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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months

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Wasn’t Me

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Synopsis: when Vision accidentally phases through your wall and catches you and Peter in the act, you try to stop it from spreading to everyone in the tower before Tony gets home

Masterlist

“Wait, this isn’t the kitchen.” Vision said as he accidentally phased through the bedroom wall. You and Peter froze at the sound of a third voice and slowly looked up. Every time you snuck off to have some private time with each other, you made sure to lock the door. But despite all your best efforts to keep your relationship a secret, neither of you accounted for Vision coming through the wall. Especially not when you were right in the middle of….something.

“Oh. Hello.” Vision said and gave you and Peter a polite wave. The act he had caught you did not seem to phase him at all while you and Peter were horrified.

“AHHHH.” You and Peter screamed at the same time. You rolled off of Peter and landed right on the floor while Peter grabbed a pillow and placed it over his lap.

“Forgive me for intruding, but I am looking for the kitchen.” She said to meet her in the kitchen.” Vision asked politely.

“Well you’re not gonna find it here!” You exclaimed as you threw your shirt back on.

“Dude! Get out! ” Peter shouted as he hastily tried to zip his pants.

“Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?” Vision genuinely asked.

“YES!” You screamed like it was obvious.

“My apologies. I bid you both a good day.” Vision nodded curtly and disappeared back the way he came. You and Peter stayed in silence for a while as you processed what had happened.

“Do you think he saw us?” Peter asked to break the silence. You sat up from under him and gave him a look.

“Do I think he saw us?” You repeated slowly.

“Well do you?” Peter asked as you climbed back onto the bed.

“Are you kidding me? Of course he saw! The straw was already in the coconut. There’s no way he didn’t realize what was going on.”

“Maybe he thought we were just wrestling?” Peter shrugged weakly.

“Uh huh. Wresting with your dick out. Just like WWE.” You said sarcastically.

“Damn it. He definitely saw us. Do you think he’ll tell anyone?” Peter worried.

“He better not. My dad will kill you. And then vaporize your corpse. And then set the ashes on fire. And then blow them into a shrimp cocktail.”

“But I’m allergic to shellfish.”

“Exactly.” You whispered.

“Oh shit.” Peter gulped. “We need to go find Vision and make sure he doesn’t tell anyone.”

“Let’s go. He’s probably charging or in a bowl of rice or something.” You said and lead Peter out of the room. You went into the kitchen and found Vision at the breakfast table.

“Hey Vision.” Peter smiled awkwardly as you stood beside him.

“Hello, Peter.” Vision said politely.

“So, about the little snafu from before. We just want to make sure you don’t tell anybody about what you saw.”

“Yeah. Because it wasn’t what it looked like.” You added.

“Oh, no? It looked like the two do you were engaging in sexually explicit activity.” Vision replied. You and Peter exchanged a panicked look and tried to think of a way out of this.

“It looked like that, yes, but that’s not what we were doing.” Peter lied as you nodded along.

“Hm. That’s funny. I can detect heart rates and both of you appear to be lying.” Vision said with genuine curiosity.

“We’re not lying, silly.” You forced a laugh. “My heart is racing because I haven’t had any food yet but I drank a bunch of coffee.”

“You know women and their pumpkin spice lattes.” Peter added, earning himself a jab in the side.

“Watch it.” You said through a smile.

“And my heart just beats fast because I have the heart rate of a spider.” Peter added. “No lying here.”

“Oh, I see. But if you two weren’t engaging in sexual activity, what were you doing?” Vision questioned.

“Uhhh…” Peter scratched his head and tried to think of something.

“Peter was just choking on a pretzel and I was getting it out of his throat.” You jumped in.

“With your tongue?” Vision asked.

“Yes?” Peter said weakly.

“With your shirts off?”

“It’s a new technique.” You deadpanned.

“I’m not aware of this technique. Can you demonstrate on me?” Vision asked you.

“Absolutely not.” Peter snapped and stepped between you and Vision. Vision looked at Peter in confusion and you had to jump in again.

“Because it didn’t work.” You explained. “He still choked.”

“He seems fine to me. Although, I am detecting some slight discomfort in the abdomen.” Vision said as he looked Peter up and down.

“I have a tummy ache.” Peter admitted and patted his stomach.

“Would you like me to conduct a physical exam?” Vision asked and held up both his hands.

“No. I probably just have to fart.”

“Oh my God.” You groaned and rubbed your eyes.

“So are we cool? You’re not gonna tell anyone what you saw?” Peter asked Vision.

“We are cool. I will not be telling anyone what I didn’t see.” Vision confirmed.

“Okay. Good.” You sighed in relief.

“Except for Wanda.” He added. “Because I already told her. I tell her everything. I love her quite dearly.”

“Oh my God.” You groaned even louder.

“What did you tell her you saw?” Peter asked him.

“Just you were engaging in-“

“It wasn’t sexual activity!” You exclaimed. “He was choking and I was saving his life.”

“Then why was his penis out?” Vision asked Peter.

“Because…it…was… cold.” Peter said slowly, hating himself with every word.

“Oh my God. Both of you need to stop.” You stated. “Do you think Wanda going to tell anyone about what you thought you saw but didn’t actually see?”

“I’m not sure.” Vision replied. “You’ll have to ask her.”

“Fine. We can ask her.” You sighed and pulled Peter by the hand and brought him to where Wanda was reading on the balcony.

“I don’t want to. She’s scary.” Peter whispered to you.

“We have to talk to her and find out what she knows before she tells my dad.” You whispered back.

“I can whisper too.” Wanda whispered as she suddenly appeared behind the two of you. You both screamed and jumped apart as she laughed. You grabbed Peters hand and ran away, brushing past Natasha as you went.

“They’re a little odd, aren’t they?” Natasha chuckled as she watched you run by.

“They are.” Wanda agreed. “You know, Vision caught them doing it before.”

“What? No way.”

“Yeah. He said he accidentally phased through Peters bedroom wall and caught them.”

“Oh God. Yuck. New fear unlocked. That’s hilarious though.” Natasha laughed at the thought.

“What’s hilarious?” Steve asked as he came into the room.

“Vision caught Y/n and Peter doing it.” Natasha told him.

“What?” Steve laughed. “No way.”

“That’s what I said!” Natasha laughed.

“Honestly, I kinda figured they were doing it. They are the only two in the tower around that age. And lord knows Peter is hornier than an…animal with horns.” Steve said weakly when he couldn’t think of an animal.

“Rhino?” Wanda asked.

“I was thinking Triceratops.” Steve admitted.

“Wait, isn’t there a rule again dating on the team?” Nat asked. “At least, that’s what Tony tells me and Bruce every time we make eye contact.”

“If he had a problem with that, he’s definitely gonna have a rule against one of us dating his daughter. Especially Peter.”

“I thought Peter was a nice boy, no?” Wanda asked.

“He is.” Steve nodded. “But all Tony will see is that he’s a boy who Vision caught with his daughter. He’s gonna blow Peter into a million pieces.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what Vision walked in on.” Wanda mumbled. From across the room, you and Peter were peeking out from behind a wall to watch them all talk.

“This is bad. They’re all laughing and saying our names.” Peter whispered to you.

“Do you think Wanda told?”

“I don’t know. What if she made them all see it with her mind powers?”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she’s evil and not to be trusted!” Peter whispered harshly.

“We just need to talk to her and find out what she knows. Maybe she didn’t even believe Vision.”

“Do we have to?” Peter whined. “What if she enters my mind palace?”

“She wouldn’t find much.” You mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, sweetie.” You patted his cheek and pulled him out from behind the wall. Natasha and Steve had left at that point and Wanda had gone back to her book.

“Hey, Wanda.” You said with an awkward wave.

“Oh. Hello. I haven’t seen you two in forever. What have you been up to?” Wanda said sarcastically.

“Not much. Same soup, just reheated. You know the vibes. So, uh, we just wanted to talk to you about something. Something Vision might have said.” You began.

“Oh. You mean you two swallowing each other alive in Peters room?” Wanda asked. You and Peter exchanged a look and Peter let out a loud gulp.

“Vision doesn’t know what he saw.” You told her.

“Vision is made from the highest form of artificial intelligence. He knows everything.”

“Okay.” You said mockingly. “But he doesn’t know in this specific situation.”

“He’s programmed to access a situation down to every last detail in case there is a threat of danger. And it seemed the only threat of danger in Peters room that day was running out of oxygen. Or maybe a broken pelvis.”

“I’m flattered but I’m not that good.” Peter said humbly.

“He’s right. He isn’t.” You nodded in agreement.

“What was that?” Peter asked you.

“We just want to make sure whatever Vision told you about what he thinks he saw isn’t going to be told to anyone else.” You said to Wanda.

“Now hold on.” Peter tried to go back to what he had heard.

“Secrets safe with me.” Wanda smiled and zipped her lips.

“And me.” Bruce said from behind you. You and Peter whipped around and saw Bruce staring at you while eating a bowl of cereal.

“What?! Were you in here the whole time?” Peter asked.

“Yeah. Wanda, you are funny. How come I never noticed that?” Bruce chuckled.

“I’m not sure.” Wanda shrugged. “You tell me.”

“God damn it. Are either of you going to tell anyone what Vision saw?” You asked and pointed at Wanda and Bruce.

“I thought Vision didn’t see anything?” Wanda smirked.

“Right. Is anyone going to tell my dad about what Vision thinks he saw but definitely didn’t see?” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“Maybe? I don’t understand the question. Can you reword it? Or maybe write it down so I can see it?” Bruce asked.

“Oh my God.” You groaned. “I thought you were the smart one.”

“Ouch. Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being mean to me?” Bruce asked Peter.

“I’m not his girlfriend because we weren’t engaging in sexual activity because we’re not dating. Everyone got that?” You asked angrily.

“Got it.” Wanda nodded.

“No, sorry. Still confused. So you are dating but Vision didn’t catch you guys doing it?” Bruce asked so genuinely that you wanted to scream.

“No, he definitely did.” Wanda snorted. You looked at her in betrayal and she smiled apologetically.

“Oh. Now I get it. You guys are dating and Vision did catch you having sex.” Bruch realized. “But what are we not telling Tony?”

“No one is telling Mr. Stark anything. Everyone just keep your mouth shut about the activities, which may or may not have been sexual in nature, that Vision allegedly walked in on. Okay?” Peter exclaimed.

“My lips are sealed.” Wanda assured you. “Well, now they are. Because I already told Steve and Nat. But that was before you asked me not to tell anyone.”

“Oh my God. Find. Can we trust you?” You asked Bruce.

“I’m not gonna rat. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” Peter nodded. “You’re dismissed.”

“I don’t take orders from you.” Bruce snapped and walked away.

“Jesus Christ.” Peter whispered and felt genuinely offended by the tone. You took his hand and brought him away from Wanda to regroup.

“We need to get ahead of this before anyone else finds out we’re secretly dating.” You told him.

“You guys are secretly dating?” Sam asked as he came into the hallway, making you both jump.

“Damn it!” Peter shouted and hit the wall.

“Oh great. Captain fucking America knows now.” You grumbled.

“Since when are you two a thing?” Sam laughed and looked between you and Peter.

“Two months.” You admitted.

“Two months? And Tony still doesn’t know?”

“Do you think Peter would be alive right now if my dad knew?” You asked and gestured to Peter.

“That’s a joke, right?” Peter laughed nervously.

“I guess not.” Sam shrugged.

“Are you gonna tell my dad?” You asked him.

“No.” Sam replied.

“Cool. Thanks.” You sighed in relief.

“But only if-“

“Mother fucker.” You exclaimed now that there was a new obstacle.

“Only if you promise to never bring up that one time with the TV.” Sam continued.

“You mean when you got caught-“

“Zip it.” Sam cut you off. “Or I’ll tell Daddy Warbucks about your affair with Little Orphan Annie here.”

“This whole conversation has been wildly emasculating.” Peter mumbled.

“I never saw anything.” You told Sam.

“Good.” He nodded. “Then we have a deal.”

You went to shake hands when your phone started to ring. You looked at Peter curiously and pulled it out of your pocket.

“Hang on. Hello?”

“Hey short stack. I’m landing in 20 minutes. I can see that most of the team is in the tower today so I thought we could all have a nice, family dinner in the dining room. How does that sound?” Tony asked you through the phone.

“The entire team? In the dinning room? For dinner? Tonight?” You asked as panic grew in your chest.

“Are you playing a one man game of Clue? Just let everyone know, will you?” Tony asked.

“Sure, daddy. No problem.” You laughed nervously and looked at Peter with wide eyes.

“Thanks, peach. See you soon.” Tony said before having up.

“Shit balls.” You whispered once you were off the phone.

“Was that super good news?” Peter asked hopefully.

“My dad wants the whole team in the dinning room for family dinner.” You said and held your breath for his reaction.

“Son of a…” Peter started to shout and then quieted down, “shart mama.”

“I know. It’s bad.”

“This has gotten so out of hand. I’ve never taken this many L’s in a row. I don’t know if I can take anymore. My body is shutting down. I haven’t peed all day.” Peter said as he paced back and forth.

“Keep it together.” You said as you gripped his shoulders.

“Oh no. This is going to be so awkward.” Sam laughed at your misfortune.

“Why? Because everyone knows we’re secretly dating except for Mr. Stark and they also know Mr. Stark will kill them for knowing and not telling him right away so tonight will be a long, uncomfortable game of who tells him first?” Peter asked all in one breath.

“Yes, that’s exactly why.” Sam nodded and looked at Peter strangely.

“I don’t want to go.” Peter whispered and turned to you.

“We all have to go.” You told him. “He’ll get sus if we’re not all there.”

“But what if your dad kills me?” Peter whined.

“Then I’ll wait at least three months before getting a new boyfriend.” You smiled sweetly and patted his chest.

“You can do that but I’ll just haunt him and kill him in his sleep.” Peter smiled back.

“Oh my God. Come on. We have to go get ready for dinner.” You said and pulled Peter to your room.

30 minutes later, everyone was seated in the dining room with Tony at the head of the table. You and Peter nervously peered through the doorway to see what the set up was.

“What’s our plan?” Peter asked you.

“Sit far away from each other and diverge the conversation every time my dad gets close to happening upon the truth.”

“Okay. How hard can that be? We never get together for family dinner. They’ll all be talking so much that you and I won’t even come up.”

You and Peter took your seats at the table with you next to your dad and Peter further away. You made eye contact with Peter and nodded to let him know that you were in this together. Everyone stayed dead silent as the food was passed around and Tony was quick to notice.

“Why is everyone so quiet? Did Sam leave porn on the big TV again?” Tony asked as he chewed his food. You gulped and looked at Peter in a panic. You had been wrong about everyone talking and keeping the attention away from you. Instead, everyone was silent and tense since they didn’t want to be the one to let Tony know what Vision had seen.

“That was one time.” Sam defended.

“But how could we ever forget?” Tony teased him.

“I just wanted to watch Mama Mia. My eyes were burned.” Bucky said as he shut his eyes to keep out the memory.

“Let it go.” Sam said flatly.

“I don’t remember that.” You said robotically. Sam gave you a discreet thumbs up across the table.

“What? You were the one that found it.” Tony reminded you.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. I think you’re all remembering incorrectly.” You said with no much stiffness it sounded like you were reading from a prompter. Tony looked around the table and everyone avoided eye contact with him. They mindlessly pushed their food around their plates to look busy so that Tony wouldn’t ask them anything.

“Why is everyone acting weird?” Tony asked.

“What? We’re not. You’re being weird, dad.” You forced a laugh and patted Tony’s arm.

“Right.” Tony said skeptically. “So, Pete the treat. Any romantic interests at school?”

Everyone turned to stare at Peter, who was in the middle of taking a sip from his glass. Peter started choking on his water for a long time. No one made any effort to help Peter so he just sat there choking for an uncomfortably long period of time. Everyone stayed silent as he Peter coughed, turned red, and clapped his chest to try and get the water out. When he was finally done, he was crying and bright red.

“What?” Peter asked horsely.

“Peter doesn’t want to talk about girls, dad.” You laughed nervously. Everyone exchanged looks while also sneaking glances at you and Peter.

“He does with me. Come on. My dad never bothered with this stuff and I want to break the cycle. Tell me about your love life.” Tony insisted and playfully patted the table. You shot daggers at Peter and everyone turned to look at him. Peter felt sweat dripping down his forehead and smiled nervously.

“There’s no one, Mr. Stark. No girls.”

“I don’t buy that for a second. I can see the hormones brewing in your eyes. You’re sweating just at the thought of her. I know there’s a girl.”

“Maybe.” Peter squeaked out.

“See? I knew it. Tell me about her. She cute?” Tony asked. Peter looked at you for a brief second and quickly looked away.

“Yeah, yeah. She’s gorgeous. Really pretty.”

“She’s all right.” Sam shrugged, making everyone stifle a laugh as your jaw dropped.

“Fuck did you just say?” Peter snapped.

“I was kidding. Damn.” Sam held up his hands in defense.

“Damn, indeed.” Tony laughed. “Way to stand up for your girl, kid. She’s a lucky lady.”

“Thank you, sir.” Peter said and hoped that was the end of the conversation.

“You really are a good kid, Peter. I don’t tell you enough. I was just saying this to Pepper the other day, but if anyone is ever brave enough to try and date my daughter, I hope they’re like you.” Tony said sincerely. This time, you started choking as everyone murmured with amusement.

“Really?” Peter asked hopefully. He looked at you but you didn’t dare make eye contact.

“Yeah. Sure, you’re pretty annoying and way too eager at times, but you’re a good kid. You’re responsible, you care about other people, and you know how to get a decent haircut.” Tony continued.

“So you’d give Peter your blessing? If he and I ever wanted to date?” You asked skeptically.

“Absolutely not.” Tom said immediately.

“What?” Your face dropped. “But you just said-“

“I said I hope the person you date is like Peter.” Tony specified. “But Peter would never be allowed to date you.”

“Why not?” Peter asked and you shot him a look. Everyone else kept their heads down and turned away from Tony so he wouldn’t suspect anything.

“Not that I care. Psh. Peter is lame. I would never date Peter. Haha. But yeah, why not?” You asked your dad.

“Because he’s a superhero. And no daughter of mine is dating a superhero.”

“But you’re a superhero.” You pointed out. “And mom married you.”

“I know. That’s why I’d never allow you to go down the same path. I’ve missed hundreds dates, thousands of calls, and a million important moments because I was off being a superhero. I was saving the world but I was hurting the person I love most in the process. I don’t want that life for you. If Peter was an average guy off the street, I’d be thrilled to know you were dating him. But Peter isn’t average.”

“I know that.” You replied, starting to get annoyed now that your dad was trying to tell you that you couldn’t do something. You were already doing it, but he didn’t need to know that. He needed to know that he couldn’t make your choices for you.

“Ayo. Yeah she does.” Sam snorted. Everyone gasped and looked at him, making him freeze. You and Peter stared daggers at Sam who smiled sheepishly.

“Oops?”

“You little bitch.” You mouthed across the table at him. Tom noticed the way everyone reacted and grew suspicious. He looked at you and noticed you weren’t making eye contact. He then looked at Peter, who looked like he was about to pass out.

“What was that?” Tony asked Sam.

“Nothing.” Sam scoffed and went back to eating.

“Samuel. Tell me what you just said.” Tony said with an eerily calm smile.

“I don’t want to.” Sam whispered.

“Tell me or I will shove your wings so far up your ass-“

“I said she knows Peter isn’t average.” Sam admitted before Tony could finish his sentence. You buried your face in your hands while Peter chewed off all of his fingernails.

“What does that mean?” Tony asked and turned to you.

“I can confirm that as well.” Vision raised his finger as he spoke up. You and Peter looked at Vision in betrayal while everyone else stayed silent.

“Oh my God.” You whispered and rubbed your face.

“What? What’s the big red giant talking about?” Tony asked you again, sounding angry this time. Before you had a chance to think of something, Vision spoke up.

“I’m talking about how I accidentally caught them fornicating earlier today, sir. Also, am I required to be here? I can’t actually eat food.” Vision said politely. Everyone was dead silent as Tony processed what he was hearing. No one dared to look up from their plates or even move a muscle.

“You know what? Vision is right. We should actually all leave. And never return. Bye!” You said and got up from the table. Tony grabbed the back of your shirt and made you sit back down.

“Nobody move.” He said in a low voice. Silence fell over the table again as Tony slowly looked to Peter. That’s when he noticed that Peter had passed out and had his limp head in his dinner plate.

“Wake the son of a bitch up.” Tony ordered. Wanda lifted Peters head by his hair and a green bean stuck to his cheek and forehead.

“Peter?” Tony asked, but Peter didn’t wake up. Wanda shook him, then took his pulse to see if he was even alive.

“He’s unresponsive.” She reported.

“Jesus Christ.” You groaned to yourself as you watched Wanda and Steve try to wake Peter up.

“He peed his pants.” Steve announced, making you groan even louder.

“PETER!” Tony shouted as he banged on the table. Peter woke up and looked around in confusion. Tony slowly stood up and leaned over the table while staring daggers at Peter.

“Somebody tell me what’s going on.” Tony demanded. No one said anything, so you bit the bullet and stood up as well.

“Dad, Peter and I are dating. Vision caught us before and the whole team found out about it. That’s what’s going on, okay? Please, don’t kill my boyfriend.”

“What?” Tony asked as he slumped back in his seat. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or upset, but it was definitely not good.

“Sam was watching porn on the big screen!” You blurted and pointed to Sam.

“You said you didn’t see anything!” Sam pointed back at you.

“That was before you didn’t hold up your end of the deal!” You shouted.

“Shut up, both of you. Are you kidding me right now? You’re dating Peter Parker?” Tony asked in a calmer voice.

“Yes, daddy. I am. I have been for two months. We didn’t tell you because we knew you’d be mad and we just wanted some time together before you forced us apart. I wouldn’t normally lie to you like this but I knew you’d never allow us to be together and I love him. I just needed to love him for as long as I could before the world knew. I’m sorry. Please, don’t be mad at me.” You said as you took your dads hands. Tony stared at you for a long time and finally, put his hand on your cheek.

“I could never be mad at you, princess.” Tony said kindly. You smiled in surprise as Peter let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m gonna turn Peter inside out, though.” Tony said sweetly before lunging at Peter. He punched Peter right in the throat, making Peter collapse to the ground. You rushed to Peters side as Tony shook out his hand.

“Dad! You can’t hit him that hard. He’s only 5’8. He could’ve died.” You yelled at Tony as you pulled Peters head into your lap.

“That didn’t even hurt.” Peter wheezed out as he clutched his throat. Tony wound up to hit Peter again, but stopped when he saw something that surprised him. He watched Peter reached up and touch your face as he whispered to you that everything was going to be all right. He thought he had just been punched in the throat and was awaiting the punishment of a lifetime, his priority was to comfort you when you were upset. Tony then knelt down beside Peter and helped him sit up.

“I’m sorry, kid. I should not have hit you. It was a slight overreaction.” Tony sincerely apologized.

“Slight?” Peter croaked out.

“I just wasn’t expecting to come home to this news. But if it’s been two months and my daughter says she’s this in love, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.”

“Mr. Stark, I know it’s probably hard to think about your daughter dating someone with a life as unpredictable as ours, but I don’t put anything above her. If I’m out on patrol, chances are, she’s hanging out on a rooftop with a walkie talkie telling me where to go. If I have to miss a date to take care of something, I take her with me. She’s my partner in all of this. I don’t leave her waiting around for a text back all night. She comes first.”

“Actually, “Vision began, “when I entered your room, it seemed as though Peter was going-“

“Do not finish that sentence, jumbo tampon.” You cut him off.

“You can trust me, Mr. Stark. You can trust us.” Peter said as he wrapped an arm around you. Tony looked between the two of you for a while but didn’t say anything.

“Please, daddy.” You whispered. Tony finally caved and smiled softly.

“Okay. You’ve convinced me. I’m not gonna kill Peter. You have my blessing, underoos.” Tony said as he helped Peter off the floor.

“Really? You’re not gonna force us apart?” You asked hopefully as you wrapped your arm around Peters.

“I’m not.” Tony confirmed. “You’re old enough to make your own decisions. But if he breaks your heart, he’s getting turned inside out. At least for a day. I cannot compromise on that.”

“Deal!” You clapped your hands before hugging your dad.

“Hold up, do I get a say in that deal?” Peter questioned.

“Don’t push your luck, kid. After what Vision walked in on you doing with Tony’s kid, you’re lucky to be alive right now.” Bruce said as he patted Peter on the back. Tony frowned as he pulled out of the hug.

“Hold on, what exactly did Vision walk in on?” Tony asked. Peter motioned for everyone to keep their mouths shut as Tony looked around the room. When no one answered him, he looked at you expectingly.

“So.” You laughed nervously. “Dessert, anyone?”

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ohcaptains · 2 months

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𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

college! peter parker x fem reader.

18+ only !!! f! receiving oral sex. peter parker has an oral fixation i said what i said. in my spider-man era again.

peter was a weekly visitor at this point. sometimes, it was twice, but never more than three. three was pushing it.

Three said that Peter meant something to you, and you couldn’t have that. No, whatever this was between the pair of you was strictly transactional. It was Peter texting you late at night, the classic, you up? Gracing your screen, and every time, you would pretend to be annoyed.

As if Peter coming around to give you the greatest head of your life was an inconvenience. Tempted, the devil on your shoulder smirking, to type back, Jesus, again? but never doing it. Instead, you wrote: sure.

Still, it plagued your mind. He never asked for anything else.

It was as if he did this purely for himself.

“Oh fuck,” you mewled, clenching down tight. The hand that was wrapped around Peter’s brown curls clutched and tugged, and the unconscious movement earned you a chastised groan. It rumbled through your cunt, and the echo shot to your clit, making you close your eyes and lean back, wet mouth spilling his name into your dorm.

Peter liked hearing you.

Liked seeing you lose your mind with his head between your thighs, your pussy wet and throbbing from his mouth and fingers. It’s why he came around often. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even text, would just knock on your door -- looking sheepish from under his dark curls -- and just. Not. Say. Anything.

His silence was answer enough. You knew what he wanted. Or, needed, as you later figured out, as you saw how red he’d gotten when you told him he couldn’t come around for a bit. When you said something about focusing on exams, he’d come over anyway, whined, shuffled his feet and said, You can do your work, I just gotta…I’ll be quick.

The lack of explanation made your mind swirl. But regardless, you’d let him in and did your work with his head between your thighs. He’d tutored you, too, told you how to solve for x with his fingers inside of you. He’d said, if you let me make you come again, I’ll do your Maths work for the next week. After he’d left, you stared at the scene of the crime in pure silence.

Just…reflecting.

Peter fluttered his tongue over your swollen clit. Focused on swirling it around his tongue in sloppy, wet circles, and the thick desire that swelled between your thighs began to pool at your lower back, forcing you to arch up into it.

“Please,” you wept, even though he was giving you what you wanted. Flat on your back with his deft grip keeping your bare thighs open. It was 8 pm. He’d caught you just after your shower, so the smell of your shampoo and body wash wafted through the air – Lavender and pear.

Peter had spread you open and said you smelled like spring. You’d been far too turned on to comment on it. He grumbled into your cunt, and you managed to work out the word, more? You hummed, too drunk on him and wound tight to verbalise that yes, you wanted more. Wanted him to make you come, and come again, till all you could do was mumble his name and focus on your breathing.

He'd learnt how you liked it. Paid attention, and he was getting full scores as he pushed his tongue flat against your swollen clit and sucked. Your vision went white.

“Oh fuck – ohfuck, Peter—” you squirmed, but Peter was strong, and he held you to the bed with his vice-like grip, wordlessly saying take it take it take it.

He lapped at you, salvia drooling over your cunt and down his chin, soaking the sheets. He was always so careless. In moments like this, that nervous edge that always fluttered around him was gone, replaced by a visceral drive to either please you, or get what he wanted.

The two bled into each other.

His tempo was leisurely, but that didn’t stop the heat from washing over you all at once.

You clamped your thighs around his ears and moaned -- loud, so loud that you were sure the other students on your floor heard.

Still, the ache was erratic, “So good,” you sobbed, and you heard yourself, heard the near primal need in your voice, and the desperation made you embarrassed, made you cover your mouth with your palm and grip the sheets, willing yourself to cool it.

“Move your hand, or I’ll stop,” he uttered against you, and your clit was so sore that the echo of his words made your eyes roll back. Peter must have seen, as he hummed a laugh, and kissed your inner thigh, “lemme hear you.”

Managing to gain some sense of sanity, you blearily blinked down at him, but all sense of stability you thought you had was wiped away when you saw Peter had his hand stuffed down his pants.

You dropped back onto the bed and sobbed.

You knew he got off on this, but Jesus Christ, you’d never seen that before.

“Gotta be kidding me,” you breathed, and Peter must have understood what you were referencing, as he buried his reddening face into your inner thigh. He let out a breathy chuckle, “’ M’sorry,” he mumbled, “usually I wait till I get home, but you’re just so hot.”

You had to stay completely still, or you’d burst. Usually, I wait till I get home?

Peter moved his face and began nuzzling the wet folds of your pussy. He bumped his nose against your clit, and you quietly choked.

Peter hummed, “couldn’t help myself.”

You figured he did something like that, but the admission made your thighs tense. You pictured him stumbling home – cheeks still wet with you – and tugging his pants down, quickly shoving his hands into his boxers and taking hold of his aching cock. Did he whimper when he came? Or was he silent, all tremors and low grunts? No. He definitely whimpered.

He was far too pretty to stay quiet.

The sudden desire to kiss him swept over you.

Reaching down, you tugged at his curls, wordlessly motioning him to move. When he did, you briefly saw the red of his cheeks and wet of his nose before you kissed him, all tongue, and tasted yourself on his pink lips.

Peter melted into you. Huffed your name like a sigh, and the sheer tenderness of it had you wrapping your legs around his back and pressing your bare cunt against his jeans.

He was rock-hard. Tentatively, you ran your nails over his chest, and dipped low, pressing between his thighs, cupping his bulge, and gently squeezing. Peter wept.

“Oh fuck,” he sobbed, as desperate as you imagined. With one hand in his hair and the other on his cock, you continued to kiss him, until the ache between your thighs became too much to bear.

“Make me come,” you whispered, “and I’ll put you in my mouth.”

Peter had never moved so fast in his life.

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webslingingslasher · 2 months

Text

Begin Again

an: this has been a long time in the making and I think it's a favorite of mine.

Pairing: Peter Parker X Mean!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers.

CW: harsh language, mental breakdowns, mentions of cheating (not peter)

Word Count: 24K

Summary: You've lived next door to Peter your whole life and the last nine years you've detested him. Now you're going through a breakup and it's nice to know someone's awake with you. Even if it is Peter Parker.

Breakups suck.

That’s it. That’s the whole message. There’s nothing else to add, except you’d never let yourself love again. It’s not like you didn’t know it wasn’t going to happen, you were aware the entire year what it would lead into, but hasn’t every girl sworn, at least once, they were the exception to a boys rule?

Natalie Greene’s voice echoed in your mind, “don’t get involved with a senior boy. They move on and you’re left picking up the pieces in homeroom.” You didn’t listen. You got involved and it was a good year, you knew he was going to college and when he left the break up was inevitable. Still, it didn’t hurt as hard until three months into the school year he called and said he met someone else.

You wish you weren’t so kind and understanding to him.

You called Natalie Greene the second it ended, she picked up and that angel voice of hers shined through the phone. She asked ‘hello?’ three times before you sobbed. You could feel the empathy in her tone, ‘he ended it, huh?’ All you could do is squeak back, ‘stay right there babe, I’m on my way with the break up kit.’

She showed up with a stray grocery bag. “alright,” she stated, hands on her hips.

“I got ice cream, a super soft blanket, movies - of all genres, face masks, a lighter-”

“Why do you have a lighter?”

Natalie rolls her eyes with a goofy grin, “to burn stuff, duh.“

The gesture was nice, but you couldn’t focus on the movie.

It felt like everytime you blinked there were tears that would find themselves tracking down your cheeks, you sniffled occasionally and blankly stared at the screen; flashbacks clouding your mind. Each kiss, each laugh, each touch, every fight and makeup, the first time you felt someone's hips melt into yours.

A supercut of every moment.

You were replaying a thousand things and all he was thinking about was the new girl under him, you were angry at everything all at once. Angry at yourself for letting yourself get hurt and feeling this much pain, because you knew it was coming, it was the whole agreement when it started. Angry at him for not breaking his promise and loving you anyway, angry at him for not telling you he’d wait for you and everything would be okay.

Angry that you hate him and yourself but more angry how quickly you’d fall back into him if he called.

“I knew this was gonna happen, Nat.” You sniff, a cry bubbles from your throat, “so why does it hurt so bad?”

Your friend frowns, she’s no savor to heartbreak. She’s been where you are more times than one could take, she still loves with her whole heart and you don’t know if you could ever do it again. Natalie wraps her arms around your shoulders while you shake with a sob, you cry into her knowing you're matting her blonde hair but she just pats you and holds you close.

“Because even though the ending was coming it didn’t feel real until the book closed. And maybe a little bit because you hoped he’d change his mind.”

You gasp, “how do I get past this? Nat, it feels..”

You’re tugged into her so tight you can feel her collarbone against your cheek, “like you’re dying? Yeah, that happens. But, you’ll live. It doesn’t feel like it now, but the day will come where you can think about him, smile, and thank him for the opportunity.”

You snort, “for breaking my heart?”

Natalie Greene holds you as tight as she can, “for making you grow.”

Your shoulders feel like they’re falling behind you as you inch along the hallway, everything feels heavy. Your feet are like lead blocks, and your heart feels like it’s been tied down with an anchor. It hurts more to know he’s not aching like this, he has someone new to keep him busy.

Blinking at your locker you fight back a yawn, two weeks after heartbreak and it still feels the same. You sleep like shit, tossing and turning and weird dreams when you finally dozed off. The one thing that’s helped keep your mind away from him, was your neighbor. Every night, at 3:02 am, on the dot, you hear the same movements.

A window slams shut, two soft hops on the floor and three bumps against the wall.

For six nights straight you kept count, it was methodical. A nightly routine, you weren’t sure what he was doing, but it was something. It made your mind wonder, your most recent theory was that he was a smoker; weed, cigarettes or whatever, and he would blow smoke out his window before landing in bed.

Maybe his bed was against your wall and that’s why you heard so many small knocks.

Last night you stayed up, you waited and right on the minute, like you expected, you heard a window slam shut. A small grin crossed your face, not at him, but at the idea of a constant. You lost your reliable figure, he’s thousands of miles away with his own new person, but tonight, and for the last seven nights you’ve had something to rely on. Something that couldn’t go anywhere.

You blink and suddenly you’re staring at your open locker, you don’t even remember putting in the combination. On autopilot you grab what you need for your next three classes and shrug your backpack down. Lately, it seemed like everything moved in slow motion.

“Are we ready to go to Flash’s party friday and makeout with a rando or are we still numb to everything?”

Natalie smiles at your figure, when you slouch and give her a “hey, Nat,” her blonde hair bounces as she nods her head understandingly, “still dead to the world, understandable.”

“At this point I’d do heroin to feel something,” your deadstare makes her think you might be serious. “Tell you what, if you’re still this miserable in six weeks, we’ll do it together.”

Your eyebrow quirks, “you’d do heroin with me if I’m still this miserable?”

Natalie Greene’s hand sticks out, her eyes ferocious. You know immediately she has something up her sleeve.

“Six weeks, starting today.”

You have nothing else to go on except the nightly wake up call and Natalie Greene’s plan.

“Six weeks.”

It’s solidified with a handshake, your fingertips turn white in her hold.

WEEK ONE.

Natalie Greene had talked you into going to Flash’s party, not to makeout with anyone, she quickly withdrew that from the table. You had been very hesitant at first, pushing at every restraint and reason to why you shouldn’t go and she stopped you right there. Manicured hand and all, petite and poised, she stopped your path.

“Here’s why you should go: get fucking wrecked, absolutely smashed and let it all out. I promise you, babe, it feels so, so good.”

“You think that will make me feel better? Getting hammered at a house party on a friday night?”

“I’ll take care of you for the night, okay? I’ll get you drunk and you can cry or scream or whatever you want. Let go of anything you’re holding back, that’s why you should go.”

You look her over, she’s been your rock the last three years in the school. Natalie is different, she protects and cares for herself like she does someone else. She also gives out more of her heart than she should, but she appreciates the burn it leaves. She tells you it’s one more ache preparing her for the one who would never make it hurt again.

If Natalie Greene says it’ll help, you’ll listen.

“You’ll drive me home and take care of me the next morning? Hungover and all?”

A denim jacket covered shoulder shrugs, “I think it’s time I repay you for all these years.”

For the first time in two weeks a real smile crosses your face, it’s small but it’s there.

Flashforward two days later, you’re eight drinks in and feeling like you’re flying.

You sway against your friend, “and he,” you hiccup, “he said he was like, soooo in love with me but then like, fuckin four days later,” it took you a moment to hold up the correct number on your hand, “boom, no boyfriend.” Natalie tried to hold back a laugh but her cheeks blew up when she let it escape, you pulled the most comical ‘what the fuck?’ face.

“I mean who the fuck does that- a sick person. That’s who! And- And you know what?” you hiccup, “I thought I’d be sad, but I just kinda hate him, does that make me bad?”

“Nah, I had some that killed me inside and some that I just shrugged off. Some moved in waves. One minute I’d say ‘fuck him!’ and the next I’d be overwhelmed with sadness because I didn’t have anyone to hold me anymore.”

You blink at her words and swallow the rest of your cup, you hadn’t thought about that part yet. Not having anyone to call yours anymore, that’s the hardest hitting part. You really, really wanted to call him. Just one more time, maybe he misses you just as much, maybe he doesn’t know how to say sorry, maybe he’s waiting for you to call.

“I should call him, right?” Your hands fumble at your pockets, your friend panics and grabs at your arms. “No! No, no, no! You absolutely should not call him!” You whine, “but what if he-”

Natalie grabs you tight, it makes you look at her confused. Her tone takes a sharp turn, she breaks through your drunken stupor in a second.

“He’s not. He’s not thinking about you, he’s not missing you, he’s not sitting around wishing you’d call him, he’s just not. He broke up with you, you don’t do that if you still care. Don’t do that to yourself, it ended mature. You have to be mature now.”

Brutal honesty. It puts everything in perspective.

He didn’t miss you, and that… really, really hurt.

Natalie was right, it comes in waves. Because there comes that sadness, it starts with small blinks and suddenly fat tears skip down your cheeks. “You’re right! He, he doesn’t-” you take harsh breaths, for the first time in two weeks you had a full breakdown. Everything you held back bottled over, you didn’t know how you could hold in so much hurt.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go, we can cry in the car but not here.”

Your breath shook the entire way to the car, the moment you sat in the passenger seat you cried. Your voice cracked, “he said he loved me!” Natalie nodded, cranking the engine, “And I’m sure he did, babe. Sometimes these things run their course and it’s no one's fault.”

It went like that the entire car ride, until she stopped at a McDonald's and got you a milkshake so you could focus on getting the liquid up the straw instead of saying the same three things on a loop. Once you got fries in your mouth the thought of him was erased from your mind, choosing to sing loudly and stick your head out the window on the way back.

Stumbling and giggling quietly at the late hour while you swayed on the walk to your door, you stretched freely and yawned when you stumbled in. Home alone for the weekend, just how it should be. “I’m getting naked,” you started stripping while walking to your room to change into pajamas, your heart lurches when you see one of his shirts.

You flop backwards on your bed, the room slightly spins and you close your eyes tight trying to ground yourself. Wriggling into the sheets you sigh, and yawn again. Your head buries into a pillow and sleep is imminent.

“Sleepy?”

Natalie Greene stands in the doorway with water and some advil, you smile and pat your bed, inviting her to join.

“Natalie Greene, you are so great, did you know that?”

Your friend laughs, you nuzzle into her hand while she strokes your hair, “I did, but a reminder is always nice. Go to sleep, babe. I’ll make toast in the morning.”

Her gentle touch makes it easy, you yawn one more time. Your voice flutters while you talk into sleep.

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything,” she whispers. You don’t think he ever loved you this soft.

“Make sure he gets home for me.”

Natalie Greene asked who but all she received were soft snores.

The birds were screaming the earth back awake.

At least that’s how it felt, your ears were ringing and there was a dull, present thud in your head. The sunlight has never been so bright, you hold your eyes shut but the ache gets louder and you can’t get comfortable.

There’s two pills and half a glass of water waiting for you, god bless Natalie Greene.

“Good morning, sunshine!” You wince and choke on your gulp of water, a knife has pierced your eardrum. “Oh my god, everything is on dial eleven, I think I’m dying.”

“How are you feeling? Besides the obvious, I mean.”

She means about him, you take a moment to really think about it.

“I think… I think I’m doing okay.”

Your friend smiles and throws her hair into a ponytail, “good, I’m making breakfast. Come join.”

After ten minutes and infinite pep talk you rise on shaky knees, stumbling towards your door and barely making it to the couch where you spread wide and gulped for air. Your friend snorted at your exaggeration over her shoulder and carefully walked towards you with a piping mug of tea.

Sitting up you bring a blanket over your shoulders, you squint at her before taking the handle. Taking a sip while you turn the TV on, searching for a midmorning throwaway show. A re-run of The Wendy Williams Show wins, you rest your head on a cushion and stare blankly at the screen. Natalie Greene humming up a tune in the kitchen.

You hadn’t even checked your phone yet, “what time is it?”

“Noon thirty.”

Your eyes widen, “my god,” you mumble to yourself.

Listening to Wendy your eyes lull shut and suddenly you're sinking back into sleep, you roll over and smack your dry lips. Until your friend is kicking at your shin with two plates in her hands, stacked full of the breakfast nines.

Your queasy stomach grumbles and any drowsiness is ripped away with hunger. Nearly drooling, you stuff a piece of french toast in your mouth and moan, “Nat, you’re the greatest thing I got.” She bounces her shoulder into yours, “I know.”

You fall into silence while you scarf breakfast down, booing and applauding when deemed necessary by Wendy. Leaning back you rest your hands over your full belly and pat gently. Swiping your tongue over your gums for any crumbs, you sigh happily.

“Hey, what did you mean last night? You said to let you know if he got home safely.”

You wave her off, “drunk stupidness, I hear my neighbor every night around the same time moving around. This last week, I dunno, it felt nice knowing someone else was up too?”

“Have you ever-”

Both your necks turn to look at the front door then back at each other, the knocking that caught your attention continues.

“Who’s-”

“Did you-”

You swallow and stand up, not so shaky anymore. Looking through the peephole your forehead hits the door at the sight of said neighbor, you know what they say about devils and appearing, groaning you take a moment to collect yourself and open the door.

“What do you want, penis?”

Peter Parker in all his glory, is knocking at your door with a plate of… cookies?

Neighbors forever, close pals never. You’d played together as kids, mostly elementary age but since you were eight you’ve had a disdain for Peter Parker. You’re not sure where it went wrong, but just looking at him you wanted to roll your eyes.

“I was going to say, ‘wow, how could a guy ever dump you?’ but now, I’d say that’s how.”

Normally that wouldn’t hurt, but the recent circumstances made it a cheap shot.

“Is this your sorry attempt to be a rebound? Because if it is, I want to make it extremely clear I’d rather eat glass than-”

The plate is shoved into your face, “May had me bring these over, she said your mom told her you’ve been a weepy, miserable mess because some dickhead thought he found someone better.”

You huff at him, your fingers wrap around his wristwatch as you pull it down, all you heard was weepy and miserable.

“I know you wouldn’t know anything about someone loving you but-”

“Is that Peter B. Parker?”

Natalie Greene reminds you of your hangover in record timing, you wince at her shriek. Peter gives a polite, dare you say charming (?) smile. It makes you fight back a gag, “hello, Natalie Greene.” Her eyes flash from his, to the plate, to the cracked open door across the hall and she gets a wicked grin.

The person you’ve hated and bickered with the most is suddenly the one you listen out for in the middle of the night. The look on her face, the glance she shared with you, proved she knew.

“Cookies?” Natalie nudges your arm, “he brought cookies and he’s right across the hallway, how nice.”

Peter’s oblivious to her tone, he has his goofy smile on and it makes you seeth. He’s always so god damn happy, it’s annoying.

“Well, actually, my aunt made them. But I am delivering, so I can accept some praise.”

She laughs, full on cackles and nudges you again.

“You know, in all the times you talked about Peter you never mentioned how funny he was!”

You don’t know what she’s playing at but you’re shutting it down immediately.

Peter looks at you, he seems almost hopeful and you have to settle the urge to toss the plate to the ground. “You talk about me?”

You cross your arms and sneer, “don’t worry, nothing good.”

His smile drops, “yeah, sorry. I don’t know why..” his curls bounce as he gently shakes his head before pushing the glass into your chest. “Here, eat as many as it takes to feel somewhat okay again.”

You grip the plate and look down, they’re your favorite.

“We, um. We have more over here, so if you want more. Or if you wanna hang out or something I’m here, so…”

Peter’s never been a friend like this before and it was some pity party you wanted no part of now.

“It’s a breakup. I’m sure I can manage without you just fine.”

His eyebrows turn in, “right. I just thought- nevermind, enjoy the cookies.”

Natalie gives him a sympathetic frown and sulks back inside, you keep your glare on his figure until he reaches his door. As you’re about to retreat he stops in the doorway, “for what it’s worth, I think he’s stupid and he’s gonna realize what he lost when it’s way too late.”

It’s almost nice, sometimes it sucks when the person you’re supposed to hate has human peek through their armor.

Too bad you’re more guarded than ever.

“Well, then. It’s a good thing you’re not worth much.”

Maybe it’s his resilience that troubles you, no matter how hard you push him away or beat him down with words he’ll pick himself back up and hand your words back in a package of self reflection.

Today is no exception, Peter flashes you a sad smile, this one actually is filled with pity.

“I’m sorry you’re hurting,” you didn’t have a chance to fire back. His door was already shut.

Heartache throbbed but the cookies were damn good.

On your third, you down half a cup of milk. You reach for a fourth and Natalie hasn’t said one word. Instead she cleaned the kitchen and packed up her overnight bag, before settling next to you for an episode of Jerry Springer and her own deserved treat.

“So, do tell, my friend. Is Peter the one you wanted to know was home safe?”

Deny till death.

“No way, I’m talking about Mr. Harrington, he’s like a hundred years old.”

Natalie takes her time chewing and swallowing, “your hundred year old neighbor is up in the middle of the night?”

It’s dumb to lie, you and her know the truth.

You shrug and take a fifth cookie, “he may have a routine, I dunno.”

Your friend hums, “I just thought it may be Peter, cause you share a wall and all.”

Gagging at his name you shake it off, “Gross! It’s bad enough knowing the plate these were on were in his hands.” It takes you a second but you’re able to plow through another bite.

“I just… why do we hate Peter so much?”

You don’t know, you think you blocked it out. Every time you look at him a weird feeling bubbles up and it makes you want to scream, cry, fight and hug it out with him in one second. It’s easier to bark at him than confront him about your feelings.

“I don’t know. He’s just a pest to me, every time I turn around he’s there. And I swear to god he spilled the beans about that party last year.”

Natalie Greene knows three things to be true.

One: Peter Parker likes you, you just don’t know it yet.

“What if you talked to him?”

Cookie crumbs fall over your shirt as you talk, “I’m sorry, what?”

Two: You like Peter Parker, you just don’t know it yet.

“If you need me and I’m not around, if you need someone to support you through this and I can’t be here, promise me you’ll knock on his door.”

You scoff at the idea, “yeah, sure.” she’s not very confident you mean it.

“Seriously, promise me right now if I can’t be there for you, you’ll ask him.”

She was serious, something in her tone made you shift and agree. It’s not like she’d go anywhere, Natalie Green was your lifeline.

“Alright! If you aren’t around and it’s literally life or death, I’ll ask… him.”

Three: Things get worse before they get better, you just don’t know it yet.

WEEK TWO.

Your mornings always started the same, a routine was important to you. It was consistent. It was wake up, hit up the bathroom, change, yawn and rub your eyes through breakfast before leaving to thrive in silence before school.

Today, when leaving, right as you’re pocketing your keys, your neighbor speaks out.

“Hey.”

You freeze, it’s rare you run into Peter in the mornings. You figure he leaves way earlier, or later than you. But when you do, you ignore each other with silence. You really don’t like the sudden change.

“How are you doing?”

You wonder if he heard you crying last night, you thought you got rid of it after the party. You didn’t understand how you could be happy one moment and miserable the next. What made it worse was when 3:02 am hit and you heard his window slam, your sniffles settled.

“Like I was dumped, thanks for the reminder.”

Your foot hits the first step when he calls out, “and the cookies?”

Biting your bottom lip you turn, it really was a nice gesture. You may not like him, but you loved May and she’s the one that put in all that hard work. Peter lights up when you face him, if he had a tail he’d start wagging it. It makes you bite down on your cheek, he doesn’t deserve unprovoked rage.

“They were really good,” you take three steps before turning back around.

“And, I uh, took your advice. Ate the whole plate, I mean.”

Peter fumbles, his key chain drops but he stays looking at you. His thumb shoots behind him to point at his door, “we have like, twenty left. Want some more?”

You shake your head softly, “maybe later?” Peter nods exuberantly, “yeah, yeah. I’ll bring them over.”

You curl your lip up and stomp down the steps, “thanks for the warning, penis!”

This was it.

This was your worst nightmare.

Not only did things get shuffled around until you were sitting next to Peter at dinner, where you made it a point to scoot your chair away from him when his shoulder touched yours and immediately swiped the area clean- But now you blinked blankly at your dinner while your mom droned on and on and on about the guy who dumped you. It didn’t matter if it was good or bad, you just wanted her to stop.

“And he was so sweet, wasn’t he? Honey, are you sure he hasn’t reached out? It’s not too late to call him, maybe if you-” May didn’t deserve to see you upset, and it kills you that Peter saw that emotion. Your mom didn’t even deserve it, you were so sick of trying to keep it together.

Your chair screeches with how quick you jump out of your seat.

“He doesn’t give a shit, he dumped me! So why do you think he’d call? He doesn’t want me, I mean he’s made that clear right?” Your eyes shoot to May’s, “I’m right, right? You don’t break up with someone if you still care, or want them, right?”

Tears haze your vision, “he ended it with me mom, and you know why? It’s cause he found a new girl! He fucking-” water rushes down your cheeks but you don’t stop, “he,” you collapse on the word, you can’t get a good inhale on breath.

“He left me to pick up the pieces, that’s all he did.” It clicked full motion, he left you behind and ended it. He got a fresh start and you were left trying to hold it together, like how it was, how it was supposed to be.

You sob, your chest has never felt so tight. Shaky breaths fade into sharp inhales, you can’t fucking breathe. Gasping you put a hand over your heart, you know in the back of your mind it’s a panic attack but all you feel is imminent death.

Peter stands and blocks your body with his, you don’t know what’s happening but you’re trying to get away. Each step you take backwards he takes one forwards until you're wheezing in your room, your ears are ringing and it feels like a heart attack is in approach. Your eyes squeeze shut and in an instant you feel calmer, it’s not because of your sudden blink. It’s because Peter has his hands over your ears pressing in, your back against the wall and front against his chest.

It’s the last place you want to be but you’re angry, and he’s there, and it’s all coming out.

You’re able to breathe but at what cost? You grip Peter’s shirt as tight as you could and wail into his chest, it’s the first time you’ve ever actually felt him against you. He’s more sturdy than you thought, as you push more and more weight on him he doesn’t stagger one bit. His arms held you to him, keeping steady until you’d push him away.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you coughed the words into his shirt, you held tighter when his only response was resting his chin on your head. You apologized and cried until you ran out of tears and your breaths were nothing but sharp inhales.

When reality hits and you realize you've been crying into Peter’s hold for minutes you push him away and wipe your nose. Avoiding his eyes, you look to the carpet, you have a fresh cry glow and mindset, it’s the good kind of emotional numb.

“I, um, I still have those cookies?”

Those being his choice of words after a troubling breakdown was warming, it made you feel like you weren’t so crazy. Or at least, Peter didn’t see you as crazy, which when thinking about didn’t mean much.

You can’t help but laugh, it’s so loud and opposite of every other emotion you spilled tonight it makes him jump, you see him setting up for the attack. The moment you snap at him and call him a weirdo for cornering you and throwing himself on you.

Tonight, you were full of surprises.

“Yeah,” you nod your head and wipe your nose one last time, “I’d love to come over for cookies.”

You had to look away from his smile, it was too blinding.

You broke the rule, you went lurking and hurt your own feelings. She’s all over his instagram, and she’s pretty. He’s all over hers, dating back to five months ago.

You do a double take, five months?

He had been cheating on you for months before he ended it. You feel sick. He told you he loved you while he was in bed with another girl. You felt so much rage inside you couldn’t hold it in, Natalie was too far away and Peter’s already seen you at your worst.

You move without thinking, slamming your fist on his door.

Wide eyes open it, Peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared he was the subject of attack. You swerve past him, if you were in a cartoon, steam would be billowing from your ears. You didn’t get angry often, and you’ve never felt upset enough to punch someone, but all you could think about was screaming and slamming your fist into the wall.

“I hate him, I fucking hate him so fucking much. If you ever hear me crying I need you to come over and tell me I’m absolutely pathetic for crying over a fucking cheater.”

While he’s glad you’re not there to yell at him, his heart sinks for you.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was right in front of my face, too. She’d been claiming him since the second week of school. I’ve been a fool, god, I fucking hate him. I hate him so much I… I want to break something.”

Peter eyes his science notebook, he doesn’t have anything for you to break, but he has something that will make enough noise to drown out the voices. He grabs it and holds it out, you gently take it giving him a confused look.

“Wack it. Beat the absolute shit out of it on the counter.”

You look unsure, you don’t want to ruin his things, even if you don’t like him.

“Right on the edge, go on, do it.” His egging you on makes you follow his command, it’s gentle.

“Harder,” you test it.

“Harder,” you give a smack, it makes a popping sound and you jump, it feels good.

“Like you mean it, like you need it.” You do it again, it’s louder. You strike down without instruction, Peter starts barking at you, it makes you angrier.

“Harder, don’t be so weak!”

He hit the right nerve, you can’t stop, you’re moving so quick and using so much force the spine starts to rip from the cardboard. It feels good destroying something, it makes you beat the laminate harder. Loud cracks echoing from the walls.

You heave for air, every bit of force directed into your diminished trust. You yell between each blow.

“Fucking!”

“Piece!”

“Of!”

“Shit!”

You start to slow down, Peter’s notebook is fucked. You feel bad. Gasping for air when you’re done, Peter gives you a head nod, “better?”

You nod, “lots. Sorry about your book.” He doesn’t look bothered in the slightest, “it’s a good excuse to get a new one, I hate green.” You peer over the contents in the pages, “that’s a lie, everyone knows science is green.” Peter laughs, he nods like he’s saying ‘you got me there.’ “Doesn’t mean I like it though.”

Looking down at the notebook, you peer up at Peter. He looks soft, the sleeves of his zip up hoodie covered his thumbs, he has sweater paws. His hair framed his face nicely, his cheeks have a natural pink hue, it’s like he’s always sunkissed, or calming down from a laughing fit.

The sun is backlighting him perfectly, it makes his eyes look even more honey golden than they already do. You don’t know why you find him slightly cute at the moment, it makes your stomach tug and not in a good way. The last time you thought someone was cute you got burned, and you’ve always had a disdain for Peter.

Peter was the worst kind of rebound to have because you can’t decide who’d get more hurt from it, and the thought of that makes you want to avoid him forever.

“You’re looking at me funny.”

You are, it’s because you’re noticing him for the first time, at least since you were eight. Suddenly you can remember why you cut him out when you were a kid.

“I had a crush on you when we were younger. I think that’s why I stopped being your friend.”

Your confession made Peter’s eyes widen, he looks to the ground and hides his smile. When he picks his head back up he looks to the side, his cheeks a bit more flushed than normal. “That’s cute.”

It was. It was innocent and juvenile, his small response made you laugh. “Yeah, it really was.” You shouldn’t entertain it any further, but you can’t stop. Something about seeing his blush makes you want to keep going, “Wanna know when it started?” He looks curious, “sure.”

You go quiet for a minute, you haven’t thought about it in years. The moment it clicked you were freaked out, the first time you liked a boy and he was your best friend. You went from wanting to play in dirt to holding his hand. A smile spreads over your face when you watch the memory replay in your mind.

“We were at the complex playground and we were digging by that droopy tree across from the swingset, and I saw a lizard in the grass and I pointed it out to you. I told you I always wanted to hold one but they moved too fast and scared me, but you held out your arm and said ‘I got this.’” You laugh, replaying it once more.

“And you dive bombed and picked it up, and you were so fucking proud to have caught it. Then you placed it in my hand but I felt it move around and freaked out, but you held your hand over mine and said ‘don’t be scared.’”

There’s something about an eight year old Peter Parker with glasses and dirt smudged cheeks that had child you giddy.

Peter’s smiling, it’s like he’s reliving that day in his head too. “I fulfilled your lifelong dream and you fell for me.” You shrug, “maybe.” Setting his notebook on the counter you look around, you feel like you’ve said too much.

“Hey, um, thanks for the whole… unleashing my anger thing.” You're setting yourself up for a goodbye, Peter can sense it.

“Are you hungry? Wanna go get some pizza?”

No matter what was said, or thought, you still have that pinch of annoyance at him. But his brightness was what you needed today, and you hadn’t had lunch. You have a sinking feeling you’d regret it, there was something that felt like it was a bit more than friendly and it had you throwing up every wall possible.

Still, you find yourself agreeing.

“Sure. Let’s get some pizza.”

It was a stereotypical pizza place and those were the best ones. The wall is covered in pictures of random people, terrible paintings and red checkered tablecloths covered wobbly tables. They had a permanent sticky residue, your elbows peeled when you raised them up.

“I’m surprised you didn’t judge me on my hawaiian choice.” He always did, he told you it wasn’t authentic and childish.

“Hey, I’m a pizza guy, alright? Anything you put on a pizza belongs on it. I mean, I get the appeal, sweet and savory.” Your face brightens, he understands. “Exactly! And the warm pineapple just hits differently, it’s like-” Peter can read your mind, you say it at the same time. “Fries and ice cream.”

Another thing he found gross, your head tilts, it just kind of clicks with Peter. Your ex would sneer when you’d go for a dip, you begged him to try it a hundred times, you promised he’d like it but he’d tell you it was ‘fucking gross’.

“Hawaiian and pepperoni, can I get you kids anything else?” You shake your head while Peter responds for the both of you, ‘no thanks, we’re good.” Peter’s slice has a pool of grease in a slice of his pepperoni, it looks delicious. He sees you eying his choice and holds it out, “you want a bite don’t you?” Your eyes flash to your slice, “only if you take a bite of mine.” It’s only fair. “Swap with me,” you trade plates and tap slices as a cheers, humming when you take a bite Peter nods impressively.

You swap back and take a bite of yours, it’s heavenly. “I’m glad I got mine.” Peter agrees with the statement, “I’m sorry, babe, but pepperoni is superior. It’s all about keeping it simple.” You know he meant nothing by it, you know it meant it in a friendly way, you know it’s a regular pet name to use in passing, but he called you babe.

Hearing the term of affection makes your skin crawl, you swallow a lump in your throat. You want to snap at him, but instead your voice comes out soft. “Please don’t call me that.” Peter’s eyes soften, he almost tells you he didn’t mean it like that, but he knows you already understand that.

“No problem, old lady.” It took a second, but you couldn’t stop the laugh. “What did you just call me?” Peter bites his bottom lip, “well, that’s the opposite of babe, isn’t it?” It makes your smile bigger, it’s funny, if you had asked him something that simple he’d fight you on it, ask a million questions and push it until you gave up.

For the first time in a month you really can’t remember why you thought he was so great.

WEEK THREE.

Natalie Greene has her hair pulled slick back in a ponytail, a determined look and hands on her hips.

“Let’s fuck some shit up.”

Lunch with Peter had really pushed you forward, you had strayed away from him the last few days. You still listened for him nightly but avoided him in the hallway and at school, he was everything he was not, and it made you feel queasy.

It was time you removed him from your life, you started with blocking him on everything. From instagram to duolingo. Then, you piled up everything he left behind or things that reminded you of him, but you couldn’t touch your closet. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Enter Natalie Greene.

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for me, everything else was fine.” Natalie shrugs, your closet doors are open and she’s itching to start rummaging. “It’s not for me. What are we thinking, trash, donate, burn? Dare I say detonate?”

You snort, “think I could do some black magic?” Her eyes light up, “I’ll look up the dark arts right now, don’t dare me.” You sigh, “I don’t care what you do with them, I just need them out of here.” Natalie Greene understands, she’s been there too a few times. Everything that reminds you of him burns like hell. A constant reminder of what’s no longer.

It’s only five shirts and some sweatpants but it feels paralyzing. Once his clothes are gone he’s no longer, like the last year never meant anything. He cheated but you still feel like it was real for the time you had him.

“Shit, can we raincheck the disposal?” Natalie is staring at her phone in her hand, a worried line where her lips were. “Family stuff.” You tell her it’s fine and send her out in a second, staring at the bag you started to twitch.

It felt daunting- a looming presence. You almost got rid of him but couldn’t. It was five minutes of harsh breathing, then you drag it across the hall hoping Peter was home. You needed them gone.

May answered the door and you feel slightly flustered.

“Hi, May. Is Peter home?”

She welcomes you in the door, skipping over the makeshift laundry bag and giving a quick but squeezing hug. “How are you feeling?” If you had been asked that a week ago you’d fly off the handle, but this week it feels like you can breathe a bit better.

“I think I’m doing pretty okay. It helped to know he cheated, it makes me miss him sixty percent less. The other forty makes me feel pathetic.” May frowns with empathy, “my college boyfriend cheated. Betrayal and hurt is a weird feeling when mixed with love.”

You laugh, “yeah, it really is.” May clears her throat, “Peter’s in his room, he may be busy with some homework.” You thank her and move down the hallway, the plastic bag follows, half of you hopes it rips because it’s what he deserves.

You knock and wait for his response, grunting when you swing the trash bag over the threshold and let it drop. “I have an odd request for a man.” Peter seems surprised to see you for a second, then looks at the bag and back at you. He seems a bit more weary.

“Uh huh.”

“I’m getting rid of his things and Nat had to dip, wanna come with?” You follow up with a wince, “I’m sorry, this is super weird and out of place.”

Peter shrugs, “if it helps, it helps. And if you’re serious, I’ll go with you.” You take a deep breath, healing and growing isn’t always comfortable. “Fuck it, let’s donate some shit.”

You feel like you stand straighter walking out with Peter behind you, he’s carrying the dead weight and you feel accomplished. May has a raised eyebrow, you hold out your hand and settle her curiosity.

“Don’t worry, justice is about to be served.”

May grins at her nephew's soft smile, she’s seen and heard about you more in the last two weeks than she has in the last nine years. “It’s sounding a lot more like twenty percent.”

The moment things started turning south was at the donation center. You weren’t even standing super close to Peter, or radiating an aura that even suggested he was anything more than a conveniently close acquaintance. But the volunteer at the front thought differently.

“Aw, I wish more young couples came in, it always seems to brighten up the place!”

You feel like a force of wind caught you breathless, every inch of you froze on the spot. When she says couple you think of him, but you’re not a couple anymore. When she says ‘couple’ you feel your heart encapsulate with rubble, the idea of him makes you feel sick.

You don’t think you could ever love again.

Especially not with Peter, not even when he shies away with pink cheeks and tries to shrug her comment off. It’s not worth the awkwardness of announcing you’re not a couple, you both know you’re not, and she doesn’t really care if you were or not.

“We were just in the mood to donate today,” he plays it off well. You chew on your lip and watch him fill out the donation slip, it’s second nature for Peter to take care of you, it was something he mostly failed at.

Before the attendant can take the bag, Peter stops her by hovering his hand over it, he turns his neck and makes eye contact. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your heart pounds, threatening to crack the rock.

“I’m sure.” Because, you really are.

Peter smiles, “any last words?” You try to think of something, nothing comes to mind other than a blur of frustration and confusion. Raising your hand you give it the middle finger, Peter’s laughing at your blank face, “c’mon, you know you wanna double it.” You do, so you did.

It feels freeing, you’re not healed but you don’t have a daunting weight on your shoulders anymore. A satisfied smile spreads, your hands drop for a second before Peter’s high-fiving you. You’re tucked under his arm after saying his thanks to the confused volunteer, bumping your hip against his and caged in his hold you feel safe. Safer than you’ve ever felt.

A crack in the rocks, your heart thumps wildly when he drags you opposite from where you came. “Let me buy you a hawaiian.”

Peter is pretty. You could admit it. Never out loud, but you’d admit it silently. He’s on fire tonight, keeping you laughing and talking. He’s a perfect story teller, he has a way of pulling you in. He’s charismatic and throws himself into every role, voices and body movements.

Your chin is resting on your hand while you focus on every word of his, entranced in his excitement. A lamp hanging over your mini booth makes him look a tad yellow, but his eyes shine brighter than all hell, you never knew brown eyes could suck you in for hours.

For a second your mind blips and you truly can’t remember his eye color. But you know they’re nothing like Peter’s.

You forget to react, because Peter cut himself off and waved his hand in front of his face. You blink alert, he has a very charming smile, you look at a table of older women. “You good? Felt like you were trying to look into my soul.”

You can’t stop it, it's a knee jerk reaction and the moment you say it you regret it.

“Your eyes are very pretty.” You won’t stop looking at a slice of mozzarella on a grandma’s plate. Peter hums, nodding his head like he understands, “so you weren’t trying to sacrifice me, you just got lost in my very pretty eyes.”

The crack splinters, a chunk falls off. You meet his eyes, he’s not making fun of you. You sit straighter and reach out to steal a piece of pepperoni from his slice, acting like you’re not blatantly flirting with ease.

“I just haven’t noticed them before I think.”

Peter’s quiet for a moment, his arms are crossed on the table, fingers tap on his elbows.

“Well, I’m glad you are now.” It’s a little too much, he’s not allowed to entertain you back, he could hurt you too.

You clear your throat, “I need to ask you something.” Peter stops tapping, it’s like he’s been waiting on you to say it. “Yeah, anything.”

You lean forward a little, “did you tell my mom about the party last year?” He looks slightly disappointed that was your question, “nope.” Your eyes narrow, “I’d rather us not start a friendship built on lies.”

Peter lights up, “friendship?” A displeased expression was shared, “thin ice, Parker.” He seems a bit more determined to tell the truth this time.

Peter sits up and interlocks his fingers, “I promise I didn’t tell her. Mr. Harrington did. And I know how much you like him and I thought you would stop going to see him if you knew and he’s super old so I just kinda… let you believe it was me.”

Your heart breaks free, it’s loud and pumping and it’s making you feel alive. A sense of urgency to do something to him makes you itch, you have to pull your hands to your lap. In that second, for whatever reason, all you want is to feel his skin on yours.

He’d be willing to do anything for you, even at the cost of you hating him.

“You’re the most selfless person I know and it’s kind of insufferable.” Peter rolls his eyes, “just admit you like me, god.” Your breath stutters, but you move right past it.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep talking about the petting zoo.”

Peter jumps back into character, “alright, so I’m down on-”

For the first time in weeks you slept through the night, until three am. You woke up on your own, a mental alarm had you looking out for him. After you hear the comforting chorus of movement, you hide under your pillow and go back to sleep.

Your world is falling apart. You were on the track to healing, each piece of your heart was slowly mending back together. Until news of Natalie Greene going out of town hits, you collapse to your bed with an arm over your eyes. Facetime carries her into your room.

“Why couldn’t your grandma die next month?” She nods her head, folding a tank top to drop it into her carry on. “So true, she should’ve known you were having a crisis.” You nod, “it’s so hard knowing the world doesn’t revolve around me.”

The room goes quiet as she moves around and packs. You contemplate telling her, you didn’t want a spectacle and you didn’t even know if or what you wanted from Peter. But damn if you hadn’t been thinking about it for days. You wonder if she’s picked up on the hints, you’d been relying on her less and less.

“Are you going to hang with Peter while I’m gone?” Your mind flashes to him, the past few nights he’d sent you a few videos that he thought you’d like. And you did, even if he didn’t know you as deeply as he has until recently, he still makes you feel seen.

He would send you things he found funny.

Peter sends you things he knows you’d find funny.

“Maybe. He buys me pizza so he’s cool to have around, I guess.” Natalie Greene snorts, “and I’m sure he makes fun of your pineapple.” It feels like your heart shines, “no, actually. He gets it.” Your eyes flash to the top of the screen, a text from Peter pops up, you waste no time hitting the notification.

‘Wanna come have some brownie cookies?’

You bite your lip, rising from your bed you shuffle into your slippers. “Hey, Nat, I gotta go. I’m really sorry about your grandma.” She rolls her eyes, “she was super old and I didn’t really know her, it’ll be cool to see my cousins though.”

“Have fun on the trip!”

A wicked grin, “have fun with Peter.” You don’t even fight her on it, she knew exactly what you were doing.

Your knuckles tapped on the door, it was opened in seconds. Peter had a glow like you’ve never noticed, he only got more and more pretty. A smile stretched across his face, you love how it always meets his eyes.

“Hi.”

Your slippers softly scrape the wood floors when you enter, “hi.” Peter gestures you towards the kitchen, and for whatever reason, you reach behind you and tug him along.

“Okay, okay, so what did she say?”

Your legs swing on the counter, mumbling between mouthfuls of the dessert fusion you’re fully invested in Peter’s story. He had caught Mrs. Hopkins and the chef that lives on floor two in an argument, and it turns out Mrs. Hopkins was the complex's porch pirate.

Peter swallows his own bite, “she asked me to back her up! And I was all like, ‘hell no, you stole my aunt’s juicer.’” You gasp, “not May’s juicer.” Peter holds a finger up, ‘nah, I caught her red handed. She was so pissed and on the spot she snapped at me like, ‘it wasn’t a juicer, it was a butter dish.”

You slap a hand over your mouth, “oh no.” Peter’s eyebrows raise, turning his back to grab a glass of milk. “I wish you could’ve seen the look on her face when she realized she told on herself, it was awesome. She was spewing shit all the way to the elevator.”

Finishing your treat your tongue feels thick, holding out a hand in a silent request for a swig of his milk. Peter looks between your hand and his glass, he looks weary.

“Are you sure you wanna drink after me? I figured you’d be scared of my cooties.” You motion for the cup, he passes it over and you wrap your palms around the glass.

“Oh, you absolutely have boy cooties, they just become non-contagious at puberty.” Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “I think I forgot that lesson, what else can I expect from puberty?” You laugh on a gulp of milk, “trust me, Parker, puberty hit you like a bus.

He steps closer, you set the glass down next to you.

“Is that a good thing?”

You look over his face, he’s got a defined bone structure but soft features. A boyish charm coats over him, it’s just enough of a hint of innocence you beg he never loses it. It’s a no brainer, he was attractive, your eyes flash to his mouth, it’s a wild instinct and you try your best to shake it off.

“Yes. I’d say puberty was very kind to you.” Peter takes another step, “how so?” Pretending to think about it, like you weren’t already, you take a second to respond. You don’t notice him taking another step.

“Well, you have a nice jawline.” Peter tilts his head slightly, “is that all?” You’re not sure what it is, but there’s an undertone and it fills you with excitement.

“And very nice curls.”

“I don’t think that has anything to do with puberty.” You suppose he’s right, “you’re taller than me now.” You had an inch on him when you were kids. Peter’s suddenly right in front of you, “especially now.” He has to look down at you while you blink up at him from the counter, “yeah, you’re like a giant.”

Your mind betrays you, his lips are unnaturally pink, they look like they’re the right amount chapped. “Anything else?” You’re struggling, all you can think about is him but you can’t follow a train of thought.

“You smell really good,” you take a deep breath when his hands rest on either side of you, he’s caging you in and everything builds with anticipation, you fight the urge to pull him in. “You’re just complimenting me now.”

You shake your head, “do you know how many teenage boys smell bad?” It’s not your fault, he’s so close his scent has invaded your senses, you wanted to inhale him until you turned blue.

“One more.” You try to think, he’s making it very hard. It takes a second but you have one, proud to have pulled it from the chamber, a sly grin takes place.

“You-” Lips on yours, it happened so fast you couldn’t catch up. Mind spinning when you realize Peter Parker was kissing you, you know you should shove him off, but it feels right. It’s over as quick as it started.

You just got out of a relationship, one that tugged you to one of the lowest points of your life so far. It’s not lost on you when you weren’t the one to pull away, but you’re the first one to comment on it.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” You weren’t mad, you were warning him, he doesn’t know what lies ahead.

“But I really wanted to.” His eyes keep looking you over, was he expecting you to scream?

It’s dangerous territory, your voice feather soft when it comes out. “And do you want to again?” Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea.

It felt like the air went still in the room, everything slowly melted into the background until it was only you and him. The quiet hum of the air conditioner faded into silence, the scene music from a movie on the tv in the room behind you diluted to nothing.

It was just you and Peter, and he was getting closer. It was achingly slow, you know what he’s doing, he’s giving you a chance to escape. Bail before it became too real, but has he thought about the possibility of you leaning closer?

What are you doing?

His lips hovered over yours, when you closed your eyes he took it as permission.

You’d always heard of the fireworks, that kisses are like explosions of happiness. And they were, and you loved them, but there were no fireworks. At least with him.

With Peter, your entire sky brightened. Little prickles of electricity dolly chained up your spine, an explosion of color in your mind. It made you starving and whole in one touch, his body made to fit against yours perfect.

You wonder if he has the same feeling, you think he does when his hand cups your face, the other one tugs your hip so you fit him better. It’s bold of you, but when you feel that entranced you don’t know how to stop. Your tongue swipes on his bottom lip, it’s very clear he doesn’t know what to do.

You pull away for air, Peter’s pupils blow wide before looking at the floor. His head feels like it’s spinning, the girl he’s always wanted, wants him right back. Peter feels very aware of his surroundings, how hard his heart is pounding, how you’re holding him to you, how you’re tracing his bottom lip with your thumb, how you’re leaning back in, how he’s holding you into him.

You take the lead, it’s slow but you build his confidence, he’s a quick learner.

In minutes you’re nearly laid back on the kitchen counter, you’re about to suggest he takes it to his bedroom, but the thought of breaking away from his kiss keeps you stationary. Peter’s locked to you too, your legs hooked around his waist, keeping him as close as he could get.

All you can think is Peter, Peter, Peter.

He claims he doesn’t know much, but it feels like he’s intune with your body. Peter matches you perfectly, you never knew a makeout session could bring so much tension. A moan pulls from the back of your throat when his thumb peeks under the cotton of your shirt.

Peter breaks the kiss, little huffs of air billow from your mouth while he kisses down the side of your neck. When he finds the spot that makes you squirm he nibbles gently, a hand tangled at the back of his hair lets him know he’s doing something right.

Especially when you arch into his touch as his hand confidently slides under your shirt, digging his fingers into the plush skin over your ribcage. “Fuck, Peter,” it’s breathy and eggs him on, he wants to hear nothing but that for the rest of his life.

Caught up in the moment neither of you heard the door, or noticed the third person in the room, until shock spewed from their mouth.

“Oh, wow!”

Peter rips himself away, his instinct is to hide your face into his chest. You’re grateful, it saves the embarrassment of looking his aunt in the eye after she watched you fold under his hands. Peter’s mind is racing, his only priority was keeping you comfortable.

Fuck, he kisses so sweet. Shut up!

“Hey, May. Get anything good at the farmers market?”

Blatant ignorance and casual conversation was the route he took, and it seemed to have worked. Cloth bags hit the counter, you stay hidden, Peter’s hand pressed into the back of your head. He’s sturdy, your head lays perfect on his sternum, it was made for you. No, stop.

“Yes! I got more of that european bread we really liked.” As much as you would like to be ignored, May wouldn’t let you. A pat on your knee sent your arms curling around Peter’s waist, he tried his best to settle the clench of his heart.

Fits perfect, fits perfect, fits-

“You’d love it, it’s roasted garlic, real pieces too!”

It may be rude to ignore the owner of a home, but you weren’t looking at her for another ten lightyears. At least you give a muffled response into Peter’s chest, “sounds good.” May giggles a little, you hear the fridge open and rustling.

“Are you gonna hide from me forever?”

If Peter could play pretend, so could you. You pushed him away softly, “Peter made brownie cookies.” May raises an eyebrow, directing her attention towards her nephew. “Ever since that first plate of cookies Peter’s been baking like it’s his job.”

He’s perfect.

“You made the cookies?” Peter had told you May did, you’re sure of it. He nods quickly, “I figured if I told you, you’d think they were poisoned.”

You want his touch, you want him pressed into you again. This has to stop.

It’s dramatic, but you’ll bite. “Smart boy.” Peter has a gleam in his eye, “I really am.”

May knows when she’s third wheeling, she makes an excuse to move to the living room, Peter nods towards his room. You accept his hand down and look behind you at the door. He was frustratingly magnetic, you wanted to do nothing more than fall into bed and stay forever attached to his lips.

It was a new rush of feelings, most of them new and almost dangerous. You wanted to explore and learn and take some of Natalie Greene’s advice and grow. But more than wanting, you knew you had to leave.

You were still healing, and if it hurt this bad with him, where nothing felt like this, you can’t imagine the burn this could leave.

“I should go,” you can’t look him in the eye, he’d suck you back in. You’d never be able to leave, you have to leave.

“Is this because of May? Cause we can leave and..” You shake your head fast and take a step back, he’s too kind, too understanding, too new and thrilling and, and… loving. You don’t deserve him or what he brings, you can’t bear the imagination of what his heartbreak would feel like.

“No, not May.” There was only one thing that kept you from him before, you were still pulling the same childish tricks. Something about Peter Parker caused you irrational terror.

“I told you, you shouldn’t have done that.”

Peter tries to look at you, you take another step back. “You asked if I wanted to do it again.” He can’t use logic, it won’t work here. “That didn’t mean do it again.”

“You sure? Cause it really seemed like you wanted me to do it again.” You feel choked for air, he’s backing you into a corner.

“You understood wrong. I need to leave.” Your footsteps paused when Peter called out your name, a timid look over your shoulder made him continue.

“Don’t do this. I know what you’re doing, and it doesn’t end well for either of us. We’re not eight anymore.” Your game was called, you didn’t want to do this, you don’t want to be mean. Why did he have to make you do this to him?

“Desperation isn’t a good look on you.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest, his tongue swipes over his top teeth before poking out his cheek. “Of course it isn’t.” You’re very aware that he expected this to happen, he expected you to push him away and close the gates. If he did, then he shouldn’t have kissed you. He brought this on himself.

“Nothing is.” What’s a final blow if only to tie the bow on no future contact? Peter took a deep breath and gives you the escape you were looking for, “I’ll see you later.” You shake your head, “no, you won’t.”

The hallway is cold and so is your heart. Removing Peter as a potential threat didn’t do much, somehow you think it feels worse than what it would be like to love and then lose him.

Too bad he wasn’t worth the risk.

You knew dinner was going to be awkward. You did your best to get out of it but it was deemed impossible, you were about to gouge your eyes out of your head just for a solid excuse. But your mom said that you weren’t allowed to do that. So you didn’t.

Peter on the other hand, looked like he was having the time of his life. Especially when May shot you a wink across the table when he reached over your plate. You threatened your eye with a fork, your mom gave you a nasty glare.

“Butter, please?”

You cross your arms and scoff, “get it yourself, penis.” Your mom gasped out your name, appalled you would say something like that. She told you to look him in the eye and apologize, using his real name. Peter showed no reaction, chewing on a buttered biscuit.

“I’m sorry for calling you a penis, Peter.” It was the least authentic apology he’s ever heard.

“Aw, let them be kids, they’re in love.”

Your knife hits your plate so hard it chips, Peter chokes on his bite, crumbs fall from his mouth as he tries to speak as fast as he can. “No, no, May… no.”

You feel the walls closing in, the more you run from it, the more it’s announced. You can’t win. It’s brutal silence on your end, you’re shutting down into a shell of a human.

“Oh? I thought after-”

Peter has your back. “After we made pizza? It was one time, May. It wasn’t like I planned it, it just happened. We were hanging out and I just really wanted pizza and I didn’t really stop to think if she wanted pizza, I just made it.”

May plays right along, and asks you directly. “Does that mean you’re not coming over for pizza anymore?” Does that mean you’re not dating my nephew anymore?

Peter already knows the answer, he just wonders if it’s different if his aunt asks.

“The last pizza I had burned to a crisp in the oven and it tasted really, really bad. And if that was a pizza I thought I loved, I can’t imagine how bad it would’ve been if it was my favorite.”

Your mother has never seen you so passionate about pizza. May quirks an eyebrow, she looks at Peter while she asks.

“You don’t trust Peter in the kitchen?”

You’re doing your best to ignore Peter’s eyes on the side of your face, you’re trying to pretend you’re not being vulnerable.

“He’s the only person who could burn it all down.”

May clicks her tongue, she’s more focused on cutting up her dinner. “For what it’s worth, as Peter’s aunt, he’s a great chef. He takes his time in the kitchen, he doesn’t mind waiting for the yeast to bloom. Because when the dough is ready, he’s really gentle at scooping it up and helping it turn into whatever it needs to be.”

You turn to Peter, he gives a shy smile. “You’re not scared of burning yourself?”

A shrug, “It’s a precaution you take each time you cook, but from what I’ve learned, burns heal.”

“Scars don’t.”

Peter tilts his head, “they fade over time, don’t they?”

May speaks up, she’s looking right at you. It goes past the depth of high school love, it goes to the deepest mark one could leave on a heart. A lover lost too soon.

“They do.”

WEEK FOUR

Peter Parker has been on your mind for four days, (and nights,) straight. Each morning you wake at 3:02 and hear his muffled metronome. You’ve gotten avoiding him down to a T. The first morning you woke up early to watch him leave, then planned a ten minute window in case he was running late one day, and left around that.

You’ve been successful so far. But there was an underlying tug that wanted to be caught, you wanted him to hold you close to him and tell you that he wasn’t going anywhere and nothing safe is worth the risk.

Is that why you let yourself be caught by him this morning?

“Good morning,” it was shot over his shoulder while he locked the door. You grumbled out to him, Peter doesn’t mind you didn’t use words, you were directing expression towards him and that’s enough. “Wanna walk together?”

The idea sends flutters to the middle of your stomach, a brief image of his hand in yours while your hip bumps against his every so often and you laugh at whatever he tells you takes over your mind. “If you want to walk near me while we go to the same location, that’s on you.”

Peter’s hot on your heels down the steps, “that’s a total yes.” You ignore him and try to subtly shut the main door on him, it doesn’t work. “How have you been?” Walking faster, you hope he catches the hint. Peter matches pace perfectly- damn him and his puberty bus and his big strides.

“Personally, I have been mourning the loss of my favorite neighbor coming over.” Peter blinks at the side of your face while carrying a grin. “I mean you, by the way. In case you needed that hint.”

“Got it. Thanks.” You know you need to pick a side, but something in you won’t let you ignore him.

“Welcome. You know, if you’re free, you’re invited for dinner tonight.” You pout sarcastically, “tell May I’ll miss her presence.” Peter bumps your arm, you feel like dropping to your knees. “She keeps asking about you, I’m running out of excuses.”

You scoff, “excuse what? You can tell her the truth, penis.” Peter almost loses you when you swerve around a stranger’s shoulder, in one second he’s next to you again. “And what would the truth be?”

“You pushed yourself onto me,” you stare at Peter in shock when your wrist was grabbed tightly, you came to a stop on the sidewalk with him. He maneuvered to stand in front of you, noticing every inch he had on you; it seemed like his playful mood vanished.

“Hey, I was just messing with you, okay? I thought you just didn’t want to talk about it, but pushing myself on you is the last thing I want you to think I did. If I made you uncomfortable, I’m really sorry.”

Your features softened, your words sent him into a shame spiral. It was annoying how upset he looked with himself, even if you had to swear him off forever, you didn’t want him to think he sexually harassed you.

“I was kidding, Peter. I don’t think you pushed yourself onto me, you gave me the option to back out and I pulled you in. I’d just rather never speak or think about it ever again.”

A weary smile, “that bad, huh?” You pulled your coat tighter around your chest, the cold making the tip of your nose numb. “Quite the opposite, really.” Before you could fall into temptation and kiss him in the middle of the city, you pulled away to keep heading towards school.

“Can I ask what that means?” You nod, “sure.” You offer up no more explanation.

“Well?” You look at him for a second, “oh, sorry. You can ask all you want, doesn’t mean I’ll tell you.”

“You’re gonna inflate my ego, you’re telling me it was so good you can’t put it into words.”

You give him a side eye, “I wasn’t aware there would be so much talking when I allowed you to walk next to me.”

“That’s not denial…” His cadence was sing-songy.

“You’re in denial.”

Peter shook his head confidently, “I’m not in denial, I am very okay with the fact I like you.”

You came to a halt. He’s not allowed to feel this way, he doesn’t know what it could bring. Has he not seen what love can do to a person? Has he not watched you crumble into a thousand pieces over and over throughout the weeks?

And why did his confession turn every piece of rubble into stained glass?

Peter’s not allowed to like you because reciprocation leads to temptation which bleeds into dating where it comes to a crashing end in heartbreak.

You tried to put on a serious face, but you know Peter sees the mask. “Don’t.” Pointing a finger at his chest, “don’t say that, don’t think that, and sure as shit don’t act on it.”

Peter must think you’re joking because he pushes your hand down before lightly laughing. “Don’t act on it? I already did.” Is that what he did? Did he plan that moment? You thought it was a spur of the moment thing, but maybe he’s been planning it for weeks.

How long has he liked you?

It doesn’t matter. You’ll be the adult and end it before it can start, he doesn’t know what this can do to a person. You can do it nicely, or at least try. Maybe he’d find it more sincere if it comes from the heart.

“Peter, have you ever had your heart broken? Like, really broken? Because I wouldn’t put that on my worst enemy. It’s a type of emotional pain that turns physical, I mean, have you ever been so heartbroken you throw up? Have you ever been so sad you don’t eat for days? Have you ever cried so hard you almost fainted? It’s shit, Peter.”

“But was it worth it?”

Did he not hear anything you just said? “What does that mean?”

Peter adjusts the strap of his backpack, “you loved him, right?” You don’t need to give an answer, he already knows it. “Do you regret it? Even with the heartbreak, did that undo all the good that came out of it all?”

You lick your bottom lip, it’s been a circulating thought. Love opened up doors you didn’t know were closed, in the end it was a beautiful tragedy. But that’s the worst part, with Peter you don’t know what it would feel like. You’ve only had a glimpse and it tells you that it’s something that’s going to change you forever.

If Peter leaves, if Peter cheats, it’ll kill you, it’d be nothing like when he did it and you can’t take the gamble.

It was worth it with him, he made you grow. With Peter you’d take ten steps back and never be the same.

“There isn’t always a silver lining, Peter.” You refuse to answer.

“So, what, you’re never going to fall in love again?” Peter’s matching your pace again, you can’t wait until you’re in the four safe walls of Midtown.

“No, I just can’t fall in love with you.”

“Can’t is a funny word choice.”

“Won’t.” You exhale sharply, “I won’t fall in love with you.”

Peter has no interest in your claim, “it’d be easier if you just said you didn’t like me, but you’re not.”

You don’t have to answer, you can choose to ignore him entirely and you’ll be doing just that.

“I don’t like this conversation anymore and I’m ending it.” It works, only for twenty seconds, but it worked until Peter thinks he has a brilliant idea.

“Break up with me.”

Your steps slow, his did the same. Peter’s hands were tucked in his jacket pockets, the urge to kiss him breathless unmeasurable. You fight past it, “huh?”

“You said I don’t know real heartache, so I want you to break up with me. Right here.” He’s entirely way too amused for you, even the idea makes you feel sick.

“I’m not going to break up with you, Peter. I can’t get another tardy slip.” You keep walking, Peter hopped to keep up. “Ten seconds, just end it.”

“No.”

“C’mon, it’ll be easy. Dump me and break my heart.”

“We’re not dating. I can’t dump you, even if I wanted to.” What happened to ending the conversation?

You hear the smirk when he speaks. “If.”

“I’m not playing your word games, Peter.” Because you’re not.

A laugh, “then break up with me.”

You thought he was supposed to be smart. How has he not gotten any of this, does he think it’s a joke, does he think you’re playing? Peter has no idea what this means, but you do.

Tugging at his elbow, you stop him in his tracks. Staring into his eyes and daring yourself not to get lost, you try to make things extremely clear. “I can’t break up with you, Peter. I barely made it through him. I wouldn’t know how to handle losing you. You’d hurt me too bad and I can’t take that risk.”

Peter’s voice is soft when he answers, you want to close your eyes and have it carry you to heaven. “I can’t break up with you either. You’d be able to hurt me just as bad.” It takes you from your trance, “you would. Because I’m a bad girlfriend. If I wasn’t he wouldn’t have replaced me before he could end it.”

Peter’s eyebrows pull together, you stuff your hands into your coat pockets to keep from smoothing them out. “Hey, woah, let’s pause there. You did nothing wrong. Even if you were a bad girlfriend, and trust me, you weren’t, that would never justify him doing that to you. Nothing could.”

It’s nice of him, but he doesn’t know that. “We didn’t talk, you don’t know I wasn’t a bad girlfriend.” Peter scoffs, like the idea of you calling yourself a bad girlfriend offends him personally. “He made you cry all the time,” the words followed by your name. “Bad girlfriends don’t cry, bad boyfriends make their good girlfriends cry.”

Peter heard you. Every time you cried, every time you felt unloved, every time you sobbed out an ‘I’m sorry’ for something you didn’t know you did. He listened, Peter listened like you did each night. How did you never notice the universal gimmick?

If you think back, most of the bad moments were at the hands of him. And for Peter to notice when you were worlds away from his person, makes your heart wrench inside your chest. You know you already drew the line and there’s no crossing it, but it’s nice living in a moment make believe.

“You’d never be able to call me babe.” It was a shitty pet name. You never liked it.

You get flashed with a toothy grin. “That’s okay, I have a million to choose from.”

Or the obvious hang up, “May would totally hate me too, she knows I’ll take your virginity.” Peter waves you off, “we don’t know that.” You quirk an eyebrow, “we don’t?” Peter corrects himself, “she doesn’t have to know that.”

You chuckle from the back of your throat. “But she will. You wouldn’t be able to hide it. I definitely wouldn’t be able to hide it.” Peter looks down for a second, you follow his gaze, you wonder if you’re both zoned in on a black skid on the side of his shoe. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s like, you just get a lot more… touchy, I guess. Nothing’s off limits anymore.”

A monotone reply, “yeah, that sounds like a total nightmare.”

It gets too real. Make believe time is over, now you have to be an adult and stick to your guns.

“It wouldn’t work between us, Peter.”

You feel sad, there’s no good answer and both of you would be left with a bruise. He wanted more than you’d let yourself give and you wanted more than you’d let yourself have. Peter was right, you could hurt him just as bad, and you’d never forgive yourself.

Peter made himself a constant, someone you could really rely on the last few weeks, and if you lose that you don’t know how you’d ever be okay again.

“If you think so.” His kind smile doesn’t meet his eyes. It’s a quiet journey the rest of the way, both of you receiving a tardy slip and parting ways in the hall without a word or glance.

Peter Parker had gotten his wish. You just broke his heart.

This was all Natalie Greene’s fault. If she wasn’t stuck states away at a funeral she would’ve held you accountable and used every means necessary to stop you from going to Peter’s.

It could also be Peter’s fault. He should’ve never kissed you like he did, he should’ve never made your heart beat with purpose and left a sear where he touched. Doesn’t he know you could never forget it?

It also didn’t help that you were drunk. Not drunk enough to be slamming into walls and slurring words, but enough to stop that part in your brain to hold you back from the things you truly wanted. Like your neighbor.

It had been three days of nothing and that wasn’t Peter’s choice. He respected your decisions too much. If you didn’t want him in your life, he wouldn’t be. Doesn’t he know that just makes you want him more?

Peter wasn’t at the party, you didn’t expect him to be, but you were a little hopeful he’d surprise you and show up. He didn’t. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t on your mind with each shot you took, or when you stopped for pizza with a group of friends, when everyone teased you for pineapple but you knew Peter wouldn’t.

You grabbed him a slice of pepperoni without thinking. Or maybe you were. It was an excuse to talk to him, to see him, to touch him. You could take it home and reheat it in the morning, or you could lean into your excuse of a few too many and knock on his door.

It’s Peter’s fault. He really shouldn’t have kissed you like that, he doesn’t understand his power.

Harsh banging. It’s over your head how late it is, you have important things to do. Like, lay over his body in his bed like you kiss down his neck, or squirm with harsh whimpers when he kisses down yours. You bet he likes to cuddle too, he never did, but Peter seems like he couldn’t get enough of you.

If you couldn’t date Peter you could use him as a rebound, right?

Faster knocking, why isn’t he answering? At your loudest, the door opens. He was sleeping, you could tell by the puffy eyes but you didn’t look at his face too long, no, Peter was in nothing but a pair of boxers.

When the fuck did he get so toned? You would’ve reached out for a light graze, but he stopped you.

“You’re so lucky May’s on overnight duty.” No, you’re lucky because he’s half naked and sleepy, you’ve never seen anyone so tempting. It feels like you’re dying and only he could save you.

You can’t help it, your palm connects with his chest, it’s there longer than a second. It’s less about pushing him aside and more about touching him, and he knows that. Peter talks at a normal volume for the hour, “what are you doing here?”

Your thumb traces his collarbones, “I brought you pizza.” Your breath skips when he turns his head to the side to check the time on the microwave in the kitchen, his jawline ultra toned.

“At one in the morning?” Peter’s amused, you don’t think he would’ve ever been so kind if you disrupted his sleep. You nod, “I was thinking of you.” You raise the small box, just as proof as you really did get him a slice.

Peter takes it with a smile. “Thanks, kid.” You don’t know why, but you really like that one.

“Can I come in?” If he thought all you wanted was to share a midnight snack, he was terribly mistaken. The door widened in response, you made sure to brush against his side, he said nothing.

Following him into the kitchen, you have a flashback. It’s one you want to reenact, maybe if you sit in the same spot he’ll catch the drift. A blue wave of light washes over him when his snack is stored for morning, he looks angelic.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this fascinated with him.

“Now I understand all the song references about refrigerator lights.” Peter looks over his shoulder, his grin makes you feel like you’re flying. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He emerges with two water bottles, cracking the lid on yours and passing it over. His rests on the counter. He doesn’t need water but you do and he’s not about to make you feel singled out.

You think it might be too late. You think you might already be falling.

“I don’t know, but I just get it.” He’s letting you do all the talking, it’s odd, you’re not used to being listened to. If Peter realizes what you’re doing, he says nothing. Maybe you just have to point it out.

You gesture to yourself, the real reason you came over finally announced.

“Do you see where I’m sitting?”

Peter nods, “I do.”

Your fingers tap on the countertop, “remember the last time I sat here?” Peter breathes deep, you wonder if he’s thinking about it right now. “I do.”

You wait. He makes no move. Where’s your kiss?

“Well? Are you gonna do it again?” You pucker for good measure, just in case there was an inkling of uncertainty on his end. You’re making it clear what you want. A faulty smile, you don’t like it one bit.

“No,” at least he sounds sorry about it. But he likes you, he told you himself, why would he deny you? Doesn’t he know how much you need this?

“Why not? If you think this is a trick, it’s not. If you want, I’ll kiss you first.” You jump down but you’re held back by a hand, he’s literally pushing you away. It’s a feeling that causes a tug, you really don’t like it.

“You’re drunk,” Peter follows the statement with your name, he’s not mean but he’s also not going to change his mind.

You scoff, buzzed would be more accurate. “I’m not drunk.”

“Drunk enough you’re allowing yourself to have this conversation.”

He has a very fair point.

“Liquid courage, kiss me?” Peter shakes his head, “you made it clear nothing would happen, so nothing is going to happen.”

You grin, “consider it practice then.” Your words make him frown, “you don’t want this.” Who is he to tell you what you do or don’t want?

“How do you know I don’t want this?”

“Because this isn’t you.”

You feel a tightness in your chest, he doesn’t get to think he knows you more than you do. “You don’t know me, Peter. You just have an idea of me.”

“You’re hurt and confused. I won’t take advantage of that, being mad at me won’t make me change my mind.”

Where was his care coming from? He didn’t care about you this much and neither should Peter. It wasn’t normal, was it? But it’s also not fair to compare Peter to him at every chance, especially because Peter only ever seems to outshine.

“Why didn't you act like this a year ago?” If he truly cares, where was it before?

“You mean when you had a boyfriend?”

Is that why he waited until now to be a friend? Did he think you’d be sad and have weak defense, making it easy for him to get first in line? “Is that what it is? You waited until I was dumped to put on this act and lay it on me while I’m all confused? How long have you had this planned out?”

Your words are like daggers, the things you’re alluding to, he would never do them. Ever.

“Don’t. I’ve always liked you but you had a boyfriend and the last thing on my mind was trying to get with you when it ended. You were so miserable, I just wanted to be a friend or something, but it changed and maybe a little piece of it was me being selfish. I made the first move, several times. I kissed you, I asked you out, I told you I liked you. And you said no. I respect your no, why don’t you?”

You could tell him the truth, tell him that he was right and his love terrified you because you haven’t felt something so raw before in your entire life. Peter wasn’t yours, or anywhere close to it. It shouldn’t be natural to feel magnetized to him.

You could tell him the truth, but you’re better at hiding behind false walls.

“I liked you better when you didn’t care about me.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

He knows you’re lying but he won’t make you admit it, no, he’ll push you into your corner of lies until you force your way out with the truth. Peter Parker will not chase you.

Would it be wrong to push him so far away he wouldn’t let you chase him too?

“You have a superiority complex. That’s why you can’t find a girlfriend, or any friend really. You think you’re better than everyone else and it’s a natural repellent.” You back up towards the door, you spit words as they come to your mind.

“I was willing to do it. I was willing to give you a shot but you ruined it for yourself. You’re going to look back on this moment and regret it.”

Peter really doesn’t care for your dramatics. It’s impressive he can one, handle it and two, make you check yourself. “Regret not taking advantage of a drunk girl? Is that what you’re insinuating?”

“No! I just meant that… I don’t know what I mean, Peter! I don’t know anything and you’re not helping in the slightest and everything about you makes me want to fucking cry or scream or, or… I don’t know.” Your voice trails, it’s the most honest you’ve been in weeks.

“I don’t know anything anymore, Peter.”

Everything you’ve ever thought about love has been wrong.

He made you feel flightless. But Peter, Peter made you feel free. Peter made you feel like you were flying at full speed, like the wind washes over your cheeks so harshly you’re in a permanent grin. You’ve never seen the world from this high up, in this much color, it’s never been so beautiful.

The flight is amazing, thinking about stopping it hurts you. How would it feel to be on the ground again, to walk around, to be without wings and treetops and colors and wind? How would it feel to be without Peter?

Would it feel like an agonizing death?

Would your wings ever be patchable again?

Questions that make you realize the closer you get to him, the harder you’ll hit the ground. You’re okay with falling, you’re able to brace yourself the best way you can. But will Peter be there to catch your landing?

It looks like he’s trying to stop himself from hugging you, it’s a good thing he is. He might be thinking you’d yell or push him away, you think you’d just cry.

Peter looks tired, and more than just because you woke him up. You wonder if it’s because he’s up late every other night, you want to ask him about the routine and why he broke it tonight. You won’t.

Your back hits the door, there was only one thing you were sure of, it had been a chain reaction since. This was Peter’s fault, he’s the one that kissed you. He started it.

“You shouldn't have kissed me, you really, really shouldn’t have. You’ve fucked this all up, penis.”

Peter’s tired of the blame. “You came here,” he ends it with your name, like he’s pleading.

It’s annoying, at least you tell yourself it is. If you can replace feelings with antonyms you’ll trick your brain and you’ll be right on track to hating him again and only seeing him as a void object.

You open the door, it’s the last time you’ll allow yourself to look at his face.

It’s Peter’s fault.

“Because you made me want to.”

WEEK FIVE.

It’s way too early for the hysteric buzz of a mosquito in your ear, yet, it still sings to you while you’re locking your front door.

“Good morning.”

You nod your head, “penis.”

And just like that, the mosquito’s squashed.

You yawn so harshly that you rub at your jaw. You’re unable to sleep and miserable. You’ve tried everything under the moon and stars, nothing worked. Staring up at the ceiling you tried to count sheep but they kept turning into the tiny freckles that dotted over Peter’s cheeks.

It wasn’t fair to keep thinking about him, you’re doing your part. You cut him out and you decided to hate him. You’re just finding out that that’s not how it works.

3:02, you hear his window.

3:04, your eyes finally get heavy.

3:07, you’re dozing off.

3:10, you’re asleep.

It wasn’t fair.

Three nights later, It’s 3:02 in the morning and a window slams shut. This time, it isn’t your neighbors. This time, it was your own. You should be scared, but you don’t feel threatened, you’re curious. You pull your head from under your pillow.

Spider-Man is at the foot of your bed, his shoulder hits the window frame when he pulls his mask off. He’s racing for air, he looks beat up, a gash crossed over his chest.

If you didn’t have as much distain as you did, you’d be slightly shocked.

“If you get blood on my carpet, I will fucking kill you.”

Peter must be dizzy, because he’s imagining you in his room.

"Seriously, if you get blood on my carpet I'll have you come over tomorrow and scrub it out with your toothbrush."

Peter tries to swallow, it's hard to do. His head feels like a brick, his hands won't stop shaking.

“Hey, pesky pete, I mean it. Get the fuck outta here.”

When he holds his eyes close, then opens them, he still sees you there. Peter looks down at his hands, turning them back and forth. They go in and out of focus, it’s dizzying, at one point he has five hands.

He says your name questioningly, it’s hard to get words off his tongue, his brain is moving too slow. “Yup, that’s me. Now get out.” Peter touches his chest, it’s beet red. His shoulder is killing him, he stumbles and slams into the wall- now you’re sitting up in bed.

“Peter, are you okay?” It’s pure worry, the act is dropped for a second, he’s not normal. He’s not answering, you think he’s trying but he can’t bring himself to speak, he’s lagging in real time. One foot hits the floor, the rest of you perched in your bed keeping an eye on his frame.

“Peter.” You need his focus on you.

He presses his hand to his wound, a last ditch effort to protect your carpet. Then, he hits the floor. You jump up, “Peter? Peter, are you okay? Peter,” he’s passed out and tore up to shreds. Every bit of you wants to scoop him into your lap and hold him tight, but instead, you get to work.

Peter flies up from the bed gasping for air, his face is cold and wet. The source is your twisted grin above him, a water glass held tightly.

“Oh, good. You’re up.”

Peter pats his chest, a blur of last night follows. He sits up in a haste, a tug in his side makes him cradle it, you both wince at the same time.

“Yeah, I tried doing the best I could, but I wasn’t sure if there was something under that.. Or how to take it off. You probably have significant damage.”

“Thanks.” His mouth is dry and his voice crackly, it sends a zing up your spine. Peter’s never felt so weak after a rough night, his head is pounding and he can feel the crunch of dried blood under his suit.

“Can I get some of that or are you still punishing me?” The only reason you give him the rest of the glass is because you like Spider-Man. He has a job to do, Peter on the other hand, could die of thirst.

“You passed out on me last night.”

Peter chugs the glass, you almost think about getting him another. “I did.”

You nod, “I had to lug you up here, you’re extremely heavy when you’re dead weight.” He almost smiles at the imagery, instead he glances down and realizes you did your best attempt at working on the gashes over his chest and arms through the spandex.

Even as he was passed out and rendered useless. You must not hate him as much as you say. It's still nice to know he's not getting special treatment because of who he is, not even Spider-Man could make you like Peter.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have excellent bedside manner?”

“Oh no, anything I could do to make it worse?”

“I think another water and some advil might kill me.”

“Perfect, coming right up.”

Peter takes another ten minutes before trying to sit up, “I should go home and shower.” Your hand gently pushes his shoulder back down, “easy, tiger. May isn’t home and you’re not about to turn your shower into a personal slip and slide.”

Before you could regret the words, “if you want a shower, you’re doing it here.” He paused under your touch, scared you made the wrong impression, your eyes widened. “Not with me or anything, I just meant so you’d have someone around.”

Peter doesn’t care how it has to get done, he wants the suit and dried blood off him. He nods his head and sits up a little slower before tugging at his neckline. You look away for a minute, unsure where to settle your eyes.

“Help me get my arm out?” Your hands pull at the suit, his arm escapes, it’s covered in small knicks. It’s a subconscious move, you gently tap the cuts with your thumb. Peering into his eyes you hold a frown.

“Does it hurt?”

Peter feels like you might kiss his marks. “Not really, it’s mostly my side.”

You rub his chest, “you got a gash right here.” It’s over his heart.

“Guess we’re twinsies now.”

If he wasn’t in pain, you’d slap his arm for the comment. Instead, you watch him carefully remove the red and blue until he’s left in his boxers. You do your best to keep your eyes on his face, Peter looks amused.

“You’re trying really hard not to look at me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Parker.” You offer a hand to pull him up, he accepts. A slow stand, his back’s more defined than his front, you almost bite your fist. Peter has the same shower as you, but you still explain how to use it. And allow him to use your products.

“Got it.” The tap is turned on, the water hits against the ceramic. You make no effort to move, instead watching for a moment. Peter’s fingers pull at the waistline of his briefs, your eyes dart right to them.

“You know, this is the part where most people leave.” It’s teasing.

“I just wanted to make sure you got in okay, it’s a high step.” It’s a quarter of the truth.

“I’ll be alright, I’ve been doing this alone for a few years.” Peter says it like it’s an inside joke, but it just makes you feel sad. He’s never had someone to be there for him, or patch up his wounds, or make sure he’s okay to shower. You wonder how many times he’s passed out on his bedroom floor with no one to drag him to bed.

“You okay?” A hand on your skin wakes you back up, clearing your mind of Peter.

You nod, it was a flash of empathy. You couldn’t imagine what it’s like for him.

“I’m just sorry you’ve had to do it all alone. It doesn’t seem fair, Spider-Man does nothing but take care of other people. He should have someone to take care of him for a change.”

It may sound like you’re insinuating, especially the way he looks at you when he responds.

“Yeah. That’d be nice.”

Seconds tick, it’s getting a little weird, mostly because you want to tackle him into the shower and race your mouth over every inch of skin. You clear your throat, “you want me to get you anything from your place?”

“Sure. Go shopping for me.”

You use the copied key May left for you several years ago when you tended to some plants while her and Peter went on vacation, and it feels weird being in their home alone. It’s too quiet, the Parker’s are expressive in everything they do, when they're not around everything lacks passion.

Peter’s bedroom is almost the same as it was the last time you were in it, the same furniture but moved around. His posters looked updated and there’s a few extra awards he’s tucked away, you frown, he should be proud of his achievements and hang them high.

A new picture of him and May from last year, you ignore the part of your brain that says he has very kissable cheeks. His closet is clean and he’s made it easy for you to search around, each drawer is dedicated to a different clothing and everything that should be hung up, is.

It’s something you hadn’t considered, but a man taking care of his laundry creates an entire new standard.

Peter handed over the control when you said to get what you wanted, that means you can dress him how you please. And wouldn’t he look yummy in sweatpants and a white shirt? You don’t see how he couldn’t, it’s the male version of a sundress.

Arms full of cotton, you tap at the bathroom door with your foot. You shout over the water, “I have your clothes.” It’s muffled but you hear him and gently push the door open, a faint outline on the shower curtain suddenly makes you shy.

“They’re right here,” patting the clothes for good measure. Peter shoots out a ‘thanks!’ and you slowly back out until you’re sitting patiently on your bed, listening closely when the tap turns off. If he goes falling, you’re busting the door down.

No struggles, at least not until he emerges. Peter’s fine, but you’re speechless and choked. There was no one you punished but yourself with the outfit, the t-shirt is tight on his arms and the sweatpants hug his hips just right.

“I feel human again, thanks, kid.” You turn on manual breathing mode and distantly nod, his biceps are stretching the cotton, you lick your lips subconsciously. “No problem.” You watch a water droplet fall from his hair to his shoulder, your eyes stay hooked in place, his arms flexed when he dried it with the towel you lended him.

“Where should I put this?” You point to your hamper, if he put it anywhere else you’d be half tempted to sniff it. “Did you tell May I was here?” You nod and finally find strength to talk to him, “yeah. I sent her a text last night, I wasn’t sure of her Spider-Man knowledge so it was a little cryptic.” You take a breath and choose honesty, no doubt he’d get a third degree.

“I think she interpreted it as us hooking up.” Another breath, “I did not correct her.”

Peter has a boyish smile spread, it squeezes your chest, you want him in your hold more than anything. “Nice.” You scream and cheer and thank your lucky stars when he sits next to you. He used your products, but he still smells like Peter. You want to stuff your nose into his shirt and breathe him in until you physically can’t.

“May knows, by the way.” You nod absentmindedly, “anyone else?” “A couple friends.” You almost make a quip like ‘wow, you have friends?’ but you really can’t find it in you to pretend to hate him anymore. Especially when he almost died on your floor and all you wanted to do was tell him that you were sorry and you were mostly in love with him.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Do the webs come out of you?” Peter lightly laughs, it’s always the same question off the bat. “No. I make a special web fluid and I have these bracelet kind of things to shoot them out.”

“Oh. Cool.” You’re hiding the burn in your lower stomach at the thought of him over his desk creating a new form of technology. He’s so fucking smart it’s unfair, he’s too smart for his own good.

He’s grinning at you, “is it?” You can’t stop staring at his mouth, “yeah.” You’d do anything to kiss him again, the last time you truly felt alive was when his lips were on yours. “Any other questions?” There’s one. But it’s not about Spider-Man.

“Not really.” Your interest could be explored later, right now, all you needed was him. Peter finds it surprising, “I think you are the least curious person to find out about this.” You shrug, shifting your body more towards him. Peter rejected you last time but if you move like he did when he kissed you, if you move in slow for the kill, you might just get your way.

“Give me the cliff notes.” Peter starts ticking them off with his fingers, while he’s distracted you move in closer. “Bit by a radioactive spider when I was fifteen. Heightened senses plus a cool sixth sense where I can sense danger. Super strength-” You stop listening right there, your eyes are all over his build, no fucking wonder he’s a contender for worlds fittest man.

You shuffle in, your knee brushes his thigh, if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. You thank the sweatpants, the material too thick to give you away. “-Oh, and I stopped needing my glasses which is pretty cool. I think that’s pretty much it, but if you want me to expand on anyth…”

Now or never.

You push up and straddle Peter’s waist, his hands immediately hold your hips. You lean down, his grip tightens. Peter mumbles out your name, you answer with a slow kiss. Your fingers drag through his hair, curls wrap themselves around your fingers, you hold them tight. When Peter licks your bottom lip, when Peter takes control, you need to feel every bit of him.

Your hands fall down his neck and over his shoulders, then they fall to his arms, your nails lightly drag up the skin. A hum from Peter, your lower stomach clenches, you answer with a roll of your hips, he sighs into your mouth. You drag your palms over his chest, his heart is at the same pace as yours.

You break the kiss, both of you breathing fast, it doesn’t last. You kiss over his jawline, you can’t hold it in, you can’t fucking stop yourself. “You’re so fucking hot,” wet marks are dotted down his neck. “I wanna take you right here, I wanna make you feel so good.” Another grind, this time, Peter moves with you, it pulls a moan from the back of your throat. The favor returned with a hickey at the bottom of his neck, it sent him falling into your hold.

You’re kissing anywhere you can reach, “you gotta stop,” it comes out in a puff. “You’re killing me here.” Too bad, not so sad, you’re latched onto his mouth again, this time, you tug at the bottom of his shirt, it takes three times before you realize he’s not catching the hint and you pull it up yourself.

You study him when it goes flying, his eyes are more pupil than brown, his lips pouty and pulling a red hue. “Lay back,” he does, you lean over him, you’re marking up his collarbones while his hand has a fistful of your hair. Then… the kisses get lower, you're grazing over his chest, delicate brushes across the semi-healed cuts, you must’ve blocked out the advanced healing perk.

Your hand trails over his side, you soak in the grooves and muscle, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his sweatpants. Peter’s breathing hitches, you keep teasing, then bring your lower body into play. Bumps and grinds have Peter panting in your mouth, you pull back, even as he’s heaving for air, Peter’s trying to follow your kiss.

Your fingers slip further under the elastic, holding his gaze when you tell him about your intentions. “I wanna suck you off.”

There’s a pause, then he sits up on his elbows.

“Does this mean you want to be my girlfriend?” Does it? You don’t think so. You just want him, you want his mouth and his hands and his body intertwined with yours. But to fall into him and have him see all your worst parts, to have him hold your heart between his hands and trust he’d take care of it is too much.

“No.”

He’s sad. It’s not just something you think, it’s something you know. Your heart tumbles with his face. You want to hug him, you try, but he tossed you off his lap like nothing.

“May told me to get groceries today, so I should probably head out.” You swallow tightly, you’re not liking how this is sounding. “Are you mad at me?” You feel nothing but shame at his sigh, it’s debilitating when you hear his cutthroat tone. “I’m not a fucking rebound.” But he wanted to be. He wanted this. He wanted you.

Peter doesn’t use the f word, not ever.

“Whether I’m your girlfriend or sucking your dick, you’d still be a rebound.” Silence rings around the room. Peter’s voice is tight when he answers you.

“Is that all you think of me? Just a rebound?”

You don’t know how to be honest with him. You never have. “Would I be wrong?”

“Very.” It’s clipped. You’ve never heard Peter with an edge and you don’t like it. You really don’t like being on the other side of his frustration. He’s only ever been soft and kind with you, you can’t handle any more change in your life. You need Peter to keep being Peter.

You were so scared of losing him you went and filled his head up with words of affirmation, used your mouth on him, then turned around and shut him down. If this is only a fraction of how it stings when Peter’s upset you don’t know if you could handle more. You’ve never felt Peter’s cold shoulder before and it hurts.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” It’s bullshit, Peter can sense it too. “You did.” You chew on your bottom lip, “I did, but not like that.” Peter seems taller than normal when he’s standing over you, you can’t look him in the face, it’s nothing but being mortified. You really put your foot in your mouth.

“Do you even like me or are you just horny?” You can’t allow yourself to answer him.

“I’m an idiot.” Your face turns in, Peter’s laughing at himself. “I’m such an idiot. I really thought you liked me. I thought you were trying to fight it but no, that was just me daydreaming.” You’re looking up at him but he’s already standing at the door with his shirt on and suit tucked under his arm.

“You don’t like me. You never did and now I’m trying to make pieces fit where they don’t.” He’s staring right into your eyes, he says it louder, he’s saying it for himself. “I’m not a rebound.”

“You’ve never been properly loved and it shows.”

And that’s the most brutal thing he could’ve ever said to you. Your lower lip trembles with the tears pricking at your eyes, he started it and you can’t stop it.

“I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much, Peter.”

No surprises there. “Yeah, I know.” He sounds just as defeated.

When he leaves you cry harder for Peter than you ever did him, and that says something. But you’re not listening.

WEEK SIX.

You finally broke down and told everything to Natalie Greene. She held you in her arms while you cried about losing what you could’ve had. “I’m sure he’ll come around babe, he likes you a lot.” You shake your head, “not anymore. He hasn’t answered any of my texts in three days.”

You can at least give yourself the benefit of trying to do damage control. He wouldn’t let you. You’d sent a flurry of texts, each one more apologetic than the next, begging him for a chance to see you but he refused.

You think you broke him.

“Have you tried talking to him? In person?” You shake your head, he doesn’t want to talk to you. You blew everything up and for the first time you really hate it. Two weeks ago you were begging for this but now you just feel terrible.

“Nat, this is nothing like what I had with him and I don’t know what that means.” Your friend hugged you close, “it means you love him more than you ever did him.” You swallow hard, you knew the truth but it was different hearing it.

It doesn’t matter anymore. You ruined it and Peter won’t talk to you anymore.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face, Nat. He was fucking crushed. It’s like…” You take in a sharp breath, you’ve been beating yourself up over it since he walked out. “It’s like I used him.” Natalie Greene doesn’t bullshit but she’s still soft as ever with her response, it’s purred out while her acrylics scratch your back. “You did.”

She’s your best friend. She should be on your side. “But I didn’t! I just-”

“Yeah, you did. You knew how he felt about you and you said no so he stopped trying. Then you showed up drunk and threw yourself at him, he said no and you got all butthurt. Then he comes over and somehow passes out on your floor and you offer him a blowjob.”

Well, when she puts it like that…

“Of course he’s going to think you flipped your script, you’re the one who kept pushing after you told him no.” Peter’s words echo in your mind, ‘I respect your no, so why don’t you?’ Because you can’t allow yourself to have him, that’s why. But… you already do, don’t you? Or, you did.

“He’s gonna wreck me, Nat. He already is.”

“Because you’re fighting it. I get it, babe, I’ve been where you are a dozen times. But you don’t get over heartbreak by hiding from love. I know it’s Peter Parker and he’s been your enemy since you were eight, but no matter how fast you try to run, he’s right there matching your stride.”

You sniff into her arm, she smells like lavender and it makes you snuggle further. “I think I’ve always liked him.” You could finally admit it. Natalie’s been there for months, years possibly. “I know. You always talk about him.”

You scrunch your eyebrows, “no I don’t.” Natalie thinks you must’ve said a funny joke because she’s laughing like it. “Yeah you do. Sure, it might have been mean things but if you truly hate someone you don’t notice everything they do.”

You noticed everything about Peter and made sure to fill Natalie Greene in on the gossip.

Like when he cut his hair way too short in middle school and his curls disappeared for months.

When he slipped in mashed potatoes in the cafeteria and fumbled until he could steady himself.

When his cheeks flamed pink because he forgot to silence his phone during a test and the Game of Thrones theme song blasted through the room as he awkwardly tried to silence the call.

Then there’s the time he stuttered when giving an answer in biology because Lindsey Snipes was twirling her hair at him. A small tug in your stomach, the answer suddenly clear to why you’ve always hated her too.

And when he bumped a friend's coke all over his notebook and he just watched with an open mouth while all his hard work was ruined.

When he stumbled up the steps.

When he hit his head with his locker.

When he stepped on his glasses.

When he was tackled in flag football.

When he tripped over his shoelace.

When he got glue in his hair.

When he winced while dissecting a frog.

When he cracked his phone because he dropped it and a guy on the football team kicked it clear across the cafeteria while he laughed. That one didn’t make you laugh. That one made you so angry you made a point to tell Kristina, said player's girlfriend, so she could give him a well deserved tongue lashing. And not the good kind.

When he fell asleep at the library and had a red mark on his cheek to prove it.

When he spit milk everywhere because the one he grabbed was expired.

When, no matter what, each time you met his eyes he’d send you a smile. And how each time there was something that made you want to give it back.

“Natalie,” you can hear it in your voice. It’s dangerous. It’s terrifying.

It’s worth it.

“I think I’m in love with Peter Parker.”

Natalie Greene and you had carefully conducted Operation: Get Peter Back.

Step one: Tell him, (IN PERSON) how you feel.

Step two: See above.

There were no other steps. Natalie Greene told you that’s all you could do.

One day later you knocked at his door before you could lose the small amount of courage you had, it’s soft enough you hope it’s unnoticeable, you could quit and say you tried. Your heartbeat’s in the bottom of your throat, your palms itch as you rub them over your shirt.

A smidge of relief, no one heard you. You’re about to quietly escape, May doesn’t let you off that easily. She’s surprised when your name comes from her mouth, you wonder how much she knows. “Hi, May. Is Peter home?” She’s got a weak poker face, her eyes dart to the side of the door before she’s smiling sweetly.

“Sorry, honey. He’s out with some friends.” You know he’s right behind the wood. You speak up, you want to be sure he hears you too. “Can I leave you with a message?” May stands straighter, she wasn’t expecting this. “Of course.”

“Can you tell him I’m sorry? And that I’ve been way too selfish and mean and a complete and utter fucking bitch to him for no good reason for nine years? Can you tell him that he’s the last person I ever wanted to hurt like this and that I really want to say it to his face?”

May ignores the colorful language and you’re thankful for it. Her eyes trail to the side again, she smiles softly. “I’ll let him know.” There’s no need, he already knows and you both know it. His answer lies in the fact that he’s allowing May to keep up the charade. You don’t know if Peter is bad at forgiveness or just that you don’t deserve it.

“Thanks, May.” You watch the door slowly close, when there's just a crack left you stop it with a hand. “He’s… He’s okay, right?” Your heart thumped slowly, you’re reading her face like it’s your job, you need to know he’s okay.

A tight nod. “He’s okay.” You can breathe a little better. “Good.”

You stare at his door for another two minutes after it shuts.

Is this an asshole move? Yes.

Is this worse than what you’ve already done? Possibly.

Peter still wasn’t talking to you and you only had one card to pull. He was home, but he wasn’t answering your texts. You think it’s time to fight fire with fire. You’re standing by his apartment door, and loudly talk into your phone. No one’s on the other side, but he doesn’t know that.

“Hello? Yes, I’m looking for J. Jonah Jameson?” Your eyes twitch to his door, nothing. You speak a little louder. “I understand he’s busy. Well I just… Uh huh, right, I understand, yes ma’am. Is he interested in Spider-Man’s identity?”

You hear something drop inside his apartment.

“Yeah, I know who Spider-Man is.” Peter swings the door open, your phone is ripped from your hand. He glares down at the screen, you’re not connected to anyone. “That’s a low move.” You lightly shrug, “did you expect anything more than that?”

A scoff, “with you? No.” Your lips twitch, you have to fight the frown. You catch his arm when he turns around, there’s no trying, he’s an unstoppable force, you’re moving with him. “I’m sorry! Peter, please! I’m sorry, I am so so sorry and I need you, okay? I need you to not be mad at me.”

Was that honesty? Were you actually being honest with him? Your shoes squeak when he stops pulling you, you’re looking at him desperately searching his face for emotion. There is none. “You’re not a rebound. Not at all. I should’ve never called you one.”

There’s a lot you’ve done to Peter you never should’ve done. Maybe it’s time you start owning up to it.

“I should’ve never said you were a rebound, I shouldn’t have kissed you, I shouldn’t have shown up here drunk, I shouldn’t have kept coming back for more after I told you no. I shouldn’t have ignored you for nine years, I shouldn’t have shut you out when I was eight, I shouldn’t have hurt you.”

Peter’s not saying anything and you don’t mind. You need to say this, you need him to know.

“I shouldn’t have hurt you. I meant what I told May. You’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt like this. You’re Peter. You’re nice, you’re warming, you’re always positive and you buy me pizza without making fun of me and you sign off on donation slips and you let me rip your notebooks apart and you bake me things.”

You blink through your tears. “You were there when I really needed you and you are anything but a fucking rebound to me.” Your chest feels tight, “you’re so good to me, even when I don’t deserve it. I really don’t deserve it now but I really fucking need you, Peter. I know I went on this whole speech thing where Spider-Man needs someone but-”

“I’m here.” Relief fills you, Peter has you tucked into his chest with his arms around you. “I’m right here, okay?” It’s the selflessness that really gets you. You’ve been nothing but mean and standoffish but Peter’s hugging you because you need it.

But really, it’s because he knows he was right. You do like him. You like him more than you’re willing to admit to him yet.

“Can you catch popcorn with your mouth?”

Peter tosses a piece up and catches it with his eyes closed. You grumble and throw your own at him, he also catches that with his eyes closed.

“Okay, turn off the powers and try again.” He laughs at you, “it doesn’t work like that.” You huff, “well, make it.” Peter tosses a piece up and dodges it, it satisfies you. “Ha. Loser normy.”

“Did you just call me a normy?”

“You’re just a boring normal person, I hate to tell you, but it’s true.”

There’s been a brief pause in the actual relationship aspect of your friendship. There’s no more kissing, but you’d really like there to be. You think Peter’s starting to sweat you out and you have no issues with it. If he wants you to make the first move, you’ll do it.

But it’s all in the timing.

“Did I ever tell you that six weeks ago Nat said she’d do heroin with me?” Popcorn spills on the couch, Peter’s darting his eyes over your arms looking for track marks. “We didn’t do it! She said that if I still felt miserable after six weeks she’d do it with me.”

“Miserable? What, about the breakup?”

“Yeah,” you shove a handful of buttery styrofoam into your mouth. For the first time in weeks it doesn’t hurt to talk about. It’s not even a little sore, there’s no bitterness or resentment. There’s nothing there. It’s pure indifference.

You pushed Peter away because you didn’t want him to be a rebound, you didn’t want to use him to get over someone else. But you haven’t thought of him since… since… you can’t remember the last time you actually thought of him.

But when you think of Peter your heart races, your palms feel warm, your stomach flutters. His kisses ignite you. You wake up in the morning and think of him, you wake up every night to make sure he’s home and go right back to sleep. You walk with him every morning, you wave and smile at school, you come over everyday.

You’re in love with Peter and only Peter.

“I don’t know why I ever thought he was worth that.”

Peter has the answer, it’s muffled around popcorn. “Cause you loved him.” You pick a piece off Peter’s shirt and crunch down on it. “Yeah, I don’t think I knew what love was. How embarrassing.”

He smiles. Your eyes catch the screen again, you shuffle more towards Peter, then stop yourself. “Is it weird if we cuddle?” Peter rips the popcorn bowl between you away, he’s never cuddled with a girl before but he’d be an idiot to say no.

“Weird for who? Weird for me? Weird for us?” Peter doesn’t care about the answer. “Those are rhetorical, just come cuddle me.” It’s all you needed, you press up against him and wait, he’s not moving. Fine with you, you halfway lay on him, head on his chest. You’ve never been this close to him, you’ve kissed him and you’ve made a bold move that backfired, but you’ve never been this soft or domesticated with him.

Peter’s heart is drumming a little fast, you make no comment. Yours is beating at the same rate.

You expected Peter to still like you but you haven’t asked. After what happened maybe he decided you’d be better friends. It wasn’t talked out, you both skimmed over what happened and started hanging out like nothing happened.

But it did and you’re glad. It puts things in perspective. It made you realize how much you like him. You just need to know if it made him feel the opposite.

“Do you still like me?”

“I’m sorry, I’ve never cuddled with anyone before so I don’t really know what-”

“No, I mean do you still like me?” Peter knows what you mean. He doesn’t know how you think he doesn’t. “Of course I do.” You peek up at him, he’s already got eyes on you, it makes your cheeks feel warm.

“Even after I was shitty to you?” Peter laughs, a hard laugh, you move with his jostles. “Honey, you’ve been giving me shit for nine years, it hasn’t slowed me down one bit.”

Honey. It has a nice ring to it, you like it. But the one you’ve always liked hasn’t ever been uttered with endearment and you really want it, you want it to come from Peter’s voice and have it wrap around your ears while your heart bubbles up with giddiness.

“Can you call me sweetheart?”

“Is that the one you like?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

It’s so much sweeter than you imagined.

You’re not sure what details May knows, but she knows you hurt her nephew. She hasn’t said anything but you can feel her watching your back every time you’re with Peter. Her tone isn’t clipped and she’s just as welcoming as before, but you can feel it. You can sense that she isn’t fully trusting.

May had stared at you for a good thirty seconds when she caught you spread across Peter’s lap while he studied. You tried to focus on his rubix cube in your hand, even going as far to prove you’re not a threat by giving him a light kiss on his cheek. She didn’t seem convinced, but she left it alone.

Two days ago she burst into Peter’s room and made it very clear that when you were over the door stays open. Peter tried to fight it, he said that you were just hanging out but she was dead serious, going as far as saying that if he couldn’t handle her rules, he wasn’t allowed to have company.

Peter didn’t tell you that you were the only person with this rule, but you knew you were.

“I just don’t get why you’re making such a big deal out of this, May. She’s just-” You weren’t going to be involved, you weren’t going to give May more ammo.

“Door stays open, Peter. If May says it, we follow it.” Peter doesn’t agree with you, you can tell by the way he nods his head and clicks his pen. When did you start being able to read him? And why do you like it so much?

But the real hint was when you weren’t welcome to stay for dinner the previous night. There’s never been a time May denied you food, most of the times she’d come over begging you to join so they wouldn’t have so many leftovers. But last night she just suggested you go home and prepare for the next day.

You watched Peter’s jaw clench in frustration, then you sweetened him up with a smile and told him you were planning on leaving anyway. You don’t think he bought it. You needed to talk to May, you needed to know she was okay with you and Peter, if she wasn’t- no matter how hard it would hurt, you’d stay away from Peter.

May is all he has and you’re not going to put any strain on their relationship. Not over you.

Peter was staying late at school for math club and it’s your perfect opportunity. A light knock, May answers almost instantly. She’s surprised but she melts into a smile, it’s lacking something. “Oh! Peter isn’t here.”

“I know. I wanted to talk to you.” Now you’ve got her interest. May opens the door wide, you go straight to the kitchen for the batch of cookies Peter made you last night. You can taste the love in them.

“May, I need you to level with me here. Do you have a problem with me dating Peter?” There’s a beat of silence, “are you dating him?” You swallow a bite, “not yet. I needed to make sure it was okay with you.”

“You’re asking for my blessing?” You slightly nod. “More or less. You’ve been really nice but I feel like there’s a little tension. I feel like you don’t totally trust me with him.” Confirmation, but it doesn’t hurt like you think.

“Peter’s a sensitive boy. He does everything a hundred and ten percent. If you want him, he’ll give you more than his all. Can you say the same?” Can you? Yes. It’s without a doubt. You want him and only him and you’d lay your life on the line. There’s been so much wasted time, Peter could’ve been your first but you were too stubborn.

Peter wasn’t your first, but with everything in you he’s going to be your last.

“Yes. I’m in love with him. I love him more than I ever loved anyone, I love him more than I thought was possible. I want to be there for him, I want to support him through the bad days and I want to be by his side for the good ones. I want him and only him, I was just too dumb to see it before.”

May’s mouth etches into a smile, this time it reaches her eyes and she’s hugging you. A whisper in your ear, “I always knew this is how it would end.” You grin into her shoulder, “really?”

“Peter’s nothing but determined. It was only a matter of time.” You know what that means. “Are you giving me your blessing?” She laughs and pulls you closer, “you always had it. I just needed to know you were serious.”

Time passes quickly, you’re three cookies down and you’re itching for a fourth. You swear he puts crack in them. You talk animatedly with May, you’re fawning over her own love story and hoping that that would be your future with Peter. When the door unlocks you perk up, you can’t bite back your smile or tapping feet.

“Whatcha doing here? Hi May.” Your arms spread wide, Peter fills them. “I came to talk to May, I stayed to see your handsome face.” How did you once see it as annoying? How did you once find his smile revolting? He’s the prettiest person you’ve ever seen. You want to kiss him more than anything, May gave you the green light, you press up on your toes to give him a peck.

“I missed you. How was math club? Were you the smartest hunk there? Don’t answer, I already know it’s a yes.” Peter’s still reeling from the kiss but he powers through. “I wouldn’t be too confident about that, sweetheart.” Your heart clenches, him saying it makes your knees feel weak. “Mathew Ryan is in the club with me.”

“I hate blondes. I only like cuties with brown, curly hair by the name of Peter Parker.” His eyes squint at you, it makes you feel warm, you hide back in his chest. May’s watching with heart eyes, she’s never seen you so happy. “You’re laying it on thick today. You must need something.”

“Just you, handsome.” Okay, you might be laying it on a little thick, but you can’t hold it in. You just love him too much, it’s uncontainable. He’s perfect. “May, she’s up to something. I don’t trust it.” His aunt keeps grinning. “I do.”

Peter pats your back, “if you trust it, I guess I have to, too.” You squeeze him tight and mumble into his chest, he still hears you. “What, now?” You asked if you could talk to him, it had him looking down and giving you his full attention.

“What’s up?” Your eyes shoot to his door, message received. Peter leaves a small gap in the door, you pause and poke your head out to his aunt. “Can I shut the door?” A three second count, “permission granted.” It clicks shut, you spin, you have all his attention.

“You said I was never properly loved.”

Peter feels his heart drop, it was the nastiest thing he could ever say to you. Part of him wished you had forgotten but that’s not something that’s forgettable, that’s something that sticks with you forever. He never meant to say it, it was something he spewed out to make you feel just as bad but that’s not who he is and that’s not what he does and he really should’ve apologized way before now.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it. It was a shitty thing to say and I-”

“You weren’t wrong. I haven’t been properly loved. But I’d like for you to show me how it feels.”

Your pulse rises with his silence, Peter holds out a steady hand. “Just to be clear, you’re asking me-”

“If you’d be my boyfriend.”

You let out a soft groan, you’re spinning in his hold and pushing at his arms. “Peter!” He doesn’t care, your feet lightly dangle, you’re laughing with him. “Nuh uh, you’re not allowed to push me away anymore, I’m your boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. Peter Parker is your boyfriend. What a rush of feelings, there’s a new one you haven’t felt before. Pride. You’re prideful that Peter’s your boyfriend, you’ve got the greatest person in the world tethered to your hip and he’s going absolutely nowhere. Ever.

“I’ve been waiting for this day since I was fifteen.” A flurry of kisses over your face, “holy wow, you’re my girlfriend. I can kiss you whenever I want, and I can touch you! Oh, and now I always have someone to eat pizza with. And the science museum! No one ever wants to go to the science museum with me!”

“Holy wow?” You giggle at a string of kisses to your jawline, you never knew someone would be so excited at the thought of dating you. “Wow, wow, wowie, my girlfriend’s a hottie.” You push him away with a disgusted sound, “that’s so gross, Peter.”

“Oops, let me repent with a kiss.”

It’s the fireworks again. This time they’re blinding. Your back burns with his touch, you want to swallow him whole. It’s not lacking passion, but it’s soft. You reach for his shirt collar when he pulls away, this time he laughs.

“I was going to ask if I was a bad kisser but-”

“No.” This time you’re keeping him chained to you with your hands behind his neck. “Best kisser ever,” you give him a chaste one to prove it. “My handsome baby.” Your waist is squeezed, “you’re too nice.” He doesn’t understand, he’ll never be able to understand.

“I wasted so much time, Peter. You were right there and I was so… so stupid that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. I have no idea why you like me, I was so mean and cruel and I never appreciated you.”

Peter has secrets too. “I was friendly, but I didn’t like you. You were super aggressive and made a point to say something mean… but then Ben died.” The oxygen runs from your lungs, it wasn’t something you thought about, you thought he didn’t either.

It was brutal watching him and May go through that. You remember that night vividly, the night May got the call. You could hear her screams from your room, it’s something you’ll never forget. Her wails, the way she begged to God that it was all a dream. You knew what happened before you could see them and the one thing you thought of in that moment was Peter.

You can still remember the panic you felt, the overwhelming urge to make sure he was okay. You remember your feet skidding across the carpet, the cold hardwood in the hall, the way your middle knuckle split you were knocking so hard.

‘Peter,’ it’s all you had to say. Then you were scooping him into your arms, holding him tight as he sobbed. You kept telling him you were sorry, you brushed his hair back and rubbed circles on his back. You kept him tucked into your neck while he cried, you didn’t tell him it was okay, nothing about that night was okay. You remember holding in your own tears, you swallowed them down and held Peter all night.

Fourteen hours. You had him curled up with you while you kept telling him sorry, you had stayed up all night with him and took care of him. You got him water, you made him eat a snack, you did what you could while they slept. You did laundry, you did the dishes, you made cookies.

Peter’s uncle died and you made him cookies.

Your boyfriend dumped you and Peter made you cookies.

You basically lived there for a week, you slept with Peter, held him with each bout of sadness, and never ever told him it was okay. You held his hand at the funeral and kissed him on the back of it before he gave his eulogy. You made sure he was minimally functioning, you tried to keep him busy with dumb tasks.

After two weeks he didn’t need you anymore and you slowly faded away until it settled into how it used to be. You think Peter liked it a little, not everything had to change because Ben died. But you never went out of your way to hurt him anymore, he didn’t need your help in that department. What used to be petty attacks turned into silence and gentle name calling.

But you were there for him when he needed it. Just how he was with you.

“You pulled an Uncle Ben on me.”

A twitch in his lips, “you were there for me when my world ended, I had to return the favor.” It’s not fair for him to compare the two. “I was broken up with, I didn’t have my-”

“Devastation comes in all forms. It’s not about whos is worse, it’s about being there for someone you care about.” He doesn’t hide his smile, “even if they claim to hate you for all eternity.”

“I don’t hate you anymore.”

“Spoiler alert, you never did.”

You’ve been caught. Peter knew the whole time, he was just waiting on you. “Are you sure you don’t hate me? Cause I’ve been really terrible to you the last month.” Your boyfriend rolls his eyes before giving you a big hug.

“That’s because you’re stubborn and didn’t want to admit you liked me.” You poke his ribs, “you knew?”

“Sweetheart, I knew the day you said I had very pretty eyes.”

“Yeah, you do. Let me see them again, boyfriend.”

The last six weeks you detested love and what it brings. The disaster, the heartbreak, the pain. You never thought you’d love again and definitely not with the neighbor you hated. But right there, in his room, you felt your heart crack open and ooze onto his bedroom floor.

And you watched love begin again.

“Anything for you, girlfriend.”

----

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sacharinee · 10 months

Note

hi m!!! what do you think about bf!pete getting his wisdom teeth out? and the reader taking care of him?? hed be so funny lmao xxD

-🧸

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader w/c: 750 a/n: hi anon!! thnk u for requesting i had sm fun writing this! :)

you’re sat at the dentist's office, cooped up in those uncomfortable chairs while you anxiously waited for your boyfriend’s surgery to finish.

when peter ranted and moaned nonstop over his constant toothache, may decided enough was enough, and took it upon herself to set an appointment for her nephew. he wasn’t too keen on the idea. peter wasn’t afraid of anything ninety-nine percent of the time. dentists, however, wasn’t one of them.

“can’t you stay here with me?”

“stay? baby, no they’re gonna be drilling in your teeth.”

“but i-”

“and it’s gonna be bloody and nasty and i don’t wanna have to see all that.”

you turn towards him, only to come face to face with the boy’s horrified look, his eyes are wide and skin pale, mouth open in shock. you cringe at your response.

“but,” you stand, “you’re gonna do amazing, you’re gonna sit here and let the dentist do his magic.” you smile and lean down to plant a sweet kiss on his forehead.

“y/n/n, wait but-” you drop his hand on the way out, “bye, love you baby! be good!”

“y/n!”

two hours later swing by when a woman in navy scrubs comes to get you, announcing that peter is out of surgery.

you knew that he would be high out of his mind on laughing gas, you just didn’t think it would be this bad.

when you enter, the dentist is off to the side, looking over charts, packing a care bag for his patient.

peter’s head lulls towards your touch on his shoulder and slowly blinks at your presence.

“hi baby, how you feeling?” you give him a beaming smile.

your boyfriend does his best to muster the same grin, but the amount of gauze in his mouth makes his rosy cheeks puff out, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth.

peter takes a moment to stare at you, “woaahh” he languidly slurs his words, “you’re so pretty.”

you giggle at the comment when the boy gasps in horror, “wait, wait, i have a girlfriend, and she’s-” he looks up at you worriedly and slaps his forehead, “i’m in trouble.”

you can’t help but let out a laugh, he’s so dopey.

your fingers touch the bottom of his chin gently and lift his head, “i’m your girlfriend, silly.”

a loud gasp escapes peter as his face turns ecstatic, “get out!” you giggle at his reaction, the dentist glances over at you two and offers an admiring smile.

“so do we have sex?”

the awkward silence in the room kills you.

your face blushes, as you shake your head and clear your throat, “peter, no.”

“no?!” he sighs in disappointment, “aw man.” your boyfriend pouts at the floor, “what have i been doing with my life.”

“oh my god, pete,” when the dentist turns away, you whisper and offer him a shrug, “sometimes we do.”

the delight on his face returns and his eyes go wide, “really?!”

the boy seriously has no filter.

as you’re packing his things, peter pauses and pokes his cheeks, “wait y/n,” he pauses, “my face kinda feels weird.”

you look around and hand him a mirror from the counter, “oh my god…” peter gingerly touches his face as you kneel down at him, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“my face… it’s so fat!” he’s got tears in his eyes and whining with a jutted bottom lip, “y/n,” sniffle. “will-” sniffle. “will you still love me if my face is so fat?”

you roll your eyes and smile at his antics, “of course, i would.”

he seems pleased with your answer because he’s back to smiling. you go back to packing his things. “hey, mr dentist,” he woozily slurs, the gauze is practically spilling out his mouth, “d’you know i’m spider-man?”

you mentally facepalm at his obliviousness and mutter, “jesus christ.”

you turn to the older man who’s chuckling at his mental state and shrug, “he also thinks he’s luke skywalker from star wars.”

“but i am!-” “okay bug boy, lets go.”

“where we going?”

“home, sweetie.”

he gasps eagerly and raises his eyebrows at you, “to have sex?”

“oh my god.”

soon after the dentist explains and hands you everything he needs to recover, you guide peter to the car.

he’s extremely dramatic.

he’s got his hands around your shoulders, dragging himself on the floor, acting like he can’t walk - which he definitely can.

“peter, i know you can walk. c’mon help me out,” you beg.

“no, i can’t" he moans, "carry me,” he demands.

“what? no,”

“why not?”

“because you’re too heavy.”

and he’s crying all over again, “i knew it! you hate me 'cause you think my face is too fat!”

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parkerpeter24 · 4 months

Text

quiet temptations

pairing ➳ tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

word count ➳ 2.3k

warnings ➳ SMUT. characters are 18+ and MINORS DNI. this contains depictions of fingering, oral (m recieving). fluff, peter being sweet but also horny-

summary ➳ you’re awfully quiet but peter can’t seem to take that.

“is everything alright?” peter mumbled as he laid beside you. your back was to him, his arm wrapped around you, “you’re not talking.”

the bed you were laying on was warm, a thin blanket over the sheets because you got extra cold during the winters and a quilt that covered you and peter both. your fingers danced against the wall adjacent to the bed, feeling the cold plaster contrasting peter’s own fingertips that danced on your waist, under your sweatshirt.

“you gonna talk?” he placed a kiss on your hair that was loosely tucked behind your ear, making it fall over your eyes. chuckling when he heard you groan and push the lock of hair back in its original place, “so.. no?”

you sighed softly.

“that’s alright.” peter responded, feeling as if he was just talking to himself now, “we don’t need to talk if you don’t want to.”

the sound of your hum was accompanied by peter’s hand gliding under your sweatshirt and caressing your stomach. he was careful, as if you were made up of glass, watching out for any signs of refusal on your face but your features looked solemn, unchanging.

he sighed, not being able to hold in his concern, “alright, just nod if everything is okay…”

he waited for you and surely you did nod after a few seconds, making peter’s worries dissipate.

“what’s gotten you so quiet?” he tried to get you to talk, his fingers taking a detour from trailing upwards, making contact with the elastic hem of your sweatpants– which originally belonged to him, “‘cause one way or another, i’m gonna hear that pretty voice.”

you felt your face heat up but peter still didn’t notice any change in your expression. if he couldn’t see the blinking of your eyes and sense changing breathing pattern, he’d have assumed you were asleep.

“at least tell me you want this.” he mumbled into your neck, pressing his lips against your exposed skin.

“yeah.” you mumbled and peter wasted no time in sliding his hand under the fabric of your lower, arm holding your body against him. you let out a soft breath as his fingers travelled lower. his middle finger slid your panties to the side before making contact with the skin. he pressed soft kisses to your neck before his nimble finger delved into your folds.

a leg pressed between both of yours, parting your thighs as he nestled a warm hand against your sex.

you let out a soft sound, clutching onto the quilt. his finger sank deeper until he found the earliest bit of your arousal and pulled it out, wanting to spread the wetness everywhere.

his finger travelled up to your clit, circling around it and you bit your lip when he fucked it back into you, knuckle deep. he groaned softly, loving the way your muscles almost clenched his finger.

he repeated his actions a few more times until you couldn’t hold back the soft needy moans that he beyond waited to hear. you felt his teeth sink into the skin of your neck before he sucked that spot, soothing the sting from the bite.

you moaned when he curled his finger, trying to search for a spot that would make your sounds louder. his finger dipped into you inch by inch every time, showing he was in no hurry.

peter’s arm was strongly keeping you pressed against himself as you started to arch your back. he could tell you were getting needy but he wished to hear something from you– even though he was loving the musical moans you were letting out.

he pressed his ring finger into the mix, adding it when he pumped them into you the next time. his face pressed further into your hair when you tried to get away. he could tell you needed more– you were writhing, trying to grind your hips into his already hard cock– but he kept going at the slowest pace he could. one brush of his fingers against your most intimate spot and your lips parted in a loud gasp.

you tried to arch your back which only led to peter’s arm pressing harder against your abdomen. his lips were pressed together, letting out soft hums which accompanied each one of your moans as if encouraging you.

he pulled out both his fingers, fucking in again and then back out and in again until it became a faster rhythm. squelching sounds filled the mostly silent room as his leg parted yours even further.

peter rolled his fingers into you continuously, the heel of his palm nudging against your clit which had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, “pete-” you gasped, “m-more.”

the desperation in your voice made peter grind into your ass. his fingers fucked you faster, holding your legs apart, curling them into you just right until you were jutting your hips, chasing your high.

“good girl.” peter mumbled, “keep it up, baby.”

his fingers moved continuously in and out of you. he could tell you were close with the way you clenched his fingers, however before the coil in your abdomen burst, his fingers pulled out of you, a soft wet sound following it– completely opposite to the loud whine that left your mouth.

“oh my god- why’d you stop?!”

“now you wanna talk?” he mumbled into your hair.

you felt your cheeks heating up further than they were. you hid your face into the pillow, but peter wasn’t letting that happen. he tugged at your chin with his free hand, “oh, baby. trust me, i want you to cum.”

you whined, biting your lip softly at his dirty words. you wondered if peter came prepared for this because no other day would you have expected such filthy words escaping his lips. he’d never done so before in all the times you two were intimate.

he turned you around gently, slowly pressing his forehead against yours as he brought up his fingers to his own lips, sucking them clean. he moaned at the taste as his tongue swirled around the digits, sending a wave of shivers up your spine and arousal to your core.

the second his fingers were released from between his soft, warm lips, your own pair replaced them, tasting remnants of yourself on his lips. you moaned softly, pressing your chest up against his.

“want you.” you breathed out heavily.

peter only shook his head, “not until you tell me what’s with the silence.”

“huh-” your brows pulled together in confusion, “you’re really not gonna-”

“first you tell me what happened.” he pecked your lips once, twice, and a few more times.

you sighed, pursing your lips as you tried to formulate what to say to him– or rather how.

when peter saw you struggle, opening your mouth and then closing it, he brushed a thumb against your cheek, “it’s okay, you should take your time.”

you nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand transfer to your cheek as your eyes met. his chocolate brown eyes swam with what you could identify as pure adoration.

“until then…” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss you.

soft at first, it escalated when he brushed his tongue past your lips, quickly finding yours in a slow yet passionate dance. peter pressed you against the mattress, handling the covers to stay over your bodies.

he wasted no time in moving his lips to your neck, hands going to hold your thighs apart as his thumb now brushed against your clothed thigh, kneading gently as his teeth nipped at your collarbone.

you gasped softly, letting him do as he pleased with you. as you held the back of his head with one hand, the soft, brunette sea of hair engulfed your fingers.

peter moved his hands to the hem of your sweatshirt, wasting no time in sliding it up past your chest, careful enough that you weren’t exposed to the coldness of the room. he dived under the quilt, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, the other being knead in the palm of his fingers.

you gasped as peter’s tongue flicked the bundle of nerves, your stomach flush against his torso.

you could feel his lips curl into a smirk before he switched, rolling your sensitive left nipple between his slender fingers as he licked and pulled the right one in his mouth.

you were getting fidgety, squirming under peter as he felt your grip tighten on his locks, not enough to hurt. he moaned against your skin, placing a few kisses right under your breast, moving lower, now seeming in a hurry.

“pete-” you almost pleaded, finding your voice breathy.

his hands travelled under the pair of sweatpants, making quick work of sliding them down as he traced your thighs, down to your knees before you felt the material slide off you.

you lifted the quilt slightly, just wanting to get a glimpse of peter. the few rays of light that touched him weren’t fast enough to warn you as his lips pressed to the wet patch over your panties. you gasped and threw your head back.

you felt peter’s hot breath and the muffled sound of his moan from under the blanket. he pushed your thighs apart, diving deeper as his nose pressed against your clit, the fabric thick enough to make you grit your teeth, wanting his lips and tongue on you.

maybe peter heard the clenching of your teeth or the way that your hand found home in the tufts of his hair again but he was eagerly pushing down the material past your legs throwing it down to the floor.

you felt peter’s forearms lift your thighs as he shuffled closer to your core, licking up a bold stripe across your folds. your back arched but peter’s grip was keeping you against him.

for a moment you heard him groan as he retracted, “what’s wrong?” you breathed out, supporting yourself up on your elbows.

you almost laughed when his hand creeped out from under the quilt, holding his fogged up glasses out for you to take. with a chuckle, you held the frame between your fingers, quickly placing them to the bedside table.

as you laid your back against the bed, peter was quick to wrap his lips around your clit. you let out a moan as he licked and sucked on the bundle of nerves.

he held onto your thighs, keeping you firm against his lips as he explored the very intimate part of you. his tongue darted out, poking at your entrance, but not giving you enough time to notice that as he slid the muscle deeper against your walls.

you moaned, pressing a hand over your mouth to muffle the lewdest sound you’ve ever made. the bridge of his nose poked against your clit and peter only pressed deeper as his tongue delved in and out of you. it seemed as if he would see no tomorrow if he stopped making out with your dripping hole.

you arched your back, “pete- oh god-”

you felt him hum against you, sending your jaw drop open as you finally felt the pleasure crash all over your body. your toes curled and eyes rolled to the back of your head. you could swear this was the hardest you’d ever come before as goosebumps covered your arms.

you let out a sigh as peter helped you ride out your high, keeping up his ministrations. finally stopping, he placed a soft kiss over your clit, sending your body flinching at the action.

when peter climbed out from under the blanket, surely he looked like he needed to clean up. his chin dripping with your arousal and forehead all sweaty from being so long under the warm quilt.

“you need to wash your face.” you chuckled, brushing back a few locks of hair that were sticking to his forehead.

“and you need to tell me what’s wrong.” he mumbled and you sat up, adjusting your sweatshirt back down.

“it’s nothing-”

“and don’t you dare say it’s nothing.” he sat up as well, beside you, wiping mouth with the sleeve of his shirt– that thing was going in the washing machine the second this conversation was over.

“it’s… just… exams and stuff. you know how anxious i get.” you sighed.

“i know… but you don’t have to! there’s still a week left before-”

“okay, that may seem like a long time but trust me, it’s not.” you looked up at him, meeting the brown eyes that held concern, “i’m sorry, i… i was just overwhelmed. didn’t feel like talking.” you almost pouted, making peter pull you against his chest as he hugged you. you in turn wrapped your arms around his waist.

“trust me, i know how stressful exams can be. but it’s nothing you haven’t been through before.” he placed a soft kiss against your hair, making you hug him even tighter, “you got this, beautiful.”

“yeah, yeah, yeah. easy for you to say.”

he chuckled, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you’re like, i don’t know, the smartest guy of our whole generation.” you mumbled against his shoulder.

peter shrugged at that comment, “hey, even i watch youtube videos for help sometimes.”

“yeah, but you grasp every concept so quickly, like you don’t even have to try.” you looked up at him, blinking when you realised how that must have sounded, “...that was supposed to be a compliment.”

“you’re adorable.” peter chuckled, “how about we study together? i’ll make a time table; and don’t worry, it’s not going to be super chaotic, just a simple time table; and we can figure it out together. how’s that sound?”

you smiled at him, feeling your heart swell at the amount of his care, “sounds perfect.”

his smile mirrored yours, “thanks for telling me.”

you gave him a grin.

“now since i told you, can we fuc-”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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peterparkerslefttesticle · 2 years

Text

Kinktober 2022

Prompt: Dry Humping

Pairing: Peter Parker x afab!reader

Summary: Peter doesn’t think he could come from just dry humping, you prove him wrong.

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

Authors note: personally i thought of tasm!peter while writing this but any of them can work. this is basically 2am thoughts, not edited.

“i’m sorry, but there’s no fucking way someone could make me come from dry humping me.” peter splutters a laugh.

for the last hour, the two of you had been laughing over your tragedy of a love life.

“i mean, you totally would after a while, but he came after like two minutes of me grinding on him,” you wipes the tears from your eyes. “honestly it’s kinda flattering.” getting up to grab a drink from the fridge, peter narrows his eyes at you.

“i mean, i don’t think i could come from dry humping. like i don’t care how hot the girl is, there’s no way,” he laughs again.

“i don’t know parker,”

“what do you mean you don’t know? grinding with clothes on doesn’t even feel that good,”

“i bet i could make you come,” the room falls silent, and glancing at peter you realise his baffled look. “what? i wasn’t saying i will, i was saying i could.” you nonchalantly resume your position on the sofa, pulling open the tab of your soda

“sorry to bruise your ego, but there’s literally no way. maybe after like an hour, but i doubt you’d make it that long without begging me to fuck you,” it was your turn to be surprised. you’d never felt like this before, or at least not because of peter.

well, of course there was that time he walked out of the shower dripping, towel hung low. oh and there was that time he gave you a hickey, as a dare of course. there’s no way peter fucking parker, your best friend, was turning you on. right?

“so you’re saying, if i got on top of you right now, there’s no way you’d come.” you’re smirk was so strong it almost hurt your cheek.

“that’s exactly what i’m saying”

“then let’s test out your theory”

before he can even blink, you’ve swung a leg over his lap, now straddling him.

“you can tell me if you want me to get off.” you stare at each other, almost daring the other to break.

“i mean, if this is the only way we can see who’s right, we have to do it i guess,” his eyes are glassy and pupils blown out. beneath your cunt a small twitch bellows from beneath his pants.

you hop off his lap, shimmying down your jeans. peters look of bewilderment dialled up even more, if that was even possible.

“it’s not fair with jeans on,” you strip down to a pair of pink panties, lace trimming the edges.

“what? that’s cheating…” peter says barely above a whisper as you reach for the loop of his belt.

now both pants-less, you sit back on his lap, and he hisses as your heat sits on the thin layer between his cock

“it’s not too late to admit that you would come from dry humping” you taunt, pushing down slightly.

“never.”

you start slow, moving rhythmically along his dick, feeling every vein through the thin undergarments

peters eyes close and he throws his head back

“shit. i wasn’t expecting it to feel like this.” a particularly well placed grind makes him thrust up, hitting your clit just right

an almost pornographic moan leaves your chest, making peter moan in turn.

your grinding becomes faster, harder, and in tandem with peters thrusts

“sure you won’t come?” you trail your nails over his chest, asking for permission to take his shirt off.

he pulls it off in one swift movement before answering. “i told you. never.” his brown locks stick to his forehead, a thin layer of sweat sheathing his skin

the now accessible skin of his chest is now free real estate, and the trailing of your nails, gently drifting over his nipples down to his happy trail seems to be torturing him.

it annoys you though that he won’t look at you, opting to throw his head back, eyes closed.

it does however, give you an idea

you practically rip your shirt off, stiff nipples pointing straight up.

“pete, look at me,”

and now he can’t keep his eyes off you.

as if he’s never seen tits before, his eyes boggle as you continue sliding your cunt up and down.

a mixture of his precum and your wetness aids these movements, and peter thinks he could die happily right now.

but he remembers why this is all happening in the first place.

he can’t come

but he needs to come.

the slick, dirty sounds that come from below, the smell, the sensation, it’s all too much for poor pete.

“touch me,” you whisper, attempting to maintain dominance, but it’s getting hard to focus on anything with the coil building up in your stomach

peters shaky hands palm your tits, pinching your nipples and caressing your side.

“i can’t.. s’ too much..” he struggles to speak as your grinding gets deeper, shifting angles slightly.

“what’s too much. spit it out baby,”

“m’ gonna cum,” peters never felt this before. he’s been with girls. he’s fucked girls. and yet nothing has felt this overwhelming, this overstimulating, this good.

“come for me peter. i want you to come on my pussy.”

a warm burst hits your core as you spasm on his dick. your simultaneous orgasms hit like a tonne of bricks. the thick spurts of cum soak your underwear, more than previously thought possible.

you rest your head on peters shoulder, gasping for air.

“told you so,”

“fuck you,”

“next time.”

#marvel #smut #peter parker smut #spiderman smut #marvel smut #mcu #mcu smut #avengers smut #andrew garfield #andrew garfield smut #tasm smut #tasm #the amazing spider-man #tom holland #tom holland smut #mcu peter parker #toby maguire #the avengers

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spidernerdsblog · 1 year

Text

flexible

A/N : another blurb inspired by a prank video. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.

Summary : you prank your boyfriend by putting him in the positions he puts you in during sex.

Pairing : Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings : mature content

You were hanging out at Peter’s dorm room, sitting on the couch and scrolling through your social media accounts.

“Hey whatcha doing?” Peter asks, walking into the living room. You look up from your phone.

“Nothing, just watching this tiktok on some special yoga poses. Apparently only women can do these very easily.” It was a lie in the video the girlfriend was pranking her boyfriend by putting him in the positions he puts her in during sex.

“That’s rubbish, it just depends on your body’s flexibility.” Peter says.

“You think you’re flexible enough to do these?” a mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you raise an eyebrow baiting him.

“Babe look who you’re talking to. I’m spiderman, I'm flexible AF.” He states placing his hands on his hips with an air of confidence

Oh this is gonna be fun you thought, putting away your phone and standing up from the couch. “Ok let’s see how flexible you are.”

“Yeah, let's do it!” He says excitedly pumping his fist in the air.

“For the first pose you need to lie down on your back.” You instruct as Peter goes to lie down on the floor.

“Now bring your legs up” you tell him and he follows by lifting his legs up. “Yeah, just like that. Now spread them wide all the way”

“Like this?” He spreads his legs wide.

“Yeah and then grab the back of your thighs and pull up.” Holding by the thighs Peter pulls his legs up to his chest and you bite your lip to hide a smile.

“Do you feel it?” You ask.

“Kinda.” He replies.

God he’s so innocent you thought laughing silently to yourself deciding to carry on with the next position.

“For the next pose, turn on your side and bend your knees.” Peter follows your directions and turns on his left side. “Now lift the top leg up.”

He lifts his right leg up as you hum in approval. “Yeah, as high as you can.”

“Ooh I can feel this!” He tells and you purse your lips to keep the giggle from slipping out of you.

“Good now stand up.”

“This one is a bit rough, it's called the bunny hop. So you gotta squat down to your feet.” You explain as he squats down.

“Yeah great, now jump up and down.” Peter starts to hop on his feet. “No, no your feet should be on the ground just move your hips” he does as told and you swear to god watching him do that sent you on the verge of losing all control and laughing out like a maniac.

You quickly schooled your features and said. “Ok so for the last one get on the couch on your knees. Grab on the backrest.”

Peter gets on the couch kneeling and holds onto the backrest as you lift his left leg.

“Now lift this leg up and stick your ass out.” Just then Harry decides to stroll into the living room.

“Looking great Parker.” He opens the refrigerator to grab a beer bottle. “You guys taking a trip to the wild side? Should have asked me would’ve been happy to help.” He says while opening the bottle. Understanding finally dawned upon Peter as he jumped out of the couch with a mortified expression and you burst out laughing.

“Oh my god Y/N! You’re such an evil.” He cried out as he thought of all the sex positions you made him do.

“You don’t have a problem when you put me in those positions.” You tease both of your faces red yours from laughing too hard, his from embarrassment as he stomped back to his room.

“Always wanted to peg that ass.” Harry says, eyes focused at the open door of Peter’s room.

“Shut up Harry!” Peter yells from his room. Chuckling Harry takes a sip of his beer and saunters off to stand beside you, handing you another bottle.

“Pussy.” He mumbles and turns to you with a sultry look. “The offer still stands, you know. Just like I said before you’re welcome to watch…” he eyes you up and down. “Or join.”

Your lips curl into a smirk as you regard him with narrowed eyes. There have been quite a few times where Harry had openly admitted he’s attracted to both of you suggesting you guys should try doing threesome. “I’ll give it a thought.” You say clinking your bottle to his and take a sip.

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker blurb #peter parker fanfiction #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter x reader #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield smut #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker x you #harry osborn #spiderman

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vivwritesfics · 1 year

Text

"I Know"

Peter Parker has the best girlfriend ever

1.1K

Peter Parker x Reader

I've been MIA for the longest time because the inspo just hasn't been there. But I've gotten away from university for a few days, and this is what came from my peaceful time alone

"I'm so sorry, baby," said Peter. He stood on top of a building, watching a bank robbery happening opposite. A bag full of snacks and two pairs of his favourite pyjamas lay discarded beside him, and Peter made a mental note to pick it up later. The wind was biting, but Peter didn’t care. His attention was split evenly between his girlfriend and the bank robbery.

This was not the first time he had flaked on date night, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. He and his girlfriend both knew. But Peter Parker had the most understanding girlfriend in the world.

"It's okay, Pete," she said. Peter could picture her now, snuggled up in her bed, waiting to change into a pair of his pyjamas, with her snack basket filled and her laptop loaded up with a Christmas movie. "Go... save the world."

It wasn't quite saving the world, but she made Peter smile. She always made Peter smile. Y/N was the most understanding person in the world. "I'll be at yours as soon as I can. Don't open the chocolate without me."

After that, Peter had no choice but to hang up. The bank robbery had started to wrap up and Peter had to stop them. He put his phone in his bag, pulled his mask over his face, and swung down to the bank. "You guys have ruined my date night."

“What the fuck?” One of the bank robbers dropped his white bag filled with green notes and swung a bat at Peter.

It was cartoon-y, how these robbers were behaving. The white bags, the notes flying all over the place. Their ski masks weren’t masks at all, but unfolded beanies with the eyeholes cut out. “Wait, can I get a picture? My girlfriend is going to love this.”

***

Y/N’s family loved Peter. Somehow, he’d never been late to dinner with her parents. Either criminals decided to take the day off, to let Peter have his dinner, or for once somebody else was cleaning up the city in his stead.

But not tonight.

“I’ll be maybe ten minutes late,” he said as he swung through the city. His suit was discarded, but his tie was still around his neck.

Y/N had her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she put in a pair of earrings. Dinners like these were a big deal to her parents. The whole family dressed up fancy, all of her sibling’s partners were invited and they had at least three courses. “Pete, babe, it’s fine. I’ll cover you.” And, as she said it, she didn’t sound disappointed at all.

Peter really had the best girlfriend in the world. “Holy shit, I love you,” he said, only just noticing his tie. But it was too late to remove it now. “Please send me the cover story.”

They said their goodbyes (with Y/N begging him to stay safe) and went to do their things. Peter fought the bad guy, managing to keep his rather expensive tie intact. Y/N finished getting dressed for dinner and went downstairs to greet her parents.

Her siblings and their partners were already downstairs, drinks in their hands.

“There she is!” Called her brother as Y/N stepped into the room. He checked his watch and feigned a frown. “Not like that boyfriend of yours to be late, is it?”

With her hands clasped behind her back, Y/N rocked on her heels. “Actually, Peters gonna be late today,” she said, hoping they weren’t going to ask anymore questions.

“That Parker boy is never late,” her father said, “What’s holding him up?”

Before now, Y/N hadn’t thought of an excuse for Peter. She had just hoped they wouldn’t ask, and then he could’ve come up with his own backstory. (Peter had gotten good at that).

“Uhh…His house… caught fire? And his aunt… is in the hospital… with death?” oh yeah no this was not going well. “Oh! And the tire on his bike popped.”

Yes. That was very believable.

But nobody questioned it as Y/N sat beside her sister and her sister’s girlfriend. “He’ll be here soon.”

Her eyes shifted to the floor, which only made everything more believable. She pulled out her phone and sent Peter the cover story, just seconds before the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” She shouted, jumping up.

Racing to the front door, Y/N pulled it open to see Peter stood there, still sorting out his suit. “You are so lucky nobody else answered the door,” she said and buttoned up his shirt correctly. “I sent you over the cover story,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.

Pulling him into the house, Y/N pushed him towards her father. “Hello, Mr L/N! Sorry, I’m late, my tire burst.”

Suddenly, Y/N’s mother came running out of the kitchen. “Peter, my dear!” She shouted and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about May and your house. You can stay here for as long as you need!” She cried, running her fingers through her hair. He looked at Y/N with her brows furrowed. ‘Go with it’, she mimed. “How about we all go and visit May as soon as we’re finished with dinner?”

“Oh! Please, Mrs L/N. That’s not necessary.” Peter pulled away from his girlfriend’s mother and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Can I have a word with you upstairs?” He asked her, and Y/N allowed herself to be pulled up to her bedroom.

As soon as the door was shut Y/N was wrapped around him. “I missed you,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Missed me so much you told your family that May was in the hospital?”

“And that your house burnt down,” she said quietly, laying her head on his chest. “I know I said I’d cover for you, but I’m not very good at it, Pete.” Her arms snaked around his middle, sitting beneath his blazer.

Peter’s phone suddenly buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned once he looked at it. “Oh god, what is it?” Asked Y/N, looking up at Peter with wide eyes.

“Baby, I love you but, I’ve got to go. I swear this’ll-”

“It’s okay, Peter, I know.”

Peter kissed her. It was slow, yet oh so intense. One of those kisses that makes you gasp. “I have the best girlfriend in the world.”

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x female reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker x reader smut #andrew garfield #andrew garfield imagine #spider-man #the amazing spider man

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ptergwen · 2 years

Note

starks daughter reader x peter parker, making out? like the avengers ask jarvis to show what’s happening in her room and they see what’s happening?

ask box | taglist | blurb masterlist | main masterlist

w/c: 719

warnings: 18+, explicit language, implied smut

a/n: i made one little change so it’s friday instead of jarvis but everything else is the same so i hope you don’t mind and that you enjoy! also don’t forget to join my new taglist y’all mwah

“y/n…”

you’re kissing down peter’s neck, lips leaving goosebumps on his skin. he’s practically writhing underneath you, and you’ve hardly even done anything.

yet.

“y/n, baby.”

you grip the collar of peter’s shirt in both hands and bring your lips to the shell of his ear.

“yes, peter?”

“c’mon, we can’t. we’re… we’re gonna be late for dinner.”

“wouldn’t you rather eat me instead?”

your teeth sink into peter’s earlobe, a hand traveling down to the bottom of his shirt. peter throws his head back and closes his eyes, trying to resist you, but he can’t. you’re his weakness.

“fuck, y/n/n. don’t do this to me.”

“what, is there something else you want me to do to you?”

you start to pull peter’s shirt over his head, but he grabs both your hands in one of his.

“we’ve gotta go join the others. you know how important team dinners are to your dad.”

“and you know how much i despise them.”

“yeah, but i don’t understand why. i think they’re a sweet idea.”

“i think they suck.”

“how come?”

“steve makes the blandest food, thor has literally zero table manners, and everyone’s always asking me questions. way too many questions.”

“you mean trying to get to know you?”

“it’s the fucking worst.”

peter chuckles and pulls you in by your waist.

“you really are a stark.”

“am i? because the leader of the pack came up with this whole team dinner thing.”

“your dad just wants everyone to spend more time together.”

“well, i just wanna spend time with you.”

you peck peter’s lips. peter smiles and secures his arms around your waist.

“at least wanda’s cooking tonight. means the food will actually have some flavor.”

“yippee.”

peter lets out a breath.

“i’d be more than happy to eat you for dessert, but dinner first, okay?”

“or i could be your appetizer.”

your lips attack peter’s before he can respond. despite himself, he gives in this time, kissing back with just as much fervor.

“what’s taking them so long? the chicken paprikash is almost done.”

“looks delish, wanda. i’ve never had sokovian food before.”

“oh, thank you, scott. you’ll love it.”

“sure, sure. i bet i will. i just, y’know… it won’t be spicy, will it?”

sam elbows bucky’s arm.

“dude thinks paprika is spicy.”

“and i thought i was bad.”

scott frowns.

“what? it’s a spice, isn’t it?”

tony enters the dining room with a grin, rubbing his hands together.

“hey, gang. smells good in here, little red.”

“thanks, tony. i’m just about ready to serve it. we’re waiting on the kids.”

“oh? they’re still not down yet?”

“nope,” bruce sighs. “i saw them sneaking up to y/n’s room earlier,” natasha smirks. “dang, you didn’t have to rat them out,” sam remarks.

“like you wouldn’t do the same.”

“fair.”

“stop teasing, you two,” steve chastises. “no, no. this is true. i passed little stark and the spiderling on the stairs,” thor says.

tony glares at thor.

“so you all knew they were canoodling, and no one thought to tell me?”

“uh oh, drama,” scott whispers to wanda. “canoodling?” natasha snorts.

steve shoots them both looks.

“i’m sure they’re on their way down, tony.”

“yeah? let’s find out.”

tony double taps his glasses. his artificial intelligence comes to life.

“friday, show me y/n.”

“on it, boss.”

friday taps into her system that’s installed in your room and broadcasts the feed to tony’s glasses. he immediately regrets asking her to do so when he sees what you’re up to. yours and peter’s tongues are quite literally down each other’s throats, and peter is trying to take your bra off, but struggling to unhook it.

tony rips off his glasses and tosses them onto the dining room table. he shudders, shaking his head to rid his mind of the image. natasha puts on tony’s glasses to see for herself.

“yup. they’re canoodling, alright.”

“for real? this i’ve gotta see.”

“wait your turn, wilson.”

tony snatches his glasses back from natasha.

“absolutely not. no one will be taking turns watching my daughter and parker swap spit. have some class, will you?”

“yeah, have some class!” thor chimes in through a mouthful of bread wanda had put on the table.

wanda joins everyone with a serving plate of food.

“chicken paprikash, anyone?”

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @ellebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker writing #peter parker imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #marvel #mcu #tom holland writing

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hanasnx · 6 months

Text

closure

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: sexual content | booty calling spider-man :)

PETER PARKER doesn't understand why he keeps letting you do this to him. Over and over again you tell him friendship is all you want, yet at the late hours of the night— since you know he's already up— you ask if he can afford a break. Like an idiot, he swings by. Doesn't even get the chance to take off the suit before you're shoving him down into a seat, straddling him to rub yourself all over his bulge.

"Hey, easy," he tells you, "you're gonna leave a wet spot." To protest you, his gloved hands cup the plush flesh of your backside, lifting you over him. That spider-strength has you weak in the knees, eagerly latching onto his neck over the cloth. A gasp emits from him as he maneuvers his erection from the confines of his suit and you mouth at his pulse point.

"Want- you, Spider. Need you." At the invoke of that nickname, he lulls his head back and you bite onto him in your enthusiasm. A delicious and low groan pours from his throat, from both the sensation and anticipation of being inside you again. Obediently, he lowers you, nudging your entrance with the head of his cock until he feels a give. You suck in a breath to feel that stretch, no one stretches you like Peter does.

"Fuck," he drags out the word, slowly reintroducing you to his every inch. Impatiently, you push down, as if you could ever hope to overpower him. The man has lifted buses. "Wait a second, baby, wait," His fingers dig into your skin, warning you that you're going too quick for your sake.

"I can't wait any longer, you took so long getting here," you whine, burying your nose into the crook of his shoulder. You can smell his sweat through it, the musk of recent exercise, prowling the streets of Manhattan looking for trouble. "Just fuck me already?"

Pete can't believe this is working on him. Yet again bowing to your whims because he's that desperate for your attention, that desperate for your touch. He can't lie, your impetuous begging for him and his dick strokes more than his ego, length twitching while half-seated inside you. "You want it that bad?" his tone betrays his hope.

"Yes! Yes, please, Pete," With your plea, your grip on him inflects with your syllables, rutting your body against him for any kind of friction, while his halt remains infallible. No matter how you wiggle, he won't let you sink further. At first it was to keep you from hurting yourself, now it's because he likes hearing your bargain for him. Those addicting lips glide up to his ear, and he can feel your breath on the shell of it through his mask. "Need my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

"You're gonna pull that card? Seriously?" his indignant question is adversely punctuated with a buck up into you and you cry out. It got you fucking wet. It spurs him on, working himself up to a steady pace as he fucks you. He can hear the sounds of the city through the open window, if sirens flew by right now he's not sure he'd have the strength to leave you.

Putty in his hands, your body acts as fluid as he uses it, and you're so grateful you reached out to him. Fucking a superhero is thrilling enough, but fucking Spider-Man has a perk you can't pass up. That spider bite may have gifted an extra couple inches to his cock, but you're more interested in his power to fuck you like a sex toy. Along for the ride, you bounce on him because he's moving you. Like you're nothing. Out of instinct, your lips clumsily find his on the cloth as you brush noses. Your tongue peeks out, the felt drying the tip and his lips shift under your touch.

Breathless and amused, he asks, "Are you trying to french me through the mask again?"

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p3terparker · 7 months

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.

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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year

Text

Bringing Sexy Back

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: Peter tries and fails to seduce you

Masterlist

To kick off the summer, Tony organized a group vacation to a resort at “one of his less crowded islands”, as he put it. The team sat together on the quinjet while Tony gave out the room assignments to everyone, ending with you and Peter.

“Parker and my beloved offspring, you’re in the penthouse suit with me. But don’t worry, you guys have your own room. It’s just connected to mine with thin walls and a door I can easily break down.” Tony said with a calm smile.

“Thanks, dad.” You smiled back at him before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Once you were gone, Sam leaned over to him.

“Wow, I feel for you, man. You really got the short end of the stick.” Sam said and patted Peters back.

“Short? I’m 5’8. That’s average height.” Peter defended himself.

“For a woman.” Sam snorted. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” Peter wondered.

“I mean you finally get to spend the night with your girlfriend and her dad is in the next room. That means the only way you’re getting laid is if you crawl up a chicken's ass and wait.” Sam replied, making everyone laugh at Peters's expense.

“Oh. That’s gotta hurt.” Bruce laughed. “It hurt me and it wasn’t even directed at me.”

“That’s called a ricochet.” Natasha said. “Also done by bullets and Taylor Swifts tears.”

“I understood that reference.” Steve chimed in.

“Did you?” Peter asked skeptically, making Steve’s smile fall.

“That’s the one that sings “Single Ladies”, right?” He whispered to Natasha.

“Uh huh.” Natasha smiled sarcastically.

“Are you gonna take that, Parker?” Bruce asked Peter. Peter noticed everyone was looking at him and blushed in embarrassment.

“It wasn’t that clever. Chickens don’t even lay eggs. Hens do. And we don’t do that so it doesn’t matter.” He mumbled. Everyone’s eyes widths they leaned forward in their seats.

“Don’t do what?” Sam asked for clarification. Peter looked around at all the peering eyes and shrunk down in his seat.

“Sex.” Peter reluctantly admitted.

“You don’t do sex?” Sam laughed in surprise.

“Have we forgotten how to speak?” Natasha asked the crowd.

“Why are you guys all looking at me the way we looked at Bucky when he told us he didn’t wash his ass in the shower?” Peter asked.

“It honestly never crossed my mind.” Bucky shrugged.

“Hold on. How long have you guys been together?” Bruce asked Peter.

“Two months.”

“Two months? And you haven’t smushed yet?” Sam gasped.

“Ew. Smushed? There’s no actual smushing involved, right?” Peter forced a laugh. No one replied and his smile fell.

“Right?” He asked seriously.

“No offense kid, but that’s a long time to keep a lady waiting.” Steve said. “You two need to do a little bit of the old how’s yer father, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t. What the fuck does that mean?” Sam asked and pulled out his phone.

“Who are you to talk? Aren’t you a 1,000 year old virgin?” Peter deadpanned.

“100 years.” Steve corrected. “And yes. I am.”

“No he’s not.” Bucky said.

“I googled it. It was Steve’s old man way of saying putting some stank on it.” Sam read off his phone.

“Why haven’t you guys done it yet?” Natasha wondered. “It’s not like you just met. You’ve known her for years.”

“Yeah, but she’s only been my girlfriend for two months of those years. It’s a big transition. We’re waiting for the right moment.”

“So you’ve talked about it?” Steve asked him.

“Well, no.” Peter admitted. “I’m just assuming.”

“Assuming what exactly?” Natasha asked.

“That’s she’s waiting for the right moment to tell me she wants to do it. And then it’ll just happen then.” Peter shrugged.

“Hm.” Natasha said curtly. Peter noticed the look on everyone’s face and grew worried.

“What?” He laughed nervously.

“Nothing.” Steve shrugged and avoided eye contact.

“You can’t make that face and say “hm” and then not tell me.” Peter insisted.

“I think she’s ready.” Steve admitted. “I think she’s more than ready. You’re the one who’s not ready. That’s why you haven’t made a move yet.”

“She could’ve made a move.” Peter pointed out.

“No girl wants that.” Sam waved his hand. “They want their man to take charge and sweep them off their feet. You know, romance? Making her feel special?”

“She hates being lifted off her feet.” Peter insisted. “I picked her up once and she punched me in the throat and the bing bongs at the same time.”

“Hey, I taught her that move. I’m glad to see she’s using it.” Natasha smiled proudly.

“I have to agree with Sam on this one.” Steve said. “Girls like a romantic gesture. I’m not saying you have to literally sweep her off her feet, but make it clear that you want her. Or else she’s gonna start to feel under appreciated and unseen.”

“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re waiting and that’s okay.” Peter insisted.

“She’s waiting. For you. To make a God damn move already.” Sam replied.

“And you know what happens if you wait too long?”

“What happens?” Peter gulped.

“She’ll find someone who’s ready now.” Sam shrugged.

“Well what am I supposed to do? How do I make her feel special?”

“She was your best friend before your girlfriend right?” Bruce asked him.

“Yeah.”

“So she should be the person you’re most comfortable with. Just make a move. She’ll make a move in return. That’s how it works.” Bruce explained.

“Just like that?” Peter asked skeptically.

“Just like that.” Sam confirmed. By the point, you were back from the bathroom and sitting in a seat by yourself. Peter graced himself before going over to sit beside you.

“Hey.” Peter smiled at you.

“Hey Petey. What’s going on?” You smiled back.

“Nothing much. Just wanted to come sit by my lady.” He said and wrapped an arm around you.

“Aw. You’re so cute.” You smiled and leaned into him.

“You’re cute. Are these new?” He asked and tugged on the hem of your shorts.

“New to me.” You shrugged. “I stole them from Pepper.”

“I like them. They look good on you.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the compliment and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Peter blushed and looked over his shoulder at Sam, who was nodding his head to give him the go ahead. Peter nodded back before returning his attention to you. He went to put his hand on your thigh, but since the action was unnatural to him, he ended up grabbing your thigh so quickly and harshly that you jumped.

“Oh my God. What was that?” You gasped and pushed his hand off.

“Sorry. There was a spider on your leg.” Peter quickly lied.

“And you killed it? Isn’t that like…cannibalism?” You asked him.

“No.” Peter chuckled. “Wait. Oh my God. Is it?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “But thanks for killing it. I didn’t even feel it on my leg.”

“Hm. Weird.” Peter forced a laugh. He looked over at Sam again, who was shaking his head in disappointment.

“This is gonna be harder than I thought.” Peter thought to himself.

With Tony in the room right next store, Peter didn’t dare try anything while on the vacation. But once you returned to the tower a week later, it was game time.

“Peter? Are you in here?” You asked as you knocked on his bedroom door one day.

“One second, baby. I’m in the shower.” Peter called to you from the bathroom in his room.

“Okay. I’ll wait out here.” You shouted back and took a seat on his bed. Peter heard your response and thought back to what the team said about making a move. Before he could second guess himself, he called out again.

“You don’t have to do that. Why don’t you join me?”

“What? I can’t hear you over the water.” You said as you walked over to the bathroom door so he could hear you better.

“I didn’t say anything.” He lied when he felt he had failed.

“Oh. It sounded like you did.” You laughed and leaned against his bathroom door.

“That was just the sound of my shampoo bottle falling.” Peter lied.

“Oh. Okay.” You answered skeptically. You were about to go back to his bed when you heard a loud thud.

“Peter? What was that? Did you shampoo fall again?” You opened the door a little to ask him.

“No. My body did.” Peter groaned from the shower floor.

“Oh no. Are you okay?”

“Not really.” He winced. “I think I twisted my ankle.”

“Do you need help?”

“Yeah, but…” Peter began but trailed off.

“But what?” You asked.

“I’m nakey.” He said in a little voice.

“I’ll close my eyes, okay?” You laughed.

“You don’t have to. I just wanted to warn you that you’re about to see the biggest penis you’ve ever seen.” Peter said seriously, making you laugh again.

“Oh really? Is Thor in there?” You asked.

“That was hurtful.”

“You’re such an idiot. I’m coming in, okay? Hide your massive penis.” You warned as you entered the bathroom.

“I’ll try. But it won’t be easy.” Peter sighed. You opened the shower door with your elbow while covering your eyes with both hands.

“I’m here. Can you see me?” You asked him.

“Why would o not be able to see you? You’re the one with your eyes covered.”

“Oh. Right. Where are you?”

“The floor. Because I fell. That’s typically where people end up after they fall.”

“I should just leave you here to drown.” You said and turned to leave.

“Wait, come back. Please.” Peter whined. “They’ll never find a casket big enough to hold my massive schlong.”

“I hate you so much.” You laughed and came back. You bent down and helped him off the floor but grabbing his arm.

“Ah!” You screamed and dropped his arm.

“What?”

“You’re wet.” You grimaced.

“I’m in the shower.” He reminded you.

“I don’t know why but I wasn’t expecting you to be wet. Put my hand on the knob. I’ll turn it off.” You told him. Peter took your hand and guided it to the knob while you kept your eyes tightly shut. You heard the sound of the water turning off and Peter sighing in relief.

“There we go. Much better.” He said.

“Okay. I’m gonna pick you up now.” You told him and bent down to wrap your arms around his torso.

“Ah!” He screamed.

“What?”

“That tickles.” He sheepishly admitted.

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “Where’s your robe?”

“Hanging on the back of the door.” He told you. You kept your eyes shut but walked over to the door and felt around until you found his robe.

“Okay. I found it.”

“Throw it at me.” Peter said. You threw it outwards and it smacked him in the face. “You got it?”

“Yes. Ow.” Peter huffed as he put it on.

“Sorry.” You grimaced.

“Okay. You can open your eyes now.”

“Okay.” You said but didn’t open them.

“Baby. You open them.” Peter laughed.

“Sorry. I got scared.” You admitted as you opened your eyes.

“Of what?” Peter gulped, thinking you were scared to see him naked.

“Of seeing you on the shower floor and getting the biggest ick of my entire life.” You replied, making Peter laugh in relief.

“Fair enough.”

“Come on, little guy. I gotcha.” You bent down and helped him up with ease now that you could see.

“What did we say about calling me “little guy”?” Peter reminded you.

“That it’s funny and hilarious?” You asked innocently as you helped lead him out of the bathroom.

“Those are synonyms.”

“What about cinnamon?”

“What?”

“What?” You asked in reply. He shook his head endearingly as you walked him over to his bed.

“Okay. We’re here. Sit down.” You said and helped him into his bed.

“Well that was fun. And wet.” Peter said as he combed his wet hair out of his face with his fingers.

“You’re telling me.” You said and showed him your now soaking wet shirt.

“Sorry about that. You can grab a shirt from my closet.” He told you.

“Thanks.” You smiled at him before going over to his closet. You pulled out a T shirt and we’re about to put it on when you felt his eyes on you. You looked over your shoulder at him and he turned red.

“I’ll close my eyes.” Peter offered.

“It’s okay. You can watch. I don’t mind.” You smiled innocently at him before turning back around. Peter gulped as you pulled your shirt off and stayed perfectly silent. He could see your bra band when your hair moved and though it wasn’t much, it was as naked as he had ever seen you. You’d never been in so much as bathing suits around the other so this showing of skin was both unexpected but highly anticipated. Peter watched you pull his shirt over your head and fix your hair before turning back around.

“Better?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Better.” You nodded. He couldn’t help but wonder if you knew about the conversation he had had with the team. It wasn’t like you to get changed in front of him so maybe you weren’t trying to make a move as well.

“How’s your ankle feeling?” You asked as you sat on Peters bed.

“Not bad. I think it’s already healing.” He said and moved his robe to look at it.

“Good. You need it to climb walls and shoot webs out of your butt and stuff.”

“I have told you so many times.” Peter sighed. “The webs do not come out of my butt.”

“There is no doubt in my mind that you’re lying and just won’t show me. And that’s fine.” You shrugged.

“You’re ridiculous.” He laughed and took your hand.

“Yeah. Maybe a little.” You chuckled and played with his fingers. A comfortable silence filled the room as Peter started to form a plan in his head.

“So.” He laughed nervously. “Here we are. In my room. Alone.”

“I know. It’s nice.”

“You think so?” Peter asked hopefully.

“Yeah. It’s so rare we get time when no one else is around. It can finally just be the two of us.” You said and reached out to brush some hair off his forehead. Peter felt his whole face flush and scooted a little closer to you.

“I’ve actually been hoping we’d get some alone time.” He told you.

“Me too.” You smiled coyly and leaned in a little.

“Did you have anything in mind you want to do?” He asked and leaned in as well.

“I could think of a few things.” You flirted.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“For starters, you’ll have to lose this robe.” You said and ran your hand along the collar of his robe. Peter gulped as you got up and went back over to his closet.

“Done.” Peter nodded as he frantically started to undo the belt of his robe.

“And put this on.” You said as you tossed him some pajamas.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl. Wait, what? What’s this?” Peters smile fell when the pajamas fell into his lap.

“Pajamas. So you can get comfy and we can finally watch New Girl before it leaves Netflix.” You told him.

“Oh. Right. Pajamas. I’ll just put these on.” Peter tried to mask the disappointment in his voice as he tugged his shirt over his head. By the time you were snuggled into his side with your head on his shoulder, his disappointment was gone. He had gotten so caught up in what the team had said that he forgot to appreciate the little moments with you. He let it go for tonight and just enjoyed spending time together.

The next day, he was back on his bullshit. He found you in the kitchen with your back to him as you flipped through a magazine. Peter and wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your shoulder to let you know he meant business.

“Hey you.” He said as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Hey Petey. What’s going on?” You smiled over your shoulder at him.

“Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

“You’re so sweet lately. What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. I just really like you.” He replied and kissed your shoulder again. He decided to make a move and tilted his chin a little higher so he could kiss your neck.

“Fuck me.” You whispered as you flipped a page of your magazine. Peter immediately perked up and turned you around, thinking his plan had worked.

“What was that?” He gulped as his face burned bright red.

“Sorry. Paper cut.” You said and held up your bleeding finger. Peter took a split second to realized you were cursing, not requesting, before jumping into action.

“Here. Let me help.” He said and gently took your finger. He walked to the bathroom with you and turned on the faucet. He was about to put in under the water when he got a different idea. He looked you right in the eyes as he took your finger into his mouth and sucked the blood off of it. You watched him as he did this and gulped a little.

“Peter?” You asked in a soft voice. A hope sparked in Peter’s chest that he had successfully made a move.

“Yes?”

“Do you have any idea how many germs you just put in my open wound?” You said, making all Peters hope disappear.

“Oh. Sorry.” He shook his head in embarrassment and held your finger under the running water.

“Why did you turn the water on and then suck it instead?” You asked him. Peter thought about lying, but knew it was no use.

“I…I thought it would be sexy.” He admitted.

“You thought sucking my paper cut would be sexy? Okay, Edward.” You snorted as you got a bandaid out of the cabinet for yourself.

“Edward? Who’s that?” Peter felt a hot flash of jealousy over the mention of another boys name. He normally wouldn’t have that reaction, but he was extra sensitive after what Steve said about you finding someone else.

“The vampire from Twilight. Relax.” You laughed in surprise.

“Oh. Right.” He smiled in embarrassment.

“Peter Parker. Were you jealous at the mere drop of another boys name?” You playfully gasped.

“Is that bad?” Peter asked as he helped put a bandaid on your finger.

“I don’t think it’s bad.” You shrugged. “I think it’s kinda hot that you’re the jealous type. As long as you don’t get all possessive on me.”

“I won’t. I’ve seen enough white women with “love her but leave her wild” tattooed on them to know better.” Peter replied, making you laugh.

“Well that’s good to hear. And for what it’s worth, you’ve proven to be a lovely boyfriend so far. I’ve really enjoyed these past few months.”

“So have I.” Peter smiled softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss to let him know all was forgiven.

“So why were you trying to be sexy before?” You asked once you pulled away.

“I don’t know. I was just trying to make a move.” He sheepishly admitted.

“Make a move? Why would you need to do that?” You laughed. Peter could barely conceal the disappointment that he felt from your response. It seemed like the number one thing on his mind right now was the last thing on yours.

“Oh. I don’t know.” He faked a smile. You took his face in your hands and made him look at you.

“Petey, if you want me, just take me.” You said like it was obvious.

So he took you.

Peter wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you with ease as he kissed you. You anchored your arms around his neck so that you wouldn’t slide off as he carried you to his room. Peter laid you down on his bed without ever breaking the kiss. Both of you could feel the electricity in the air and knew something big was about to happen. But before you could get too far, the door opened.

“Hey guys - stop screaming, it’s me.” Sam held up a hand when he was met with screams from you and Peter.

“We know it’s you. What do you want?” Peter groaned.

“Nothing. I’m just bored.” Sam shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich in his hand. You and Peter stared at him in disbelief of his inability to read a room while he noisily chewed his food.

“So what are you guys up to?” He asked and pointed between the two of you.

“Take a wild guess.” You said sarcastically.

“I would tell you what I think is happening.” Thor chuckled. “But I know that’s not the case since you two don’t-“

“Sam.” Peter cut him off.

“Did I say too much? Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” Sam winked at Peter before leaving the room. The silence between you was uncomfortable as you struggled to know what to say.

“What was he about to say?” You asked an after a minute.

“I have no idea.” Peter lied. You looked at him and he knew he was caught.

“Don’t lie to me. Was he gonna say we don’t hook up?”

“Yeah. He was.” He admitted.

“You told him that?” You asked and got off his bed to put some distance between you.

“No. I would never.” He assured you. “It came up on the plane the other day. They were teasing me about you and it just kinda came out that we haven’t…you know.”

“Oh. Okay.” You nodded but didn’t seem fully convinced.

“I’m sorry. I know you like to be private.”

“It’s not your fault. I just worried that you had been complaining to them that we don’t…” You trailed off and Peter realized why you were upset.

“Honey. Never.” He assured you as he took your hand and gave it a squeeze. This seemed to ease your mind and you sat back down on his bed.

“Okay. Good.” You smiled in relief. Peter avoided looking at you as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

“Does it bother you? That we haven’t done it yet?” He asked as a deep blush spread across his face.

“Well,-“ You began.

“Do you guys know the Hulu password?” Sam asked as he opened Peters door again.

“Get out!” Peter shouted and threw a pillow at him.

“I’m trying to watch Bridesmaids. Please.” Sam whined. “I’m desperate. They just added it back on there.”

“Oh my God.“ Peter groaned and rubbed his eyes, knowing the moment had lost.

“Go ask my dad or something.” You huffed.

“You guys suck. Not you, Y/n. Clearly.” Sam laughed at his own joke and left the room again. A awkward silence filled the room again and Peter felt like the worst person in the world. He knew it bothered you that he had told the team something personal and even worse, he could feel your disappointment in him.

“I’m gonna go.” You said to break the silence. You got off the bed and Peter felt you quickly slipping out of his hands.

“Wait! Don’t leave.” He pleaded.

“I have to go move my car.” You said hastily.

“Can we please talk about this?”

“I have to go move my car!” You exclaimed and swiftly left the room.

“I know you don’t have to do that!” He called after you. “We’ve watched New Girl together. I know you got that from Nick Miller.”

Peter let out a frustrated sigh and flopped on his bed. He wasn’t alone for long before Pepper and Thor knocked on his door.

“Hey, kiddo.” Pepper said kindly.

“Woah. Weird combo. Have you two ever interacted before?” Peter asked and pointed between the two of them. They looked at each other and shook their heads.

“No.” They said in unison.

“So what were you doing outside my door?”

“Not that we were listening to your entire conversation, but we were. And you guys need to talk about this.” Pepper said as she sat on Peters bed.

“We tried.” Peter sighed. “Sam kept interrupting.”

“But even before he interrupted, you weren’t really getting anywhere, were you?” Pepper asked kindly.

“What do you mean?”

“Neither of you could even say the word “sex”. How do you expect to do it if you can’t even say it?”

“I don’t know. I never thought about that.” Peter realized.

“You need to have a mature conversation with her about this. That’s the only way to know how she’s feeling and to let her know what you’re feeling.” Pepper said and patted Peters knee.

“Okay. I guess you’re right.”

“Or.” Thor began, getting Peter’s attention.

“Or? There’s another option?” Peter perked up.

“Yes. Here’s what you do. You seduce her. No words, only passion.”

“I’m listening.” Peter leaned in.

“You spray yourself with a sexy body spray. You put some sexy sheets on your bed. You lure her to your bedroom. You play a sexy song. You dim the lights because bad lighting is sexy. You light some sexy candles. You make the setting so irresistible that you won’t need words. She’ll know exactly what’s about to happen.” Thor told him.

“I think that’s a solid plan.” Peter nodded along.

“That’s a horrible plan.” Pepper exclaimed. “That is the dumbest plan I have ever heard. You clearly need to talk to her.”

“How sexy of a song are we talking here?” Peter ignored her.

“The sexiest. But don’t confuse that with raunchy. She’s not gonna get in the mood if she walks in to some degrading song. You need to pick the perfect playlist that does all the talking for you.” Thor told him.

“Or, you could do the talking for you.” Pepper suggested.

“No. I’m gonna go with Thors idea.” Peter decided.

“Huzzah!” Thor raised his arms in triumph.

“Huzzah? How come sometimes you soudn completly normal and sometimes you sound like a World of Warcraft character?” Peter asked him.

“I’m not familiar with this World of Warcraft. But if I had fought in it, I would’ve won.” Thor smiled proudly.

“Thanks for the advice guys. I know what im gonna do.”

The next day, the plan was in action. Peter found some red silk sheets from a box in Tony’s room labeled “my bachelor era” and put them on his bed. He doused himself with a cologne he borrowed from Bruce before taking off his shirt and rubbing baby oil all over his chest, leaving him in just his black boxers. He looked at himself in the mirror and flexed his muscles.

“Perfect.” He decided. Now it was time to lure you in, just like Thor told him.

“FRIDAY, play Careless Whisper. George Michael.” Peter requested.

“Playing Careless Whisper.” FRIDAY said and the song began to blast from the speakers.

“Thank you. Now dim the lights.”

“Dimming, sir.” FRIDAY complied.

“Time to lure.” Peter smiled wickedly. He pulled out his phone and tried to text you but his fingers were too slippery from the baby oil.

“Damn it. FRIDAY, text Y/n stark and tell her to meet me in my room. And say it’s urgent.”

“Texting Tony and Y/n Stark.” FRIDAY, replied, but the music was too loud for Peter to hear it.

“The trap is set. Now we wait.” Peter excitedly rubbed his hands together and turned around. It wasn’t long before he heard his door opening behind him.

“Peter? Are you in here?” He heard your voice and slowly turned around.

“Well hello - TONY?! I mean, Mr. Stark? What, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter laugh nervously and covered his crotch with his hands. You looked at his piled up body and boxers and slapped both hands over your mouth to stifle your laugh. Once you realized what song was playing, you had to turn around so your dad didn’t see you losing it.

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Are you covered in sunblock?” Tony asked him.

“No. It’s baby oil.” Peter sheepishly admitted.

“Was that supposed to make this less weird?” Tony asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Why is he here?” Peter whined and looked at you.

“You texted both of us and said it was urgent. I thought you fell im the shower again.” You explained as you struggled to make eye contact because of how distracting his shiny abs were.

“Again? Peter, can’t you stick to walls? How did you fall in the shower?” Tony wondered.

“I slipped, okay? I’m only human. And a little bit spider.” Peter mumbled.

“Wait a second.” Tony held up a finger when he took in his surroundings.

“Sexy music.” Tony gasped and pointed to the speaker.

“Candles.” He gasped louder and pointed to the candles.

“Baby oil.” He gasped even louder and pointed to Peter. He then walked over to Peter’s dresser and let out the loudest gasp of all.

“Pack of extra small condoms?” He gasped and put his hand over his heart. He then looked at Peter with the rage of a thousand men. Peter looked at you, who looked like a mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and fondness.

“Um, it’s not what it looks like?” Peter said weakly. Tony threw the box of condoms at him and it stuck to Peters oiled chest.

“I knew it! You derelict. You ne’re-do-well. You scallawag. You were gonna try to sex my daughter, weren’t you?”

“Can that word be used in that way?” You wondered out loud.

“No. It’s not a verb. Your form was incorrect.” Peter told Tony, immediately regretting it.

“How’s this for form?” Tony asked and raised both his fists as if he was about to mollywhop Peter. You quickly stepped between them and held up a hand.

“Dad. Stop. You’re not gonna fight Peter. You’re obviously misreading things. There’s no way he brought me in here for that. Right, Peter?”

“Uhhh….” Peter trailed off and smiled weakly. Your jaw dropped for a second, but then you looked really pleased. Tony saw the look on your face and let out a loud, elongated groan.

“Goodbye. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go rinse my eyes out with drain cleaner.” Tony stared at you both in disgust as he walked out.

“Dad. You’re embarrassing me.” You whined.

“FRIDAY, add baby oil to the shopping list. Somebody used it all.” Tony called out as he left the room.

Once you were alone, you and Peter looked at each other and laughed in embarrassment.

“Did you really do all this for me?” You asked and rubbed his oiled up shoulder.

“I did. And it was incredibly stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do it then?”

“Because I wanted our first time to be special. You deserve special.” Peter sighed. You pouted and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“Aw, Peter.”

“I know. It was dumb.” He sighed.

“It wasn’t dumb. I think it was really sweet.” You assured him. “Just executed in a kind of terrifying way. The song is so loud that it’s rattling my bones and you look like uncooked chicken.”

“Yeah. This was Thors idea.” Peter laughed in embarrassment and looked down at his shiny body.

“Well it’s not the worst sight in the world.” You shrugged and ran your fingertips down his chest. Peter gulped and looked at you, feeling that electricity return.

“FRIDAY, stop playing the song.” You called out without ever taking your eyes off Peter. He got the hint and shot a web at the door to shut it before going to blow out the candles.

“Wait.” You held out your hand, stopping Peter.

“Leave the candles.” You told him.

“Okay. But why?”

“Well, it’s our first time, isn’t it?” You smiled coyly. “It should be special.”

Peter liked where your head was at but couldn’t go through with it without telling you the whole truth.

“They’re M&M scented candles that I stole from Morgans playroom.” He admitted. You stared at him for a long time before nodding your head.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking before I change my mind, okay?”

“Okay.” He nodded excitedly and pulled you into a kiss. You kissed him back and felt the same electricity that was coursing through his veins. Peter laid you down on his bed without breaking the kiss and you felt the red silk sheets he had put on under your skin.

“These sheets are a nice touch.” You flirted in between kisses.

“Only the best for you, baby. I took them from your dad.”

With the mention of your father, you immediately pushed Peter off and felt your entire body cringe. He had once again successfully ruined the moment.

“That’s it. I’m done.” You held uo your hands in defeat and left his room.

“Wait!” Peter called after you. “I cleaned them! I swear!”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

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@unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild

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@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

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