you, crossing his arms over his Nirvana band–tee. “Lucky for you, kid, I’ve got a whole secret stash in my lab.” He spoke with his typical Tony tone, “I’ll let you off the hook this time.”
Little did you or Peter know that your father actually heard most of your conversation. How much of it? He’d never tell you. Tony Stark knew that you and Peter had the hots for each other for a long time. He was just waiting for both of you to come clean about the relationship, or for the perfect time for him to address it. He’d known for a while, but the longer it took, the more entertaining it was to act like he was oblivious to it. Now, how he found out about the relationship, he’d never tell that to you either.
“Are you calling my daughter a liar, Rogers?” Tony asked the blonde from across the pool table, watching as the captain missed the shot with no reaction.
Steve stood upright, stepping back so that Tony had room to make his turn. “No. No, Tony.” He started, “All I’m saying is that if Peter were chivalrous, he would ask you for your permission first. That’s all.”
The topic of the evening was why you and Peter both flaked out of game night. Ever since Sam joked that you could’ve been bailing to go out together, every conversation Tony had was directed on how likely the possibility truly was.
His eyes squinted at Steve, readjusting his cue and stance in one swift movement. He knew Steve was traditional, but sometimes, Tony forgot just how traditional he really was. “They don’t need my permission. They’re teenagers.” Tony creased his hips, focusing on the pool table for a second. “Besides,” with a faint clank, Tony knocked two balls in with one hit, “Maybe she asked him out. It’s the twenty–first century.”
Steve sighed with a slight twinge of annoyance, both at Tony’s coyness and his success in their game. He leaned on his cue like a cane, watching the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist walk around the table again. “Alright, fine.” Steve huffed. “But if they are out canoodling tonight, what are you going to do about it?”
A focused glare glistened in Tony’s eyes as he bent over to take the shot. He pulled the cue back a few times, pondering on both his turn and the question. If he made this shot correctly, he could win the whole game; if you and Peter were really out on a date, what would he do?
Tony shoved the wooden rod in his hand, acing the shot just like he calculated. He subtly smirked to himself, looking back at Steve to answer his question. “I’ll find a way to give them hell for it.”
And that, he was. Ever since he caught you and Peter getting frisky on the security system later that night. That conversation happened months ago, and Tony still managed to make both of you incredibly jittery. He wasn’t entirely sure why it was such a big deal to tell him, or why you’d kept it a secret for so long, but he knew sooner than later you’d find a way to tell him.
Little did he know, Peter Parker was finding his way onto your bedroom in the thick of night after patrols.
You unlocked the door to your balcony, welcoming him in with the kiss you meant to give him hours earlier. Hungrily, your lips clasped with his, getting drunk on his taste, and lacing your fingers in his hair. “God, I missed you..” You spoke between kisses.
“Missed you too, baby..” Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, finally able to relax in your presence.
Both of you took steps towards your bed, slow and steady to avoid the lack of contact. Peter’s mask was lost somewhere on your bedroom floor, and you wasted no time to press the button on his chest and strip him from the suit he’d been wearing.
Peter got to your bed first, sitting back on it and quickly helping you climb on top of him. His hands grasped every inch of you that they could — grazing your neck, squeezing at your hips, grabbing your ass, and now inching up your inner thigh as you straddled his lap. His hips arched up to meet yours, pressing up against you in a delicious way.
Tongues greeting each other, you both moaned into each other’s mouth. You couldn’t get enough of each other, and the foreplay only reminded you of how little patience you had for it. You didn’t just want Peter right now, you needed him. Inside you. The ache in your lower stomach felt throbbing, and you were confident that your arousal was already coating the fingers Peter had at your upper thigh.
Just as you both parted the kiss to catch your breath, your bedroom door abruptly opened, light invading the room. Your blood ran cold as your head snapped toward the door in time with Peter’s; you both met the casual stare of your father. Tony Stark stood in the doorframe, unfazed, in pajamas, toothbrush in his mouth.
The room fell quiet, apart from the sounds of the bristles cleaning Tony’s pearly whites, and the faint heavy breaths that you and Peter tried to catch.
Taking the toothbrush out of his mouth, Tony was the first to break the awkward, deafening, silence. “Hey, Kid.” Tony’s head nodded upwards, as though he were greeting Peter in public. Not like he was speaking nonchalantly to Peter, flushed, in boxers, sat beneath his daughter’s thighs. “Next time, can you use the front door so that I don’t have to disarm the security system?” Even if little he knew, little was still more than nothing.
Peter stared blankly at him, sure as hell that this had to be some nightmare he just hadn’t woken up from yet. He glanced at you, then swallowed the frog stuck in his throat. “Uh– uh, yep! Yeah, I–uh, I can do that!” He wasn’t sure why his voice always raised two octaves when he was nervous, but it definitely made this moment that much more amusing for Tony.
With a small smile, your dad grabbed the doorknob with his freehand. “Thanks.” He then put the toothbrush back in his mouth, slowly shutting the door. “Have fun! Use protection.” His words were muffled and spat due to having his mouth full, but he shut the door after that.
As awkward as it must’ve been for you and Peter, Tony found that moment to be as satisfying as he pictured it to be. Boy, he would give Peter the talking to of a lifetime in the morning, but it thrilled him to know that you’d found someone who made you so happy.
He didn’t see need to kill Peter either, after all.
#🕊️ .゜・ ˗ˏˋ ☾ ´ˎ˗ 𝕰𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝕽𝐄𝐐.#🪷 .゜・ ˗ˏˋ ☾ ´ˎ˗ 𝕭𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒.#peter parker x reader#mcu peter parker#mcu imagine#peter parker blurb#peter parker imagine#peter parker#peter parker x reader#imagine#marvel imagines#mcu#peter parker smut#peter parker fluff#mcu peter parker x reader#blurb#smut#peter parker angst#tom holland x reader#tom holland imagine#tom holland
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
slip up | t.h.
tom holland x famous!reader
warnings: none just fluff
summary: tom slips up on instagram live
wc: 335
a/n: missed u guys sorry abt my absence:(<3
"That's a wrap for today! Go rest those vocal cords, Y/L/N." Toby, your producer bid you a farewell as you finished in the studio.
You nodded and hugged everyone goodbye before heading to your driver's car. It was at least midnight by the time you got back to your boyfriend's home that he shared with his best mates.
You and Tom had been dating for nearly a year and had done an impressive job of keeping your relationship away from prying eyes. With only a few suspicions here and there, the public saw you two as best friends and nothing more.
In his king sized bed, Tom was on Instagram live chatting with his fans. He needed a way to pass the time as he waited for you to come home from the studio.
"Why am I up so late? Jet lag sucks, guys." Tom lied to his fans.
He hasn't been on a plane in weeks.
"Is anyone in the house awake? Nope. They all sleep at, like, eleven or earlier. Party poopers." he frowned to the camera.
You quietly unlocked the front door, trying your best to not wake anyone in the house. Tiptoeing towards Tom's bedroom, you saw that his light was on, peeking out from under his door. With furrowed eyebrows you opened the door and saw him sitting against the headboard on his phone.
He smiled when he saw you, completely forgetting about his live, "Hi, darling. I missed you," he put his phone down and pecked your lips, "Did you get driven here?" you nodded, "You should've sent me a text," he picked up his phone and glanced at the screen, "I could've—" he froze.
You finished tying your hair up and looked at him with confusion written across your features. You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong before he slapped a hand over your lips.
He looked at you with wide eyes, "I'm live on Instagram." he whispered.
You had to choke down a laugh because you knew the fans would recognize the sound immediately. You managed to peak at the screen without being in the cameras view and the comments had you struggling to keep your laughter down.
'HE HAS A GF???????'
'i'm gonna kms'
'WHO IS IT'
'no fucking way'
'PLS BE ZENDAYA'
'IM HYPERVENTILATING'
Tom opened and closed his mouth like a fish as he tried to come up with something, anything, to say. "Um, looks like I'll be going now. Thank you for joining and I'll see you all very soon." He had a sheepish grin as he spoke.
You smirked before speaking. "Bye guys." And pressed the button to end the live. Not waiting to see the reactions to your voice or if they would recognize it.
Tom wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you on top of him, "Cheeky one, you are." he placed a kiss on your forehead as you smiled into his chest.
#tom holland#tom holland angst#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut#tom holland one shot#tom holland imagine#tom holland instagram#tom holland girlfriend#tom holland x famous!reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x fem#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x singer!reader#tom holland x actress!reader#tom holland fake instagram#tom holland blurb#tom holland and reader#tom holland edit#tom holland fic#tom holland headcanon#tom holland masterlist#tom holland oneshot#tom holland request#tom holland reader insert#tom holland social media au#tom holland series#tom holland uncharted#tom holland wallpapers
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Reading fanfics with y/l/n is such a struggle as a european
Like they would never be able to pronounce my last name 😭😭😭
#x reader#spencer reid x reader#harry potter#harry potter x reader#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x reader#peter parker x reader#smut prompt list#fluff prompt list#angst prompt list#fanfiction#ao3#harry styles x reader#niall horan x reader#tom holland x reader#pedro pascal x reader
245 notes
·
View notes
Text
FOR YOU
mdni | 18+ content
pairing: peter parker x fem!reader
warnings: period head / oral - f!receiving / very light smut / descriptions of injuries & blood / angst if you squint
peter parker likes giving period head. he doesn't have a strange fascination with your blood, doesn't think he needs to do it to be close to you, but he does it anyway.
he does it because of all the times he's desperately crawled through your second floor window and stained the egg white walls with sticky streaks of blood that seep into a permanent muddy brown before you even get a chance to scrub at them. he does it because of the time he destroyed your favourite nightshirt as a consequence of the violent gash on his lower midriff that refused to stop pulsing; ebbing blood all over the cream coloured fabric and staining it beyond repair before you could even begin to think of anything other than the fact that spiderman was successfully bleeding out against your windowsill. he does it because of the times where you've been disgusting and damp with his blood, but never refused to cradle him to sleep or press kisses into his sweat & blood streaked hairline.
he does it because for once that tangy, metallic taste that lingers in his mouth is a result of the adoration he feels for you. a reminder of all the times you've been there when no one else was, of the way he thinks he could die happy between the gentle warmth of your thighs.
and for once, the heavy staining and protruding scent is something peter doesn't have to reflect on with a rising heart rate and sweaty palms when he remembers the way he felt like he was going to die without you.
@shellxrls 2023
#my works.ᐟ ⋆｡˚𖦹#mdni.ᐟ ⋆｡˚𖦹#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x reader smut#peter parker x reader angst#peter parker imagine#peter parker blurb#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fluff#peter parker x you#peter parker smut#tom!peter parker x reader#tom!spiderman#spiderman x reader#spiderman#tom holland smut#cw period sex#mdni
377 notes
·
View notes
Text
chilly
pairing(s): mcu peter parker x sick!fem!reader
desc basically im obsessed with sick!fics. posted one a while back for another fandom 🤭 just peter worried.
a/n holy shit im so sorry i haven't been posting lately my loves. my house is currently being sold and i've been running ramped. i wrote this after i had time off work. hope you enjoy.
warnings language, fluff, grammar. (please message me if i missed any!)
@cozytober2023
requests | open 💌 masterlist
It was only October 7th and you we're already a stuffy snotty sticky mess from the sudden drop of temperature outside.
It was cold outside, but the light from your wooden bedroom windows sunbathed the room, brightening your pale complexion.
tissues were plastered all over your messy bed and your phone was constantly dinging with messages from your group chat. you didn't show up to work, or to school that day, and by the looks of your random naps and binge watches on Netflix, you had forgot to call anyone to let them know you couldn't make it, including your boyfriend peter.
you kept coughing which made your head pulsate more as you wrapped your blanket around you and curled into it, squirming and desperately trying to get comfortable.
he was always super protective of you. sometimes it was really annoying but it felt good to know he was always thinking of you. and thats probably an understatement.
you felt sick. that might've been a blunt word, but everytime you tried to swallow your own spit it hurt like hell and you felt your head beating in pain like a heart would pump blood.
you groan and pull your comforter back over your head before you flutter your eyes closed and try to get your mind off the pain in your throat. It burned everytime you breathed which made you hiss uncomfortably. You eventually get yourself to fall asleep (after way too many doses of NyQuil) with half of your body immersed in your pillow.
you rested softly for a few hours before you woke to the sound of peter climbing through your window. you're eyes could barely adjust to the light as your tried to look up to see who it was, but your body was too tired to try and shake yourself up.
he rolled on the floor after falling from your complicated window sill but quickly got up with a groan.
he puffs, dusting him self off as he looks around the room for his girl.
"love?" peter looked around curiously to find you laying in your bed.
he carefully knelt down and shook you slightly as you woke up again with a jump.
you cough. "jesus, peter. you scared the shit out of me." you shift your arms behind you to prop yourself up, as he tucks a piece of your hair that fell back behind your ear.
"sorry," he laughs. "i just got really worried. I came as soon as I could. are you alright? why weren't you at school? or work- MJ said you didn't come."
his smile turns into a concerned perplexed look.
"uh", you sit up and rub your eye, coughing.
he noticed you sweating, and your puffy red eyes and a nose rubbed red.
"are you feeling okay?" his eyes and face look soft for you as his lip pouted a little.
he comes closer to you, kneeling down as he rests his hand on your forehead gently. you press your lips together and sniffle.
"pete, im fine."
"but- you're burning up!" he adds, as you look away from him.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier? i could've taken school off or-"
"peter." you look up.
"no." you croak, "i would never let you do that."
He puffs his cheeks and breathes out as he sits with you in your bed. You look in your boyfriends eyes as he turns his head to examine you.
"you don't look well, sweets." he frowns as he kisses the top of your forehead.
"i know", you say as you sniffle and your face starts to tickle a little.
he hands you a tissue as you sneeze in your sleeves. "bless you." he rests his tongue to the side of his mouth.
spidey senses.
"you okay?" he looks at you.
"mhm", you purse your lips.
you blow your nose as he looks at your face again.
"you gonna let me take care of you?" he holds his breath in worry.
you shake your head. "no."
he frowns again. "but you're sick! you're my girlfriend I can't just leave you here." He seems stressed, folding his his hands on your arms.
you cough and add, "i don't want you to get sick. plus, you have patrol tonight."
he shakes his head. "no way, im staying."
"No." you look in his eyes.
"Yes." he nods.
"No, peter."
"Yes, y/n." he crosses his arms.
you sigh.
"im staying right here." He says determinedly as he wraps his arms around you from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder. worry chilled up his spine for you.
"okay," you give up. "its cold anyway." you couldn't resist him. you didn't want him to patrol in the this insane cold weather anyways.
you pull a sweatshirt over your head.
"movie?" we whispers. "i'll get you snacks." he rubs your back softly.
you sweat a little and try to swallow.
you smile a little, "okay."
coughing, he rubs your arm. "are you okay?" he looks at you worriedly.
"im fine, my body just hurts."
he pulls you in a hug before kissing your head and leaving the room to go to the kitchen.
he gets back almost instantly with a bag of candy and popcorn, setting it on the bed and a mug of hot tea for your throat on the bedside table.
"can i get you anything else?" he looked sad.
your heart warmed and hurt at the same time.
"no, im okay."
he places a bowl of soup down next to the mug as you lean over to take it and sip it gently.
he lays in your bed as you open your laptop to the same crime documentary.
"again?" he groans, shifting his neck up against the pillow as he scrunches his face, looking at the ceiling.
as you giggle he looks up to see your smile which made his stomach hurt.
"yes, again." you try to hold back your lips from curling into a laugh.
he sighs and clicks the play button on your computer.
you rest your head on his chest, snuggling into him as he lays his arm around you, intertwining your hand into his.
"love you." he whispers in your hair softly, tucking a kiss to the back of your head.
taglist my idols/inspo @everythingisawayoflife @cafekitsune @luveline @scarthefangirl @elliexmylove @thevoidsaidnothanks @thestarvingwriter @spider-stark @bittenbyyou @incorrectmarvelquote @badass-dora-milaje @yes-i-am-happyaspie join my taglist ♡
#peter parker x reader#peter parker#mcu peter parker#mcu imagine#mcu x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#peter parker × reader#sickfic#peter parker headcanons#spiderman fluff#spiderman fic#spiderman imagine#spiderman fanfiction#peter parker fluff#spiderman angst#tom holland imagine#tom! peter imagine#peter parker mcu#avengers imagine#peter parker x y/n#peter parker × you#marvel × reader#marvel#marvel imagine#mcu#sickfics#peter parker sickficks#cozytober#cozytober 2023
436 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter and you argue because he loves to spend all of his money on you.
𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k
𝗮/𝗻: sorry for disappearing for a few months… again 😭 i am slowly getting back into writing so please bear with me! i saw my last fic reached over 9000 notes so that really motivated me to write something else for you guys ♡ i’m not so sure how i feel about this but i really do see peter as the type of boyfriend to blow all of his paycheck on you so i just had to write this LOL anyways i hope you all enjoy this!!
“put it on my card” you suddenly hear peter say as he pulled your earphones out, causing you to jump.
you were trying to keep yourself awake while waiting for peter to come through your window after patrolling for the night. to keep yourself occupied, you decided to listen to music and do some online shopping (which consisted of you just putting things in your cart but never actually buying anything). with your back facing your window and your earphones in, you didn’t see or hear peter come inside.
“jesus christ peter, don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“yeah yeah whatever” he says not really caring that he nearly scared the life out of you. “as i was saying before you rudely snapped at me, put your order on my card”
“i literally have over $400 worth of clothes in my cart”
“and?”
“what do you mean and? that’s expensive”
“your point?”
“that’s more than half of your paycheck”
“doesn’t matter. the whole reason why i have a job is to spoil you” he says while taking off his suit and getting comfortable in your bed.
“aww pete, you’re too sweet. but still, no. i don’t want you spending that much money on me”
he hummed an okay which led you to believe he was gonna just drop the conversation.
you were so wrong.
before you know it, he’s shooting a web at your laptop and dragging it over to him.
“NOOOO!” you scream dramatically and tackle him on your bed before he can type in his card information.
“LET ME BUY YOU CLOTHES!” he screams back while trying to push you off of him so he can grab your laptop again.
you quickly snatched your laptop from the bed and ran out of your room as fast as you could.
“GET BACK HERE!” peter shouted while chasing after you to which you just ignored and kept running away.
“you know what, you leave me no choice” he abruptly stops chasing you which causes you to stop in confusion.
suddenly, he jumped and stuck to your roof with his webs, and webbed your laptop over to him. you literally had no way of getting to him now.
“that’s no fair, you’re cheating!” you whined.
he laughed at you standing helplessly below him and finally placed your $450 order on his card.
“here you go” he smiled and jumped down from the roof, handing your laptop back over to you.
before you were about to scold him for spending so much money on you, you heard a knock at your door.
you and peter both looked at each other confused because you weren’t expecting anybody for the night. he walked to the door and opened, revealing the people you were least expecting.
the police.
“hello, we were called over here for a noise complaint. your neighbors reported screaming being heard from your apartment room and they were concerned. is everything alright?”
you did not expect to end your night by explaining to the police that you and your boyfriend were screaming over buying clothes.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker blurbs#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#peter parker smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland#tom holland fluff#peter parker#tom holland angst#peter parker imagine#peter parker fic#spiderman x reader#spiderman fluff#spiderman angst#spiderman smut#spiderman#marvel#spiderman blurbs#tom holland smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Interception
Pairing: Peter Parker x Best Friend!Reader
Synopsis: Flash’s pool party turns into a kissing party and Peter fears you’ll kiss someone else
Masterlist
“Hobo. Bride of hobo. Are you coming to my party Friday?” Flash said as he held up a bright orange flyer that had the details of a pool party at his house on it.
“What party?” Peter asked as he shut his locket.
“The party you weren’t invited to. Later suckers.” Flash laughed obnoxiously, flipped you both off, and then ran away. You and Peter looked at each other before shaking your heads in disbelief.
“Wow. I haven’t been called a sucker in…ever.” You realized.
“Me either. I thought it was one of those fake high school experiences that only happens in movies. Like a bully asking for your lunch money or dunking your head in a toilet.” Peter replied.
“Or making a volcano for the science fair.” You added, making Peter smile.
“Yeah. Exactly.” He said as he looked at you fondly for understanding him.
“So what are we gonna do Friday while the rest of our school goes to Flash’s super cool party?” You asked as you threw some books in your locker.
“Oh, we’re hanging out on Friday? I didn’t know that.” Peter blushed at your nonchalant invitation. You’d never hung out just the two of you before and the fact that it seemed like an obvious choice of plans for you made Peter happy.
“Well, duh. Neds definitely gonna be invited ever since him and Flash bonded over getting left behind on the field trip freshman year. We should do something.”
“Just you and me?” Peter asked with a hopeful smile.
“Yeah. It’ll be fun.” You smiled back and wondered if the thought of alone time was as exciting for you as it was for Peter.
“Maybe we can grab some ice cream and then hang out on my roof. It’s pretty nice up there once you scare the bats away.”
“I love that idea. It’s a date.” You replied without thinking. You face dropped when you realized what you called it while Peter turned bright red.
“Or whatever we want to call it.” You quickly added with a forced laugh.
“We can call it a date.” Peter shrugged, taking you by surprise. You smiled at him just as the bell rang.
“Well then it’s a date. Catch you later, P.” You squeezed Peters arm before going to your next class. Peter watched you leave with a dreamy smile on his face. This Friday, you’d finally be going on a date. Whether it was an ice cream date, a friend date, or a date date, he was just happy to be going with you.
The next day, Flash caught up to you on campus and walked with you to your next class.
“Hey, pookie. I would like to formally invite you to my pool party.” Flash said as he held out a flyer for his party.
“Really? What made you change your mind?” You laughed in surprise and took the flyer.
“I realized something and had a change of heart.” He replied.
“Oh yeah? What did you realize?”
“That inviting you gets I mean to see you in a bathing suit.” Flash said, making you laugh in shock.
“Gross. But thanks. For the invite, I mean. Not for the other thing.” You said and shoved the flyer in your backpack.
“You can bring Parker too. Since you two are dating or cousins or whatever.”
“Neither.” You chuckled. “But yeah, I’ll bring him.”
“Perf. See you Friday, my little cinnamon apple.” Flash blew you a kiss and walked away just as Peter approached you.
“What did he want?” Peter faked a laugh and hoped it hid the jealousy he felt when he saw Flash blowing you a kiss.
“Good news. Flash kindly extended the invitation to us.” You said and took the flyer out to show Peter.
“Oh, really? So we can go?” Peter asked and hoped he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt. He could care less about a stupid party. He just wanted to be with you.
“Yeah. If you want.” You shrugged, also not really wanting to go. Your date with Peter sounded much more appealing.
“Sure. It’ll be fun.” Peter lied through a smile.
“Maybe we can still get ice cream after. Just the two of us.” You suggested, making Peters smile turn genuine.
“Yeah. If the party’s lame, we can just slip out and go on our date.” Peter said just to use the word “date” again. You smiled sheepishly and nodded your head.
“It probably will be lame. We can stay for the food and then have some real fun. Just me and you.”
“Ned will probably want to come with us, though.” Peter realized as his disappointment returned.
“Too bad.” You shrugged. “He can hang with us anytime. But he can’t come on our date.”
Peter grinned as you said everything he hoped you would. Your date was still on the table and he might even get to see you in a bikini before it. That was the only thing making either of you want to go to the party.
When Friday came, there was prep to be done. You and Peter went to your dorms after class and began to prepare for the evening ahead. Peter laid out all his swim trunks before trying them all on to see which one he could best impress you in. Meanwhile, you were looking in your floor length mirror and making an important decision.
“I’m gonna shave my entire body.” You whispered to yourself. When MJ came home from class a little while later, she found you covered neck to toe in shaving cream with a razor in your hand.
“Should I even ask?” She asked when you froze at the sound of her opening the door.
“Pool party.” You told her. “Peters gonna be there. I don’t want him to know I have body hair. He can’t see the hair on my upper thighs. He just can’t, MJ.”
“Every single person literally ever, including Peter, has body hair covering their entire body. He already knows you have hair on your thighs. Everyone does. Why do you have to do all this?” She couldn’t help but laugh as she gestured to your shaving cream covered body.
“Look, you don’t shave your armpits and that’s amazing and more power to you for not caring about society’s expectations for female body hair, but tonight, I do care. I care enough to need Peter to think I’m as sleek and slippery as an exfoliated baby dolphin covered in baby oil.”
“Fine. Give me a razor. I’ll do your back.” MJ sighed and held out her hand. You fist pumped before giving her a spare razor.
Peter was back in his room making sure he looked his best for you. He ended up in navy blue swim trunks and a fitted white T-shirt that you complimented once. He twirled around in front of his mirror and made sure everything looked right. When he was satisfied, he drenched himself in body spray, grabbed a towel, and headed to your dorm.
You rinsed off the shaving cream and put on a perfume that Peter said he liked once before changing into your bathing suit. You put your hair into two braids and threw a big shirt on over it just as Peter came knocking on your door. You gave MJ a look before throwing on a smile and opening the door.
“Hey, P. Oh, I like that shirt.” You complimented him as you leaned against your door.
“Oh, thanks.” Peter blushed even though he only wore that shirt for you. “I, uh, like your hair like that.”
“Thanks. I didn’t want the chlorine to dry it out.” You shrugged and tugged on one of your braids to draw attention to it.
“It’s cute.” Peter said in a weak voice, making your smile.
“Yeah? I’ll have to do it more often then.” You did your best to flirt. Peter laughed shyly and rubbed the back of his neck.
“You should. It looks really good on you.” He said without making eye contact. Something was most definitely in the air between you tonight and you both felt it. You touched your braid again not to draw attention to it, but to feel beneath your fingers what Peter was seeing.
“Damn. I thought the awkward friend hook up happens after the party. Should I leave?” MJ said from behind you. You hung your head in shame as Peter turned red.
“We’re leaving. Bye.” You gave her a look as you grabbed your bag and shut the door.
“Use protection! And I don’t mean sunblock.” She called after you from inside your dorm room.
“Oh my God. We need to get out of here.” You laughed in embarrassment and took Peters hand to pull him towards the elevator. Once you were in the elevator, you stood side by side and avoided eye contact since MJ had now made things awkward. You didn’t know how tonight was gonna go, but going to sleep as more than friends with Peter would be nice. Even if all that happened was a kiss, you’d be satisfied.
You and Peters hands bumped a few times as you walked to Flash’s house. You had a feeling in your gut that once you walked into this party, things were going to change. You could only hope they were changing for the better.
“Well look who it is. Frick and Frack. Welcome to my party.” Flash greeted you and Peter as you walked in through his gate. Flash’s house was naturally enormous and his pool looked like a lake. There was a water fall on one end, a diving board, and a tray of drinks going around on an inflatable table. Flash himself was in the tiniest pair of swim trunks you had ever seen. They were golden and had his name stitched across the butt, making you and Peter burst out laughing when you saw it.
“Hey Flash. Thanks for the invite.”
“My pleasure. Or, it will be once you drop that shirt.” Flash winked at you. “Anyways, hope you guys brushed your teeth before this.”
“Why?” You frowned. You had, of course, and so did Peter.
“Because this is a kissing party.” Flash said like it was obvious. Your eyebrows went up and you looked at Peter who was just as confused.
“Sorry, what? What the hell is a kissing party?” You laughed, thinking he was kidding.
“Duh. It’s a party where you kiss as a competition.” Flash rolled his eyes. “The person at the end of the party who kisses the most people wins.”
“Wins what?” Peter wondered.
“The Cuban Rizzle Crisis.” Flash shrugged. “You’re crowned Rizz Khalifa. The Rizzly Bear. You get a degree in Quantum Rizzics. You become the Rizzard of Oz. You star in Harry Potter and the Rizzoner of Azcaban. You feel me?”
There was a long, long silence as you and Peter stared at Flash. Flash’s gaze was piercing as he looked back at the two of you with no shame.
“What?” Peter said finally, making Flash roll his eyes.
“Just kiss as many people as you can and keep count.”
“But can’t multiple people win if they all kiss everyone at the party?” You pointed out.
“Not everyone plays.” Flash shrugged. “Plus, people are always coming and going. There is never a fixed amount of people here. And you can deny a kiss if you think the person is gross.”
“So you probably won’t get any kisses then.” Peter said, making you laugh.
“Suck my balls, Parker.” Flash scoffed before turning to you.
“By the way, cutie pie, that’s an open invitation.” He said with a wink.
“Hard pass.” You replied.
“All right. Let me know if you change your mind, pookie.” He winked at you again and you looked away.
“I won’t. And I don’t think I’m gonna play. I don’t really get down like that.” You told Flash. Peter internally sighed in relief. He had feared that you were gonna play and end up kissing other people while he had to watch. But luckily, you were on the same page.
“Me either.” Peter added. You looked at him in surprise before smiling.
“Fine. You two can just make out in the corner or call your grandma or something.” Flash grumbled.
“Again, not dating and not cousins.” You corrected Flash.
“Whatever. I don’t judge.” Flash held up his hands and walked away. Once you and Peter were alone again, you looked at each other and laughed.
“Kissing party? Come on. That’s not a real thing, is it?” Peter asked you.
“I think he got it from a movie or something. There’s no way people really do this. Imagine the germs. Bleh.” You stuck your tongue out and then pulled your shirt off. Peters whole world stopped as he saw you in a bathing suit for the first time since sixth grade. He didn’t realize how much he was staring until he heard you laugh uncomfortably.
“Peter? Are you still with me?” You asked and waved a hand in front of his face.
“Yeah. Sorry. I thought I saw a bug on your leg.” He lied before tugging his shirt off. You stared at him shamelessly until the shirt was over his head and then pretended you were looking somewhere else. It had slipped your mind that Peter got randomly jacked one day and he had just reminded you with a full view. You’d only ever seen his muscles through his occasional tight shirt but this was much more revealing than that. You snuck one more glance and gulped before throwing on a smile.
“Do you want to get in the water?” You asked. Being in the water mean you wouldn’t have to fight for your life trying not to stare at Peters body for a while.
“Sure.” He smiled and held out his arm. You wrapped your arm around his and walked over to the stairs of the pool.
“Ah it’s…not cold. It’s actually the perfect temperature.” You realized after bracing yourself for the cold pool water.
“Of course he has a heated pool.” Peter grumbled and walked in. You swam over to a spot near some people but also a little isolated. The people behind you were making out and once you both noticed that, you blushed.
“Wow. They’re earning points already.” You chuckled.
“I know. I wonder who’s gonna win.”
“Us. Definitely.” You joked, making Peter laugh.
“Oh, for sure. I’m already making a list in my head of all the people I’m gonna kiss.” He played along.
“Oh yeah? Who’s at the top of the list?” You asked as you swam closer to Peter. Peter looked at your lips and then into your eyes before smiling shyly.
“The list is actually just your name written a hundred times in your handwriting.” Peter joked. You smiled in shock and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Really? Tell me more about that?” You asked. Peter gulped and wasn’t planning on telling you anything. Instead, he’d show you how he felt by finally kissing you.
But before that could happen, Brad Davis swam over and tapped your shoulder.
“Hey, Y/n. I didn’t see you come in.” He smiled.
“Oh, yeah. Peter and I just got here.” You smiled in disappointment and let go of Peter.
“Cool, cool. So, I’m sure Flash told you what kind of party this is.” Brad said, making Peters senses go off. Brad wanted a kiss and as the captain of your schools basketball team, he might get it.
“He sure did. Which is when Peter and I told him we aren’t playing.” You said through a fake laugh to dilute the uncomfortable situation.
“Oh, my bad. I came over here to kiss you but I didn’t realize you guys were dating.” Brad said apologetically. You and Peter exchanged a look and he gulped.
“We’re not dating.” Peter forced a laughed as well.
“Ohhh. Cool. So I can kiss you?” Brad asked and moved closer. Peter felt white hot jealousy in his veins and looked at you to see what you were gonna do.
“Like I said, not playing.” You laughed awkwardly and moved away from him.
“No sweat. Let me know if you change your mind.” Brad smiled at you and swam back to his friends. Peter blew out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and looked at you. You had your hands over your mouth and wide eyes.
“Oh my God. That was so awkward. I need to get out of here.” You whispered to Peter.
“Let’s go get some food.” Peter suggested. You agreed and got out of the pool together. Peter put a hand on your back and got a towel for you so you could cover yourself when you went inside.
“Uh oh, my Virgin alarm is going off.” Flash said when you and Peter walked into the kitchen where a group of your classmates were. Peter rolled his eyes as Flash walked towards the two of you with his hand flat like a metal detector.
“Beep, beep, beep. I found them. I found the virgins.” Flash gasped as he waved his hand over you and Peter.
“Knock it off, Flash.” Peter grumbled as his face flushed.
“I had to. You two are the only ones not playing.” Flash replied. Everyone looked at you and you suddenly felt insecure for not participating.
“Really? I thought you said other people weren’t playing.” You asked.
“They dipped.” Flash shrugged. “Everyone here is a part of the game. Expect for Chastity Mary and Pete the Prude over here.”
“I’ll play.” You blurted just to make everyone stop staring at you like you were a giant loser. Peter looked at you in confusion and you gave him a stressed look.
“Me too.” Peter nodded to back you up. You didn’t actually want to play, but the peer pressure had gotten to you. That and the fact that this little game might be the perfect excuse to get Peter to kiss you.
“Oh, shit. You’re really playing? In that case…” Flash closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss you with his lips puckered. You picked a strawberry off the table and shoved it in his mouth while Peter laughed.
“Guys, Neds here.” One of the boys in the kitchen gasped.
“NED! NED! NED! NED!” Everyone funneled out of the kitchen in a mob while cheering for Ned.
“Did you know Ned had a cult following?” You asked Peter.
“Kinda. He’s famous around here ever since he got them to reinstate all day breakfast in the dining hall.” Peter explained.
“That was him? Shit, I’d cheer for him too.”
“I should go say hi to him. If he had time for old friends, that is.” Peter joked.
“Y/n, over here!” One of the girls in your grade came over and took your arm. You gave Peter an apologetic look as she pulled you away.
“I’ll catch up with you later!” You told him before disappearing back outside with the girl.
It was almost an hour before you and Peter were reuniting. Now that you were in the competition, Peter could not relax. He was on high alert all night as he tried to spot you in the large crowd. He couldn’t enjoy the party because he was too busy fantasizing about the worst case scenario of you kissing all the popular boys and falling in love with one of them. After you’d been mingling in your respective friend groups for a while, you spotted each other on either side of the pools waterfall. You swam under the waterfall and stayed close to the wall so you were protected by the wall of water but not getting wet.
“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Peter smiled and swam to you.
“Have you?” You smiled in return and swam closer to him.
“I have. The boys started wrestling each other and I wanted to give it a go with you.” Peter joked. You laughed and swam even closer to him so that your chests were touching. A comfortable silence fell between you and the rest of the party fell away. You couldn’t really see or hear anyone outside of the waterfall so it felt like it was just the two of you.
“So have you kissed anyone yet?” Peter asked and held his breath.
“No. People keep asking me but I keep declining. I don’t think I’m winning tonight.” You clicked your tongue.
“Me either.” Peter laughed in relief.
“So you haven’t kissed anyone?”
“No. No one’s asked me.” He admitted.
“So kiss me.” You shrugged and held your breath for his response. Peter turned around and looked behind him but didn’t see anyone.
“Who are you talking to?” He asked you.
“You, you dingus.” You laughed. “I’m asking you.”
“You want to kiss me?” Peter asked in disbelief and pointed to himself. You nodded your head and Peter felt a panic rise in his chest.
“N-no.” Peter weakly stammered.
“No?” You asked as your eyebrows went up.
“Sorry. No, thank you. Is what I meant.” Peter corrected himself.
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” You laughed awkwardly and swam back a little.
“Just because-“
“No, it’s totally cool.” You cut him off. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“I just-“
“I’m gonna go get a drink. See you later?” You smiled at him and quickly swam away. Peter was frozen under the waterfall as he processed what happened. Suddenly, Ned burst under the waterfall with urgency.
“Dude! What the hell was that?” He asked and swam to Peter.
“I panicked! I didn’t think she was gonna ask me that!” Peter whispered harshly.
“Why wouldn’t she? This is a kissing party!”
“Kissing parties aren’t real! That’s not a thing that exists. This is a made up concept. Think of the germs! You haven’t thought of the germs you bitch!” Peter exclaimed. Ned jutted in his back in surprise and Peter felt bad.
“Why are you yelling at me?” Ned whispered.
“Because I just blew my chances with Y/n and I’m angry!” Peter whispered back.
“Well why didn’t you kiss her?”
“Because.” Peter whined. “I don’t want our first kiss to be because of this gross game. I wanted it to be because we wanted it.”
“Dude, she hasn’t kissed a single person tonight. You’re the only one she asked.” Ned pointed out.
“Your tone makes me think you’re leading me to a profound conclusion.”
“Clearly she only agreed to play so she could kiss you. That’s why she’s been saying no to everyone else but asked you. She’s not playing the game. She just wanted to kiss you.” Ned said and smacked Peters chest.
“No. That would mean she likes me. And there’s no way she likes me.” Peter insisted.
“Then why would she agree to play this game if she was gonna say no to everyone but you?”
“Because she’s a silly goose? I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers, Ned. Maybe she was just being a silly little guy.”
“Dude, she’s likes you.” Ned groaned. “And she just shot her shot. And you shot her down.”
“That’s way too many shots.” Peter whispered in fear that Ned was right.
“You need to go smooch that girl before you lose her forever.” Ned told him.
“Oh God. Do you think that will happen? Do you think she’ll kiss somebody else?” Peter gulped and chewed his nails.
“Probably. If I’m right about her liking you, that means she just got rejected and is probably super hurt and embarrassed. She’ll be looking for someone to distract her and remind her that she’s desirable. Plus, I heard Brad and Flash are tied and Y/n is the only girl they haven’t kissed. If they get to her before you do, you’re done.”
“Oh God. I can’t let that happen.”
“You might be a little late for that. Turn around.” Ned looked guilty as he pointed over Peters shoulder. Peter turned to see you and Flash sitting on the edge of the pool together. You were laughing at something he was saying, making Peters stomach drop.
“Oh no! She can’t kiss Flash. I’ve never seen him apply chapstick once in his life. And he licked the back of the bus seat in fifth grade during a game of Truth or Dare so he’s definitely carrying some sort of disease.”
“I remember that. He picked truth and then randomly licked the seat top to bottom.” Ned recalled.
“She can’t kiss that mouth. He has cooties. He can’t give my beloved cooties.” Peter said as determination filled his body.
“You need to do that think football players do when they catch the ball that was thrown at a different player.” Ned told him.
“Interception?”
“No. That’s the show about sitting down your family member who has an addiction and sending them to rehab.” Ned waved his hand.
“That’s Intervention.”
“No, Intervention is the Tom Cruise movie where he goes to space and his daughter is Renesmee from Twilight.”
“For starters, I’m not really sure why you called her Renesmee “from Twilight” as if there is any other character in any other movie with that name, but you also just described the movie Intersteller. Which is with Matthew McConaughey, not Tom Cruise.” Peter corrected him.
“So what movie am I thinking of?” Ned wondered.
“Fuck if I know. I’ll be right back.” Peter said and swam over to you and Flash. He saw Flash starting to lean in and in a panic, grabbed a beach ball and threw it at him.
“Ow. What was that?” Flash looked around once the ball hit him in the head.
“Hey guys. What’s going on?” Peter smoothly slid into the convo.
“Hi, Peter.” You smiled shyly and then looked back at Flash.
“It was Inception.” Ned said suddenly as he joined Peters side. Peter face palmed and you just looked confused.
“What was Inception? What did that mean?” Flash asked in genuine confusion.
“The movie I was thinking of. Inception starring Leonardo DiCaprio. That’s what you have to do to Y/n.” Ned explained. He slowly turned and realized you were sitting right there on the pool edge and smiled sheepishly.
“Oh, hey Y/n. Lovely weather we’re having, no?” Ned asked.
“What about an inception?” You playfully narrowed your eyes at Peter.
“He means interception.” Peter mumbled in embarrassment.
“Intercept what?” You asked as you slipped into the pool to be closer to Peter.
“Your kiss with Flash.” Peter admitted as he looked into your eyes. His big brown eyes were full of guilt and you couldn’t stay mad even if you wanted to.
“Ew. You thought I was gonna kiss Flash?” You laughed. “Not after what he did to that bus seat in fifth grade. No offense, Flash.”
“Was it that bad? It tasted like dry Ramen.” Flash shrugged.
“Who eats dry Ramen?” Ned asked.
“People who question the status quo and reject the suffocating confines of the shell society puts us in.” Flash stated.
“What the fuck are you ever talking about?” You whispered to yourself.
“Who knows? Did I hear Y/n wanted to kiss little old me?” Flash batted his eyelashes and pretended to tuck hair behind his ear.
“No, you didn’t.” You told him.
“Wait, so you didn’t come over here to kiss Flash?” Peter asked you.
“Ew, no. Why would you ever think that?”
“Because you wanted to forget that I rejected you.” Peter said, making your eyes widen.
“You rejected Y/n?” Flash laughed in surprise. “That is an M.Night Shamelan level twist right there. That shocked me more than that one Black Mirror episode where it turns out he was a pedofile after I spent the whole episode feeling bad for him.”
“What are you talking about now?” You whined.
“I actually know what he’s talking about.” Peter admitted. “That episode was crazy.”
“Right? When the mom was like “Kids, Kenny? You were looking at kids?” I nearly threw my phone at my TV. On God. I was rooting for him. And best believe, that is the last time I will ever root for a white man.” Flash shook his head. Everyone in the pool was looking at you guys now and trying to peer into the conversation. There was an awkward silence and even more awkward eye contact before Flash spoke again.
“So why didn’t you want to kiss Y/n?” He asked Peter.
“I was kinda also wondering that.” You admitted and looked at Peter for answers.
“Can we talk somewhere else? In private?” Peter asked you quietly.
“You’re just gonna let me hear that much of the conversation and then leave at the end? Talk about edging.” Flash scoffed.
“Fine. He can hear. In fact, everyone should hear this.” Peter decided and got up on the pool steps.
“Hey, everyone. I have an announcement.” Peter said as he cupped his hands around his mouth.
“I like Y/n. As more than a friend.” He announced as he pointed to you. You smiled in delight while everyone else gave each other the side eye.
“No one gives a shit, Parker.” A boy shouted after a long moment of silence.
“Everybody knew that.” Another girl added.
“Do a flip!” Someone shouted.
“He thinks he’s the main character or something, I swear.” Someone else muttered.
“Oh. I thought that would get a bigger reaction.” Peter frowned and walked back down into the pool to go back to you.
“You like me?” You smiled softly.
“I do. A lot.” Peter admitted with the same soft smile.
“Then why didn’t you kiss me?”
“Because I didn’t want our first kiss to be apart of this stupid game.” Peter told you. “I also wanted to be wearing underwear the first time we kissed. I guess I’m picky.”
“I’m never wearing underwear. Ever. Even when I wear jeans.” Flash said, reminding you that he was there. You turned your entire body to look at him because of how shocked you were by that statement.
“Why not?” You asked him.
“It blocks the flow of my mojo.” He said and pointed to his crotch before moving his hand it and outward flow. You blinked a few times and then turned back to Peter.
“Peter, I only played the game because I wanted to kiss one person. You.” You told him.
“That’s why I started playing. But when you came up to me and asked me, I was so caught off guard that I panicked and said no.”
“Is your guard up now?” You asked him.
“Probably not. Peter could never afford a guard. Get it? Because he’s poor.” Flash said and then laughed at his own joke. Peter rolled his eyes before looking at you again.
“If you asked me again, I’d say yes.” He told you.
“I’m not gonna ask you again. But that’s good to know.” You smiled at him, making his smile drop.
“Y/n, over here.” A girl on the other side of the pool called.
“See you around.” You waved to Peter before swimming to the girl. Peter and Flash stood there in shock as the processed what had happened.
“Dude, that was brutal.” Flash said. “That was worse than the staph infection that hospitalized me after I licked that bus seat.”
“I can’t believe she didn’t ask me.” Peter whispered in disbelief. “And who the fuck keeps saying “Y/n, over here?””
“I can’t believe you rejected her, announced to the whole party that you liked her, and then she rejected you! That’s gold, man. You can’t make this stuff up. Anyways, later loser.” Flash hopped into the pool and started to swim away. He suddenly popped up in front of Peter, this time, with goggles on this time.
“Unless you wanted to play mermaids?” Flash asked him. Peter stared at him for a minute and then nodded.
“I do, actually. Yeah.”
“Amazing. My tail is blue. What’s yours?”
“Please let me be blue.” Peter whined. “I just got rejected by my best friend.”
“Fine. I’ll be orange.” Flash rolled his eyes.
Once the party had started to fizzle out, Peter got out of the pool and went over to where he had left his stuff. You walked over to him and he tensed up.
“Hey.” You said as you approached him.
“Oh, hi.” Peter said cautiously. He had no idea what you were here for after all of the bizarre interactions you had tonight.
“Towel?” You asked and offered him a fresh towel.
“Yeah, thanks.” He accepted it and eyed you skeptically before drying off.
“You should really try to ring your hair out. Chlorine might damage those curls.” You said and nodded towards Peters hair.
“Oh, thanks.” He said and rubbed his towel all over his head. When he was finished, he noticed you staring at him with a fond smile.
“What?” He wondered.
“You missed a spot. Here, let me help.” You said and took the towel. You rubbed it all over his head to dry his hair and then moved it to reveal his face. He was blushing, like always, but had a sad look in his eyes. You let the towel fall to around his neck and then pulled it to bring him closer so you could kiss him.
“Did you really think I was gonna kiss you for the first time with Flash Thompson sitting between us?” You asked once you pulled away.
“So that’s why you didn’t ask me again?” Peter smiled as he connected the dots.
“I’m like you. I wanted it to be special.” You shrugged.
“I think it would be even more special if it happened again.” He replied. You laughed and kissed him again, which he was ready for this time.
“So.” He said once you pulled away. “You still down for that ice cream date?”
“It’s a date.” You nodded and smiled.
“I know. I literally just said that.”
“Don’t ruin the moment, P.” You warned him.
“Fine.” He smiled. “Let’s go on our date.”
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
#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfic#peter parker angst#peter parker x best friend!reader#peter parker imagine#peter parker fluff#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland fluff#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x y/n
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Away
mcu!peter parker x f!reader
Synopsis: Peter wonders why you didn't come over or answer your phone one night, so he decides to talk it out with you in your room.
🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸
Peter slid the window up quietly, climbing onto the ceiling with grace. Dropping onto the floor, he looked around, seeing the room was void of people- one person in particular. His girlfriend, Y/N L/N, should've been in his room.
"Y/N?" He whispered. No response.
He invited you for dinner with him and May, yet, you weren't there. He dropped his suit and changed into a crewneck and jeans.
"May?"
"Oh! Pete, you're back?" May called out from the other room. Her footsteps approached Peter's door.
"Yup," he pursed his lips into a smile and nodded.
"I didn't hear you come in. I must've been deep into the movie I was watching. It's a really good action movie I think you'd like, Pete."
"Yeah, I'll see it with you another time. Uh, did Y/N happen to come here already?"
May furrowed her brows as if she was thinking. "Mmm, no. She was supposed to for dinner, right?"
"Yeah. Maybe something got in the way. I-I'll call her."
"OK, I'll go start on dinner, though."
Peter shut his door, dialing your number. It rang until it hit your voicemail. That worried the high schooler. You usually answered, especially on a night when you two had plans. Except, that was usually- before the past two weeks. You were becoming late to answering texts and calls, but this was the first time you ditched on plans.
He sat on the edge of his bed, his phone and hands on his lap. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how off you'd been acting.
Did he do something? Did you do something?
Maybe he was overthinking. He probably was.
Peter dialed your number once again, listening to it go to voicemail. He shot you a quick text and decided to let the matter rest until you answered.
He lay on his bed, phone at his side, waiting for a buzz. He'd occasionally hear one, yet it was usually for some dumb app.
After ten minutes of lying and thinking, a few knocks were heard at his room door. Peter shot up, hoping it was you. You had just been late, and your phone was dead on the way to his apartment, right?
He groaned and deflated when he saw it was just Aunt May.
"Wow. You're happy to see me," May said facetiously with a chuckle.
"Sorry," Peter shot a guilty smile. "I was hoping it was Y/N."
"Yeah, that's why I'm knocking. She called me and said she wasn't feeling good. Sorry, hun. Update me on how she feels throughout the week."
"Right," Peter nodded. "I will, thanks, May."
"Dinner's ready if you want it."
"I'm actually not very hungry," Peter looked down to the ground. "I'm gonna sleep... long day at school."
"Yeah, get some sleep, sweetie," May nodded with a knowing look, understanding he was upset about you.
***
Spider-Man peered through the window, sticking to the side of your building. He supposed he was being quite creepy, but he desperately wanted to talk to you.
Your blinds were close except for the kink that had always been there. It was mostly dark in your room except for the faint glow of a phone in your bed. He could see your barely illuminated face.
Peter took a deep breath in and knocked lightly at your window. He could see you look up, slightly startled, until you spotted him at the window.
You looked upset at the sight, reluctantly sliding out of your bed to your window. You unlocked the window, bringing it up.
"Peter!" You hissed in a quieter voice. "What are you doing here?" Your face was red up close, and it looked like you'd been crying.
"I- I mean, you weren't replying to your phone, and you didn't come over, so I-"
"So you came to my apartment while my parents are home, and you're in your suit!" You whisper-yelled.
"Well- I- yes," Peter answered in disappointment and shame.
"Peter, you can't be here. Please go."
Peter's heart broke at that. "W-why? I don't get it... I do my best to be a good boyfriend. I thought I did enough?"
You broke down into silent tears. Peter climbed into the room and pulled you into a hug- you embraced it.
"Please, Y/N/N, tell me what's wrong."
"I just-" You say through tears. "My parents say that you barely spend time with me, and they just talk bad about you, and that hurts. A-and the more I thought about it, the more I realized how busy you always are, and the times you aren't out being Spider-Man, you're thinking about Spider-Man work."
"Oh," Peter breathed out. He pulled his mask off, letting it fall to the floor.
"I'd never agree with any of the bad things they said about you- it's just so hard to have your family bash your boyfriend. Sometimes I wonder if they know best."
"I don't know what they said... but I promise I can do better because you're right, and they're right. I haven't given you my all."
"Don't get me wrong- being Spider-Man is so important, and what you do is incredible. I just can't continue a relationship with two different people- it's taking a toll on me. And as much as it pains me... if we need to break up so you can continue being Spider-Man full time, then it's for the best," you choked up more tears. "But I don't wanna break up, Peter."
Peter felt his throat close up. "I don't wanna break up either. I can't ever quit being Spider-Man, but I can be a better Peter. You deserve more, and I'm so sorry. Give me one more chance, and I promise I'll make more time for you."
You hug him tighter. "I trust you. I don't ever want to guilt you, Peter. I'm sorry for pulling away over the past few weeks. I guess it's just been a lot on my mind."
"It's ok. I should be sorry. And, Y/N/N, if you ever need to tell me something important, I promise you can."
You nod. "I know. I guess I thought you'd be upset if you thought I was trying to make you quit your work or break up."
"I would never think that. We're strong- we can make things work."
You chuckle, breaking away from his embrace to sit on your bed. "I'm exhausted now, but at least I feel better."
"I'm glad I came here. I should go, though."
You yawned. "No, don't go. Will you sleep next to me?"
Peter grinned. "What about your parents?"
"Just sneak out before seven."
"Can do," Peter grinned, slipping under the sheets of your bed- wrapping his arms around you as you both drifted off to sleep, knowing things would be okay.
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x fem!reader#mcu peter parker#mcu peter x reader#tom holland#tom holland peter parker#female reader#angst with a happy ending#fanfic#spider man#spiderman#spider-man#x reader#x female reader#peter parker x female reader#marvel mcu#fluff
300 notes
·
View notes
Text
COMING SOON!!!
Mob!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Ballerina Reader
(I do my best to be as non-descriptive as possible, but I do use she / her and mention that reader is a ballerina)
Inspired by the question: Have you ever tried to eat at a restaurant, which happened to be a mafia / mob front, but you didn’t know that, and everyone inside just stared as you walked in because nobody actually eats there?
I FINALLY decided what I want my first piece back to be and I’m so excited shdiznejfns it’s very funny if I do say so myself. Once I got the idea I rushed and typed it on my phone and I already KNOW there are so many spelling errors because I have auto correct turned off and right now it looks like shit hahdndisfn. BUUUUT I just need to give it a quick read through / fix errors on my laptop and we’ll be good to go! Full preview below the cut :)
It had been Bucky’s idea to name the restaurant Tony’s. After their dear friend who had given his life in a war that should’ve never been fought.
It had been Peter’s idea to ‘open a restaurant’. He pointed out that it would be the perfect realistic cover, though Steve argued that they didn’t really need one. Everyone in Brooklyn and the neighboring cities knew who they were, why did they need to put up any sort of front?
In the end, Bucky sided with Peter. They needed a place to talk shop and handle business, and it had to be somewhere that the outside wouldn��t attract any trouble (aka law enforcement). A warehouse was too obvious and was practically begging to be raided. He agreed with Steve, though, in that everyone knew who they were and what their business really was. He pointed out that it was actually a good thing. It would be pretty obvious that the restaurant wasn’t a restaurant, and they wouldn’t attract actual customers. But they’d make it legit, so that they couldn’t be shut down. Like Peter said, they needed a realistic cover.
Within a month, Tony’s was up and running. Running, as in the lights were on during what would be deemed normal business hours. The door was kept locked, but that didn’t matter because as Bucky predicted, no one tried to actually eat there.
Until one day when rehearsal ran nearly 2 hours late. You were tired, exhausted mentally and physically, and you just wanted some comfort food before heading back to your apartment to enjoy the next 2 days off. Still somewhat new to the city, you decided to get off of the subway one stop earlier, and find a restaurant on your way home.
Luckily for you, a neon sign reading TONY’S caught your eye. Unbeknownst to you, there was a meeting going on inside, and someone had forgotten to lock the front entrance.
As you pushed the door open, you had no idea the events that were about to unfold.
💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫
IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED WHEN I POST FOR BUCKY, LET ME KNOW!!
#bucky barnes x you#marvel#mcu#sebastian stan#marvel au#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff#mcu au#steve rogers#peter parker#chris evans#tom holland#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes#mob!steve rogers#mob!peter parker#wip
545 notes
·
View notes
Text
“ twenty–bucks. „
mcu!peter parker x fem!reader.
IN WHICH — the avengers had their theories about you and peter’s secret pining, but it wasn’t until a mission went wrong that they realized how serious it was.
WARNINGS (18+) → mentions of blood/wounds, cursing, angst, fluff, hurt reader.
✨masterlist✨.
2k.
Peter had been counting the minutes since you two started dating. It had been twenty months since you joined the Avengers, seventeen months since he realized how hard he’d fallen for you, nine months since you first kissed, and eight and a half months since you started your relationship.
It were though it all happened yesterday. Everything felt like it happened so fast; yet on the other hand, everything felt like it hadn’t even happened at all.
Tony Stark had scolded Peter about the difficulties of dating an Avenger, and what harm that would do to their reputation, how the government would respond, the amount of paperwork the two of you would have to fill out…blah blah blah.
Despite how often their teammates teased them, or encouraged the other to make a move, you two decided to keep your relationship a secret.
Hiding a relationship from the Avengers wouldn’t be too difficult. At least, that’s what you told him. It certainly added some adrenaline to your dynamic; the secret hand holds under the table at meetings, side–eyed conversations across the room, fucking in the storage closet as quietly as possible, the little things.
You made it all worth the risk. That is, until he remembered what the real risk of dating an Avenger really was.
Peter practically flew off the ground with how fast he ran towards you. His ears rang, deafening him from how quiet the world fell around him as he kept himself focused on your limp figure. The glossing breeze over his suit felt numbing, especially as he tripped and slid on his knees til he was finally able to take you in his arms.
“Baby..” He broke the silence, shaky fingers grazed your arm as he rolled your body over. “Babe, we–” Quick to examine you, his eyes fell wide at the large gash in your abdomen. Blood pooled out through your suit from the glass lodged in your stomach, still poking out of your skin. Peter swallowed thickly, trying to keep himself from panic.
The entire world stopped moving.
His entire world stopped moving.
Everything ran cold.
Peter didn’t know what happened. He didn’t know how he could’ve let this happen. One second, you were assigned to keep watch in the abandoned foyer, and the next? Peter left you for what felt like two seconds to kick a grimy dude’s ass or two, and there you were: unconscious and bleeding out.
“Kid? Squirt?” Tony asked through the earpiece intercoms, referring to both Peter and his unconscious girlfriend. As startling as the sudden voice was, Peter needed it to ground him back to the present. “Do you kids copy?”
It took everything in Peter to keep his lip from quivering. He nearly forgot to answer with how clouded his thoughts were. Cradling you carefully in his arms, he adjusted his grip to fumble over the earpiece. “We need a medic!!” Peter exclaimed, taking in as deep of a breath as he could muster, “Y/N’s unresponsive–”
You laid cold in Peter’s shaky grasp, not moving other than the shuttered lifting and easing of your shoulders with your breath. You were still alive, and Peter tried to cling to that as much as he could. He’d lost too many people. He couldn’t bear to lose you, too.
“Don’t freak out. And don’t touch her wound.” Tony sounded extra stern, which was how he typically expressed panic. It felt like a personal jab at Peter, but he knew better than to interpret it so malicely. “Bruce has your location and is on his way now.”
Peter could barely process the sentence, but all that registered was that help was on the way. He pulled the mask off his face before pulling yours off as well. Vision blurry, he could still make out the cuts that managed to scrape your cheeks.
He pressed his lips to your hairline, holding you gently in his arms. Your skin was cold against his touch, and he treated you as delicately as he could. He knew you weren’t dead, but knowing that you got hurt and he could’ve done something to stop it, he blamed himself. And he didn’t know what else to do besides rock you back and forth while the tears spilt from his eyes.
Footsteps approached behind him, but Peter was too focused on counting your breaths to shift his focus onto them. He kept hold of you, only moving his stare from your tattered face when someone shadowed over the two of you.
Natasha met Peter’s stare for a moment before crouching down to examine your injuries. Her lips pressed into a small line, tensing at how much blood you were losing.
“Do you know what happened?” She broke through the silence — At least, what would’ve been silence if not for Peter’s choked sobs.
He exhaled, shaking his head. “She was– She was keeping watch while I.. While I fought off the–”
Rushed footsteps through the rubble of the warehouse cut Peter off as he and Natasha looked over, Bruce and Steve running in.
Peter felt Natasha snake her arms under you, lifting you out of his grasp with ease. He felt himself panic at your absence.
“W–Wait!” He cried, more intensely than he intended.
The three looked at him, curious at his urgency. They watched as he stood up, finally wiping the tears from his eyes. “I don’t want to, uh- to leave her..”
A small, sympathetic smile touched Bruce’s lips as he nodded. “You don’t have to, but we gotta hurry back to the quinjet.” He started, taking steps back the way he came from, “I don’t have the supplies to treat her right now.”
“Has he eaten today?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” Bruce replied solemnly, “I’m starting to worry about him, Nat.”
As you began to come to, faint murmurs grasped at your attention.
“He’s barely left this room since we got back yesterday. We’re lucky he’s stretching his legs to go find her some blankets.” You recognized Bruce’s voice instantly, though you kept your eyes shut as your consciousness collected itself. “I’ve never seen him so distraught.”
“Y’know..” Natasha spoke up, “He slept here last night.”
You felt your heart break and skip a beat at her words.
There was a pause. “I–I know. He was asleep beside her when I came in this morning.” Bruce mentioned.
You blinked your eyes open, quick to regret it when you were greeted by an overwhelmingly bright light.
“I can feel it, Banner.” Nat chimed, “They’re smitten.” There was a faint song to her words. “I think I caught him kissing her cheek before he left.”
It warmed your spirit to hear how affectionate Peter had been, but you could barely remember what happened, let alone why he’d be so distraught.
Bruce chuckled quietly, “I’m sure Tony will be thrilled to hear that.”
Once your eyes adjusted, you realized you were in the medical wing. Did you hit your head or something? Slowly, you sat up, freezing when the realization hit you.
Your hand flew to your lower stomach, hissing in pain at the wound by your hip. “Jesus.. Fuck!” You muttered, seething through gritted teeth. The pain was quick to shoot through every nerve in your body.
Before you could lay back down, you met eyes with an all too familiar pair as they entered the doorframe.
Peter lit up when he saw you up, rushing over. “You’re awake!” He beamed, quick to set the blankets down at the foot of the bed before he kissed you. He kissed your lips, then your cheeks a few times, then your nose, before pressing a sickly sweet kiss to your lips once more.
His hands cradled your jaw before he pulled back from the kiss, moving his hands to better support you as you laid back down.
“Baby, don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay?” He started, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Peter–”
“God, you scared me so bad.. I thought–” He cut himself off as he rambled, quick to shut down the dreadful thought. “I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up again–”
“Peter–!”
“I should’ve been more careful.. Fuck, I’m so sorry I let that happen to you–”
You gently cupped his face, “Peter!” You spoke a bit more urgently, which seemed to catch his attention. He simply stared at you while you glanced over his right shoulder about four times.
His face flushed red, turning back to meet Natasha and Bruce’s dumbfounded expressions.
They blinked at one another, each unsure of where to start.
Natasha broke the silence, pressing herself off the wall she was leaning on with a small smirk. “I’m gonna go tell Steve that he owes me twenty–bucks.”
Peter opened his mouth to say something, but immediately shut it. He watched Bruce glance at the door Natasha walked out and back at Peter, “I’ll, uh.. Give you two some privacy.”
And then there were two.
His hands slid down his face as you contained your laughter, though it was hard not to. Watching your boyfriend’s face turn red was one of your few guilty pleasures.
“You couldn’t have warned me sooner?” Peter asked as he turned to you, muffling his words under the hands that covered his face. You weren’t sure how long you were out, but you knew you missed seeing how cute he was.
You missed seeing him.
You shrugged, “I tried to.” Despite the secret being out, you couldn’t care less. A small laugh spilled from your lips at how embarrassed Peter was, but it was cut off by how painful it was.
Peter sat on the bed beside you, grabbing your hand. “Easy, now.. It’s still pretty fresh.” He hushed, brushing some of your hair out of your face. His affectionate actions made your heart swell.
While the two of you stared at each other, you couldn’t help but see the solemn look that lingered in his eyes.
You brought the hand that wasn’t intertwined with his up to cup his cheek, gentle as you caressed the new purple creases under his eyes. “Peter..” You started, “I’m safe now. This wasn’t your fault either, okay?”
He looked like he was about to protest, but you were quick to him. “It’s not your fault.” You repeated. You hoped by saying it again, it would stick in his head better.
His stare flickered from one eye to the other before he sighed, defeated as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
You smiled up at him, pecking his lips once or twice. “It’ll take a lot more to get rid of me than some shattered window.”
He laughed quietly, his breath fanning over your lips before he whispered, “God.. I love you.”
“I love you too..” You trailed off as he leaned forward to kiss you again. No matter how long you and Peter had been dating, you never failed to feel butterflies in your stomach when he’d kiss you. It made you feel like you were the only two people on the planet.
“I fucking knew it!” Of course, you weren’t the only two people in the world. You heard someone speak from the doorframe, noticing how Peter immediately added three feet of space between the two of you.
Tony Stark looked between both of you, pointing at your connected handhold on the hospital bed in victory. He had the smuggest smirk you’d ever seen touch his face at the sight of you.
His grin made him look like he’d won the fifth–grade spelling bee. You would’ve never thought that you and Peter’s relationship would make such a grown man so happy.
“I’m going to go tell Steve he owes me twenty–bucks!”
#🐚 .゜・ ˗ˏˋ ☾ ´ˎ˗ 𝕰𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝖂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝕾𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅.#🪷 .゜・ ˗ˏˋ ☾ ´ˎ˗ 𝕭𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒.#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine#peter parker#mcu#marvel#peter parker mcu#marvel imagines#imagine#x reader#tom holland x reader#tom holland#peter parker angst#peter parker fluff#tasm peter#peter parker blurb#fluff
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
would you love me if i were a worm? | peter parker
summary: you ask peter a very, very serious question.
warnings: nothing! (reader goes by rose sometimes... like a pet-name?)
pairing: frat!peter x bimbo reader
word count: 0.7k+ words
a/n: i honestly had so much fun writing intellectual, i wanted to add more to this little bimbo!verse! this trend feels like such a cute, bimbo-y thing, so i put it on here! (in no way is use of "bimbo" meant to be a patriarchal stereotype. please do not take it offensively, this is a work of fiction.)
M.LIST | RULES/REQUESTING | ABOUT ME
you're scrolling through your instagram reels, trying to pass your time. you're snuggled against peter - he's nice and warm - and lazily draped against him.
his arm has lost feeling at this point, but he couldn't care less, he's totally happy with it. being close to and loved by you is the best thing he could ever ask for. peter's lost a lot in his life, but you'll never be one of them.
he has his head laying on top of yours, tapping away at his laptop. peter's been busy with spider-man, to the point where the essay that is due tomorrow completely slipped his mind. he's trying to multitask since he hasn't spent that much time with you lately.
he's struggling, typing with one hand, but it's worth it.
you swipe to the next video using your freshly painted nails (they're a nice shade of pink, topped with a glitter coat). what's playing is a girl talking to her boyfriend; you can't hear the audio, but there a subtitles. the girl poises a very important question:
what would he do if she were a worm? would he love her still?
which leads you to think, what would peter do if you were a worm?
would he still love you?
or would he give you away? throw you into the dirt? would he step on you?
you gasp at the thought, and peter turns to look at you. "you good?" he doesn't look nor sound especially concerned, but the look in his eyes gives it away.
"petey?" you ask, eyes wide and wet.
"yeah, rose?"
"would you still love me if i were a worm?"
he's about to burst into laughter, he really is, but with one more look at you, he realizes that's not a great idea. the way you're looking up at him, expectant and weary, almost like you're afraid of his answer has him rubbing your shoulder, a chuckle slipping out.
if it's even possible, your eyes widen more. "you wouldn't?" eyes glossed over, lips pouted, he wishes he could take that stupid little chuckle back. he doesn't like the way you're tearing up, even if it's for a reason like this.
peter doesn't get fazed by much, he's spider-man, but watching you cry is number one on his list.
peter thinks it a silly question; he'd love you if you were a damn rock.
you're so gorgeous like this (not the crying), he can't help but think. with your hair in soft curls, satin hugging your figure. the curve of your lashes, how you blink up at him.
god, he's so happy he's with you.
"of course i would," peter says quickly, realizing he's been quiet a moment too long.
"really?"
"yeah," by the look on your face, it's not enough. "uh, i'd love you still."
"you'd carry me around with you?"
"sure. i'd figure out how to give you a cute pink bow, we could tie it around your waist- er... around you. and buy you a little dollhouse, you could use the rooms."
peter's committed now, and your eyes aren't welling with tears anymore.
"can it be a, like, pink dollhouse?" you ask, softly, voice moist from tears.
"with glitter," he adds, "and if we can't find a nice enough one for you, that's absolutely perfect... i'll make you one myself."
"oh my god, really?"
"anything for my favorite lady. in fact, i'd get you the finest food too. top notch- top notch whatever-it-is-that-worms-eat food."
peter's so glad none of his frat brothers are seeing this, he would've died of mortification. but here, in this room, where it's just the two of you - peter doesn't have a care in the world.
"and, y'know what? i think i'd even find you a pink little louis-v bag. that's right, my rose." he's spewing facts right now, he'd do all this. well, maybe not the bag. the two dollars in his bank account might not work out great with that.
but you don't have to know that part, it's fine.
"i'd read your, uh- fashion magazines and stuff to you. show you the pictures and everything," he loves the smile you have on right now.
"you'd be the most beautiful worm there is," he finishes.
"awww. i'd love you if i was a worm too," you say, nuzzling your nose against his.
"i've got no doubt, rose."
it's not all a lie though, hypothetical or not. he's made a promise to never leave your side, worm or not.
taglist:
@whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod
#tom holland x reader#tom holland#peter parker#peter parker x you#spiderman#fluff#tom holland x you#peter parker imagine#angst#peter parker x reader#frat!peter x bimbo!reader#frat!peter x reader#frat!peter#peter x bimbo!reader#bimbo!reader
198 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
justanormalfreak
Freak? underestimation
veroniquesboutique
VeroniquesBoutique
hellsite-hall-of-fame
Tumblr Hall Of Fame
jiotaxicab
Jio Taxi
