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#Peter Parker fluff
spiderfunkz · 21 hours
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hi! i’d love to know abt your fav headcanon(s) for tasm!peter and maybe a little oneshot of said headcanon(s)?
peter parker falls in love HARDDDDD!! i love him and his nerdy ass like aaaaghhhhhh. he's so cutesy and skrunkly i just wanna throw a rock at him 💕
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peter parker is the type of person to go head over heels when he likes someone!! the type of person to steal a glance every time you're not looking. the type of person to secretly hope he'd get partnered up with you during class. the type of person to practice in front of the mirror before finally talking to you.
he's the type of person to notice every little thing about you. the pins on your bag of your favorite artists? he can name five songs. your favorite flowers? he walks past the flower shop every morning, hoping to buy you some one day. the way you always have that one mood ring on your finger, he finds it adorable.
he goes so flustered whenever you catch him glancing at you. his face turns all red and he starts giggling actually, your probably the reason he skips to school everyday, hands in pockets, twirling around in pure joy and excitement.
he'll brag to his friends on how he talked to you when in reality it was him saying happy birthday and you replying with a thank you along with a smile that surely gave him a cavity.
to summarize it up. peter parker doesn't just like someone. he loves them. pure admiration, adoration, infatuation, smitten. you're the light in his heart, the butterfly in a field of wildflowers, the red tulip in a field of white tulips.
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peter has liked you for a while now.
it was a long day of classes, he could've just skipped but aunt may found out he was doing that too much and got pretty mad. besides, it's just one more class. a class he never really had to try in. should be easy right?
yes, but no.
you just switched classes to biology. sitting in the only empty chair, just two chairs away from peter. he saw you, and that's when he knew.
you were never late, unlike peter. every time he comes in you're already there, smiling awkwardly at the situation as mrs. moore lectured him. but what's the point? peter wasn't listening, he was too busy figuring out what emotion was on your mood ring, and spoiler alert! it was love.
it took him a lot of convincing and reassurance from gwen, but he finally got the courage to talk to you. not about how the weather is, or the same old "did you do the _ assignment yet?". he was going to ask you out on a totally friends-only, platonic date ( that goes so well it will end up with you and him holding hands! ).
"hi!" peter smiled, his hand playing with his hair. "hey, peter." he seemed nervous, you were too.
"um, so, i was wondering if you.. would.." he looked everywhere but your eyes, "..that if we could, maybe, um.. hangout? together? if you want to. obviously, you don't have to but um-"
"no yeah, i would love to peter!" you smiled. was it hot? it felt hot, your face felt hot, does peter notice? he probably does.
peter's heart was racing through a field, it was winning first place. "okay, good- great! i could um. pick you up? i'll text you. you have my number right? i could just um- you know..." he played with the hem of his jacket.
you nodded, "yeah i do." — "okay, we could meetup somewhere.. maybe the park? is that boring? the cinema? anything you'd like, i'm fine with anything you know. or we could just.. hang.."
you smile, "sure."
"really?"
"yeah definitely, either one. or we could do all of them, i've got nothing to do." — "okay, that's super! super- cool.. super cool. i'll text you, is that okay?"
you nodded, "of course."
"okay, i um- i'll go now. i should go now. i'll see you? later?" peter asks.
"yeah okay!" you wave happily as he walks backwards towards the exit, nearly bumping into 2, no, 3 now, students.
"text me!" you yell out.
peter nodded eagerly.
he walks out, knowing gwen is not gonna hear the end of this.
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im-sleepdeprived · 2 days
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Crazier • Pt. 2
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wc: 8.8k (but totally worth it i PROMISE)
pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader
a/n: part two is here! she's a little long but i swear i've never had so much fun writing and editing a fic so i promiseeee its totally worth it !!! i love this one so much so please pleaseee let me know what you think ! i love talking to you guys (i feel the need to tell yall this is totally a PETER x reader fic you’ll understand but DONT WORRY ITS JUST FOR PLOT BRO)
warning: literally nothing, a few f-bombs, and kids going psycho (in the best way) at school
read part 1 here
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The weird, auto-tuned, voice startled you and made you turn around, wiping your eyes so you could see clearly. When you saw who it was you rubbed your eyes again for good measure because there was no way. 
"Huh?" you said meekly, mentally slapping face palming for acting so dumb in front of New York's hero. 
His head tilted and his masked face shifted in what you could only guess was a grin, "I said can I walk you home? It's pretty dark and I don't really trust the streets and, trust me, I would know. Plus, your crying and being distracted is really dangerous."
"I'm not crying," you were, in fact, crying. It was obvious to both of you. Your red eyes and pink stuffy nose, despite trying to fight the tears so you could get home, only came in harder. 
"Ok well I'm just gonna ignore the fact that you're totally lying and ask again, can I walk you home?" despite there being a weird robotic tinge to his voice, you thought he sounded desperate. Plus you didn't really think he'd take a 'no' as an answer. Or if you were even allowed to give him that answer, he was a superhero after all.
So you nodded and his entire posture seemed to relax when you hadn't even realized he seemed tense. Wow, he must take his job seriously. You started walking, silently leading the way as he followed right beside you. 
"Can I ask why you're crying?" 
"You just did," you replied flatly not really meaning to sound so mean despite the tone you had used. 
You sighed, "Shit, I'm sorry Mr. Spider-Man, here you are being all nice trying to make sure I get home all right and I'm being a total ass." 
"No it's all right, you don't have to answer if you don't want to I just wanted to make sure everything was alright," his tone was soft, and somehow, despite not knowing him at all, you felt like you could trust him. 
"I broke up with my boyfriend," you whispered and you weren't really sure if he would catch it, but he did. 
"He must've been real stupid for you to do that, huh?"
You laughed. "God yes," your humor died down and your face fell, "but he was a great boyfriend, y'know, just...before he wasn't."
You passed the cafe that was near your apartment building when he asked, "What'd he do that made you snap?" 
You were silent for a minute, debating whether you should answer that or not when you finally stopped in front of your building making him pause beside you as well. 
"Well we're here," you slapped your hands together as you stood there awkwardly. 
"Yeah, yeah. Um, maybe we could chat again sometime, totally friendly, of course," he added the last part rushed, waving his hands slightly. It made you laugh genuinely this time. 
"Sure bug boy, I hang out on the roof a lot." you could actually use a friend to talk to after today. "If you're ever swinging by and you see me, you should stop to say hey."
"Really," Peter felt weird, you two had always sat on your apartment roof together, climbing up from your fire escape. And now he'd never get the chance to do it again. Not as Peter at least, but here you were inviting Spider-Man to hang out with you again. 
He decided he'd take what he could get. 
You smiled slightly and turned around to go inside when he spoke up again, "Wait how does tonight sound?" He asked, and if you didn't know any better you might even say he sounded nervous. That only made you smile more. 
"Tonight sounds great," you said., "Oh. And thanks for walking me home. I really appreciate it." You shoot him one last smile before finally turning around and getting inside. 
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Despite it being dark on your way home, it wasn't that late, it was just winter. You started your homework and worked swiftly, not giving in to any of the distractions you usually did. You wanted to be completely free tonight. Maybe befriending Spider-Man would help improve your grades too. 
When the clock struck 9 p.m. and your parents went to bed, you closed your door and silently locked it before walking over to the window and pushing it open. 
You grabbed a book and headed up, deciding to read until he got there. It was freezing despite the big sweater you were wearing. After waiting five minutes and him still being a no-show, you decided to go make some tea. 
Making your way down, you made two mugs of tea as quietly as you could without waking anyone in the apartment. It didn't take long and soon enough you were carefully making your way up the fire escape again, trying your best not to spill any of the hot liquid. 
While you were focused on steadily moving so you didn't spill your drinks, you didn't notice the masked hero sitting on the ledge. 
"There you are," his voice startled you but, miraculously, the tea didn't spill, "I've been waiting for like, forever." You had a feeling he rolled his eyes. 
"Oh shut up," you handed him a mug, "I was just up here dumbass. But it got cold so I decided to make us something hot." 
He used his free hand to put a finger on his chin, tilting his head, as if in thought, "Having trouble deciding if I should be offended you called me a dumbass or flattered that you made me a cup of tea."
You laughed out loud and he felt his heart flutter, the sound a nice contrast to the yelling that had gone down between you two earlier that day. 
"Wait so I never got your name," he asked in fake interest. Obviously, he didn't need you to tell him. But you didn't know that. 
"Y/N. what's yours?" you asked innocently and it was his turn to laugh. "Ha! Nice try," he joked and you just shrugged. 
"Whatcha reading?" He pointed towards the book you had brought up with you, "Business or pleasure?"
You laughed, and grabbed the book, "Definitely pleasure. It's my favorite actually. I've read it too many times to count."
His heart fell a little. Your favorite? How did he not know that? He remembered the cover though..or maybe just the color scheme of it. The more he thought about it the more he realized he didn't really remember the book at all. God, he really couldn't blame you for ending things. 
"Can you tell me about it," he asked softly. He loved it when you went on about a topic you loved and all the facial expressions and hand motions that came with your storytelling. 
"Are you kidding? I can write a 20-page essay about this book," you scoffed lightly, "but I really don't wanna bore you so it's okay." 
"No way! I asked, so how would you bore me. Tell me about it, maybe I'll pick it up from the next bookstore I pass."
So you did. You went on and on about certain themes that stood out to you while reading, and how important some lessons were. You showed him your annotations and notes and he realized you really weren't joking about the '20-page-essay' quip. 
He loved the way you were so passionate about the subject and all the thought you'd put into this. But seeing you like this made him realize something, it'd been so long since you'd been like this with him. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't really remember the last time you'd gone on one of these little rants with him.
Some time while you were talking you'd both finished your tea (him only pulling up his mask to the tip of his nose, taking a sip, and quickly bringing it back down. he didn't wanna risk anything), setting the cups far to the side. 
He let you finish before talking, "Wow that's a lot to take in, am I the only person who's been fortunate enough to have this wisdom passed onto them?"
You laughed, "Kinda, yeah."
That shocked him a little, at least if you hadn't shared it with him he thought you might've talked about it with MJ. He might not have known much (apparently) but he knew how much you loved to talk about a book after you read it, whether you liked it or not. And the fact that this was your favorite and you'd read it multiple times and hadn't shared it with anyone was weird to him. 
"Really? How come? Are your friends not into reading," he asked, trying to be subtle. 
You just shrugged, "I don't really have friends," he made a sound of disbelief which made you chuckle before continuing, "I mean obviously I have friends in the traditional sense of the word but I'm not close enough with anyone to just speak my thoughts like that, y'know?"
He tried, he really did, but he could feel the hurt coursing through him, did you never feel comfortable enough around him? 
"Really? you seem like the kind of person who has too many friends. What about your boyfriend?" 
"ex-boyfriend," you corrected him bitterly, and it left him wondering if you felt that same pang of hurt adding those two extra letters that changed everything. 
"Right," he said quietly, "but still, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?" He knew it wasn't his place to ask you such questions, hell it wasn't his place to be talking to you at all, you had made that clear, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't just leave you alone to walk home alone, hurt, and in the dark. And now, he really wanted to know what your answer to his question would be. 
You wanted to make a joke about how he was really going at it with the questions but you didn't have it in you. So you just thought about it a little before answering, "Well of course I was comfortable with him, at one point I guess, he wasn't just my boyfriend he was my best friend. And I guess that's what really sucks the most about the breakup.
"He was the only person I shared anything with but it just got to the point where I used to try and talk about anything and he'd just blow me off. It happened a few times before I just stopped altogether, it hurt too much when it felt like he didn't care. I stopped and it was like 'If I don't say anything, I can't get hurt'. If I didn't talk then I wouldn't feel that rejection again and I always had the little part in the back of my brain that said 'Of course he cares but don't say anything,  just in case.'
"He's a busy guy, and I get that, I really do. I just never thought he'd get so busy he wouldn't care about me anymore."
You hadn't realized how close you'd come to tears until you felt yourself sniffle, "Shit, sorry," you laughed bitterly, "I didn't mean to get emotional, it's whatever now, it's over."
Peter heard his heart crack. Saying he felt terrible was an understatement. He felt horrendous that he made you feel that way, even worse that he didn't even realize that he did until you just said so. 
"God I'm so sorry," he said, his voice feeling weak and he was extra thankful for the new voice-changer he'd been using lately. "He sounds like a total jerk." He was, he definitely was. 
You force a little smile, "Oh well," you shrugged, "we'll both move on." 
But deep down, neither of you believed that. 
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You had a long night. Turns out your city's hero had a lot more to him than you'd originally thought. He was extremely funny, always making little remarks about everything, and he was a great listener. Not a boring one either, he asked questions and seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying. 
It was the main thing on your mind that day that you almost forgot the problem at hand. Almost. 
Going back to school was something you were dreading. You didn't want to see Peter at all, just thinking about it was totally ruining your mood. 
You arrived and headed straight for MJ's locker. You tapped her shoulder, "Heyyyy," you said, making her narrow her eyes at you. 
"What happened," she deadpanned and you sighed. You rubbed the bridge of your nose just making her more skeptical. 
"Peter and I broke up." You said softly, not meeting her eyes. If you had, you would've seen they were filled with rage. 
"What," she asked lowly making you look up. You two were good friends but you didn't really think she'd care much, just because MJ wasn't the best at showing emotions like that. 
"Yeah, yesterday after rehearsal I broke up with him. He pushed it too far," you shrugged trying to put it off as nothing but she could see right through your charade. 
"C'mere," she slammed her locker shut and interlocked your arms together making you smile in delight. This was so unlike her and you were going to enjoy every moment. 
It was like that, your elbows locked together, you beaming and her with a dead-set look on her face as you headed for first period. You were so caught up in the joy of MJ being a little touchy-feely for once that you didn't realize she wasn't actually headed towards class but instead down the hall towards the locker of your ex.   
Luckily you caught on while you were still a few feet away, dragging her to a stop in the student-packed hall. 
"Hey, hey, hey. What do you think you're doing?" You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. 
She shrugged nonchalantly. "Going to chew out your ex-boyfriend for being a dick," she said as if it were obvious. 
You snuck a glance at him just in time to see him swerving his head opposite direction. So, he had definitely seen you. You shook your head, "Mj you can't do that, you'll scare him so bad you'll send him into cardiac arrest."
She cracked a smile at that until she looked in his direction and her face fell again, "No way. I'm gonna beat him into a pulp I swear-"
"Michelle," she tensed as you used her full name, "I'm fine. In fact, I broke up with him." Her shoulders deflated. "I'm not letting him off the hook that easily," she mumbled and you nodded, not really expecting her to. "I'm gonna give him the death stare all day long." She continued. 
"And I'm sure he'll turn to stone by the end of the day," you said reassuringly. Her face lifted a little. 
"But if he even tries to pull some stupid shit, I will not hesitate," she gave you a look that said 'this is the one thing you have no say over' and you nodded again. Anything as long as she didn't approach him and embarrass the three of you in the crowded school hallways. 
She seemed satisfied with that answer, and so you both turned around to actually get to class this time but not before you snuck another glance at Peter who, for some reason, was looking a little paler than a few seconds ago. Even a little..scared? Maybe he heard MJ's threats, you humored yourself, turning your head away from him again. But that was impossible because the halls were way too crowded for him to have overheard you both. Not to mention you were still a ways away from him. 
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The rest of the day went by easier than you thought it would, with extremely minimal interactions with Peter. none, in fact, after the MJ incident (who had stuck by your side all day like your own personal bodyguard). 
Of course, it might've been because you were avoiding him. You knew his schedule well and you knew where he'd be at almost all hours of the day. Even in your shared classes, you'd charmed some other students into switching seats with you so you didn't have to sit beside him anymore.
There was no rehearsal today so you dragged MJ to get ice cream with you, despite her initial refusal. You just needed a distraction, you didn't feel like going home and drowning in your thoughts for the rest of the day so you were gonna stall as much as you could. 
You paid for your ice creams and MJ chose a booth in the back for you both to sit at. Once upon a time, you all used to come here as a group (you, MJ, Ned, and Peter) and sometimes just you and Peter alone on simple dates. The memories hurt to think about so you pushed them aside trying to only focus on the sweetness of your chocolate ice cream. 
"So why'd you do it," MJ asked bluntly. You looked at her and furrowed your brows, not knowing what she meant. 
She sighed, "Why'd you break up with him? I can see how down in the dumps you've been all day, you clearly didn't want to do it, so why did you?" She didn't ask it in a nosy manner, just simply, as if she were asking you for today's date.
You exhaled slowly, trying to buy yourself time because as much as you didn't want to answer her question, you had to. You felt as if you owed her that much with how extra kind and supportive she was acting today, despite that going against her usual personality. And plus, she was your friend so she should know. 
"You know how he was MJ, I always told you," you sighed. You look down and start picking at your nails. "He just promised that he'd be there for one of my rehearsals claiming that, since they meant so much to me, he should go to one. And even though I kept telling him no and that he probably wouldn't be able to make it, he promised,
"He promised, and he still couldn't show up. So it just made me start thinking, and if he can't keep his word with simple things like that, how can I trust him with bigger things like a relationship? All the other times he's bailed on me, no explanation, and I'd just feel so stupid and hurt after getting stood up again. And I just snapped I guess."
MJ nodded solemnly as the bell above the door rang. Just out of curiosity, you looked up from your ice cream and you immediately wished you hadn't because walking in was Peter and Ned.
"Speak of the devil," you muttered as you buried your head down, letting your hair cover your face. MJ gave you a confused look before turning around and seeing just what you were talking about. She muttered a few profanities before grabbing your hand and dragging you up by your wrist. 
As soon as you stood up two pairs of eyes landed on the both of you and before you could even think about where to run away, Ned was heading towards you with Peter right at his heels. 
You cringed and MJ stood up straighter and tensed. You put a hand on her shoulder to remind her to relax and not turn on 'kill mode' yet. 
"Hey guys," Ned said smiling big and for a second you thought maybe Peter didn't tell him about the breakup. Until you saw him send a not-so-subtle slap to the back of his shoulder but Ned ignored it. 
"Hey Ned," you said softly giving him a tight smile and avoiding Peter's eyes despite feeling them burning holes into your skin. MJ just stood stiffly. 
"Funny running into you guys here huh? Me and Pete just came here for a little treat, y'know we need a pick-me-up after that math quiz," he laughed and you forced a small chuckle. You two seemed to be the only ones trying, Peter was just staring at you the whole time and MJ was glaring at him, waiting for him to try something so she had an excuse to pounce. 
"Say, aren't you in the same class Y/N? How was the test for you," he asked, clearly trying to keep the conversation flowing but as you opened your mouth to answer, someone else did. 
"Well, this has been just great. Not," MJ said which made heat rush to your face. As uncomfortable as you were, you never wanted to be rude to them, especially Ned. He had done nothing wrong and he was only being nice. 
"But Y/N and I have plans to be elsewhere so see ya later Leeds. And Parker, you might want to blink before your eyeballs dry out, not that I'd mind," she muttered the last part but you all still heard it so you sent a slap to her arm. She just shrugged as you turned towards Ned, still avoiding even looking at Peter, "Yea it was nice to see you Ned but we do have somewhere to be so we should catch up some other time," you tried more politely. 
"Yeah, of course," he sent you another smile as MJ dragged you by your arm out the door and you waved lamely at him. You both stopped as the door closed behind you. you inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nerves. 
"Oh my fuck, that was stressful," you muttered. 
MJ gave you a sympathetic look before gesturing to follow her, "Come on, let's find somewhere else to hang out."
you followed her and looked into the window of the shop where you saw Peter and Ned hunched over whispering about something. probably about how awkward that interaction was. 
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"Come on y/n, pleaseeeeeee," Lexi begged, giving you big, wide, puppy dog eyes. 
It was the next day after school and you were currently being bombarded by the whole cast and crew to play a big round of truth or dare with them. 
So they sent Lexi to convince you, knowing how close you two were. And also how stubborn she was. 
"But we have work to do," you whined pathetically. "Y/N honestly everything is done. and plus, we have one more rehearsal before opening night so if we did miss anything, which we didn't, we'll get it done that day," someone else from the crowd yelled, the rest yelling in agreement. 
They were especially laying it on you because Mrs. Lightbody was absent today, leaving you in charge alone. 
"Y/N/N, what are you even worrying about," Lexi asked, "you have everything memorized down to a 't'. Like, honestly, if any one of us had to bail last minute you could totally take over because I know you have every part of the script memorized." Everyone else was laughing in agreement and you looked down knowing it was true. 
"I mean, come on, isn't truth or dare such a 'seventh grade' kinda game," you tried for measly, knowing that what she said was true, almost everything was ready for the big day and the minor stuff left could be taken care of at the last rehearsal. 
"Well if you don't wanna play truth or dare we can always do something else," Lexi offered, giddy at the fact that you might actually agree. 
"How about a scavenger hunt," someone suggested. 
"Yeah! Me and Jack can write up a bunch of lists of tasks to do and items to gather. It'll take us less than 10 minutes," Lacy offered. 
Everyone looked around and you finally spoke up, "Sure why not," you gave in and everyone started cheering, some even whistling, "A bunch of kids running around an empty school? What could go wrong?" you told them, the whole group laughing loud. 
Everyone lounged around for a few minutes while Lacy and Jack laid out somewhere on the stage, pulling out a bunch of empty papers and started writing on them. You watched as Jack said something that made Lacy laugh, making a blush form on his cheeks. it had once been like that with me and Peter, you thought, but you tried not to let that bitter feeling seep in again. 
As if sensing your distress, Lexi came over and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Hey," she said softly, "maybe this'll be good for you, y'know. You work really hard and you need something to forget about that Parker kid for once. so let's go wild and run around the school a bit." you smiled, thinking about how ridiculous this whole thing really was and how Mrs. Lightbody would endlessly scold you if she ever found out. but you also couldn't help the excitement bubbling in you. this sounded like a lot of fun. 
"Yea, you're right," you agreed and you both lounged out on the stairs on the side of the stage until Jack stood up on the center stage and whistled, gathering everyone's attention. 
he waited, Lacy beside him holding a bunch of paper scraps, until everyone was close until he began, "Fellow children of theater," he started dramatically, "I hold before you midtown's very first, annual, theater games." everyone cheered and clapped. 
"You may gather into groups, as many as you like, just no more than four to a group, please. Now if you will, sort yourselves, and once your group is ready, come grab the paper that will have your tasks from Lady Lacy." He finished and motioned to Lacy who took a bow and everyone clapped once more. Man, you were gonna miss these kids once this play was over. 
you and Lexi decided that you were just going to go together but as you were getting ready to get up on stage, Brad Davis approached you two. 
"Hey," he greeted with that charming smile of his. Lexi greeted him while you waved silently beside her. 
"Mind if I join you two," he asked the both of you, but his eyes were only on you, searching for your reaction to his question. 
"Of course Brad," Lexi said, being the overly polite person she was. He nodded but he was still looking at you hopefully so you decided to answer, "Of course, you can join us," you smiled slightly. "After all, three minds are better than two. And I'm sure we'll need the extra help with whatever those two have planned for us," you motioned to the two leaders of this event, making Brad and Lexi laugh. 
The three of you made your way to Jack and Lacy to grab a list of tasks. You approached them, "Hey Lace, can we grab a sheet?"
"Of course," she said sweetly. She grabbed a paper then looked down and laughed lowly. you all looked at her confused and she just ignored you, turning to nudge Jack. He didn't help your confusion when he looked at the paper and burst out laughing. 
"What? What is it," Lexi asked, stepping forward. Lacy shook her head, "It's nothing, it's just," she laughed a little more, "me and Jack sorta wrote this one as a joke, the tasks on here are hella extreme, and frankly," she looked at you, "I don't know if you can handle it Y/N." 
You must've looked taken aback because she quickly added, "I mean no offense, honestly you're so smart that if I had to choose anyone to actually complete these I'd choose you."
"Then why don't you think I can handle it," you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well I know you're a stickler for the rules," she started, "and these break basically all of them."
"Lemme see that," you snatched the paper out of her hand and read it. well, you started to read it, but after seeing the first two tasks, you stopped. 
You looked up to see her and Jack fighting off smiles. "I can totally get another one for you for you," she started to reach for the paper but you yanked it out of her grasp. "No, no, no. I'm doing this," you stated. 
She and Jack exchanged a look, "are you sure," he asked you weakly. You raised your head and put on a defiant look, you loved proving people wrong, "Yes." 
You walked away, Brad and Lexi close on your heels, only stopping in front of the auditorium door. 
"Can I see it," Lexi asked? You nodded, handed her the paper, and watched as she read through it. Her eyes widened every time she read something on the list, Brad reading over her shoulder. 
"Y/N, I love you but you're crazy," she said. You went to reply to her but just then, Jack was at the center of the stage again. 
"Everyone has a task card, each group will try their hardest to complete all the tasks they were given. We will meet up here in an hour and a half and the winning group will be treated properly." He looked down to set up a timer on his phone. "But there is a trick to this," he paused for dramatic effect, "there's is an obstacle my partner and I have withheld from you all,
"We are, in fact, not alone in the school. There was a teacher meeting to be held after school hours and we have a few stranglers still wandering the halls. So you must be careful not to get caught," he smirked and you feel more of that excitement rush through you. You could really use the adrenaline rush this would definitely bring. 
He looked up, holding his phone up for everyone to see, his thumb hovering over the green button that would start the timer, "Let the games commence!" he yelled as his thumb hit the button, the numbers already starting to go down quickly as kids started rushing out the doors. 
"Oh my god, we are so gonna get caught," Lexi whined, making you laugh. "Well, we aren't gonna win with that attitude, come on Lex, live a little."
"Yeah what she said," Brad laughed and stepped forward to hold the door open for the both of you. 
"Such a gentleman," you muttered as you stuck your head out to look down the halls both ways before grabbing Lexi's hand and dragging her after you. 
"Read the first one Lex," you whispered as you scouted the halls for any sign of movement. 
"'Bring back a lightbulb that is currently being used in one of the rooms in the building'," she read off the paper. 
You thought for a second, "Most of the school uses tube lights so where can we get a light bulb?"
The three of you were quiet for a second before Brad piped up, "The library has ceiling fans that use lightbulbs," he suggested, but it sounded more like a question. 
You clapped him on the shoulder, "Brad you're a genius." His face seemed to light up at your compliment. 
The three of you headed towards the library, running into a few other kids who were also trying to complete their lists. 
You quietly opened the doors and motioned for Lexi and Brad to stay behind as you made sure there were no librarians or teachers present. Once you were positive the coast was clear, you let them in and went towards the ceiling fan furthest in the back, in case anyone walked in. 
You stood up on the table but you couldn't reach, "Brad, you're tall. Get up here," you instructed and he followed. 
"I have a better idea," and before you could ask what it was, he picked you up by the waist and lifted you up to where you could easily unscrew it. 
You carefully twisted it until the light gave out and the warm glass fell into your hands. You looked down at Brad, who was still holding you, and smiled, "Thank you." 
He smiled back and let you down, both of you stepping off the table. Lexi clapped lightly, "Ok first task done," she grabbed a pen from her pocket and crossed it out. As soon as she lifted the pen from the paper you heard a door close. 
You all looked at each other panicked. You brought a finger up to your lips and quietly tiptoed your way between the shelves, leading them to the back exit. 
Everything was going smoothly until Lexi accidentally bumped into a chair making it fall to the floor, the metal making a loud noise. You all froze in your tracks as the school's librarian's voice rang out, "Hello? Who's there?"
Quickly thinking, you handed them the lightbulb and ushered both of them to the other side of the shelf as her footsteps sounded closer and closer. Once they were completely hidden from your view you pretended to browse the books on the shelf just as Ms. Smith approached you. 
"Oh Y/N, it's just you. What're doing here so late," she asked, her scratchy voice prickling your skin. 
"Um well, as you may know, I'm directing the school play that's performing this Friday," you said. She nodded for you to go on, still looking suspicious. 
"There's actually a rehearsal today and I managed to find some time to sneak away to the library to get a book," you continued, having no idea where you were going with this. 
"You came here this late just to get a book? You know the library is closed at this time of day dear, it's only open during school hours," she said, still sounding suspicious so you knew you had to bring out the big guns. 
You sighed looking down, trying your hardest to seem heartbroken, "Well you see Ms. Smith, my boyfriend broke up with me and I just really needed to get lost in a good book to forget how hurt I am," you forced your voice to crack and looked away wiping your eyes from nothing. 
"At the 'Greek Mythology' section," she questioned, and you almost faltered. But you were too committed. 
You nodded, your lip quivering, "he always used to tell me stories of the Greek myths. And the story of Orpheus and Eurydice," you let out a choked sob. "it's so romantic."
She ate. it. up. "Why yes it is, it's one of my favorites actually. Well, you take your time dear," she rubbed your shoulder as you buried your face into your hands, "and let me know if you need anything else, alright? I'll be up at the front desk."
You just sobbed harder until she left. Once you were sure she was gone, you moved your hands away from your face, which was bone dry. 
You went behind the shelf to find Brad and Lexi shuffled together. You had to hold your laughter until you exited into the halls. 
You grabbed Lexi's hands and laughed, "Did you see how she totally bought that?"
Lexi laughed with you, "You were really good Y/N, I almost bought it too! And the fake crying? Absolutely genius."
"Yea Y/N, I almost thought you were fresh out of a breakup," Brad added and you laughed again. "That part is actually true," you inform him, "everything else though, was a part of the bit. Peter doesn't know the first thing about Greek mythology let alone the story of Orpheus and Eurydice." you laugh. 
"Oh? So Parker's out of the picture," he asked and you just nodded as you read the next task on the paper, not noticing his smile. 
You were dead set on doing everything on this list
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A little over an hour had passed. You and Brad were currently busy unscrewing one of the circular seats from a cafeteria table. Of course, you had no tools so you had to improvise. You found that if you bent a bobby pin just the right way, it'll do the trick. 
You kept twisting the bobby pin until you heard a clattering sound as the last screw fell off. Brad held up the seat as the three of you grinned. You were so gonna win this. 
You stood up and opened up the bag with the rest of your supplies as Brad added your new prize. You had stolen a trash bag from the janitor's closet to hold everything for you. As the three of you walked down the hallways holding the most random collection of things, you spoke up, "Lex, what's next on the list?"
She looked down and the smile that was previously on her face quickly disappeared as she seemed to pale a little. "Oh no," she muttered. 
"What? What is it," you asked as you all stopped in your tracks. 
"It's the last one," she said and you smiled, happy that you'd made it this far. 
"Ok so what's the problem," you asked, not really seeing what she was getting at. "Out of everything on this list," she started, "this is the one that will for sure get us expelled."
You and Brad exchanged a look, "Hit me with it."
"We have to steal the principal's desk chair." 
"Those little shits," you muttered, your hands clenching into fists. "So that's it right? I mean, we got everything else on here, we don't have to win. We made it further than any of us thought we would," she said but you were already shaking your head. 
"We have to win, we are going to win," you were so determined to win this stupid game and you weren't even sure why. 
Lexi looked up, closed her eyes, and brought her hands up together, "Dear god, I'm too young to die. my parents would kill me."
Brad laughed as you headed down the hall towards the principal's office. Once you reached where you could see it, you crouched, the others right beside you. 
the walls on his side of the office were glass and you could see Principal Morita sitting at his desk. You sighed and turned to face your partners, "I have a plan but it's a little crazy."
"Oh please, this whole thing has been more than a little crazy, just hit us with it Y/L/N," Lexi whispered. 
"Ok one of us will have to lure him out while the other two wait behind the door. While he's in the hallway and whoever's with him is keeping him distracted, the other two sneak into the office, roll the chair out the other door, and wait around the corner. Once we're done and completely secure, we send some sort of signal and he's free to go back in."
You were unsure, it was a little all over the place and really risky but they were both nodding at you. "Ok I can distract him, I know exactly what to talk to him about," Lexi offered and you laughed. 
You looked at Brad, "Guess it's you and me." You started crawling to the other side of the hall, careful to stay low so Morita wouldn't see you. 
"Yup," he muttered, "your regular Bonnie and Clyde." You held in a laugh as you got situated on the brick wall at the side of the office, made sure you were out of view from the door, and motioned for Lexi to go ahead. 
She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, the sound ringing out loud in the quiet hallway. It didn't take long before the door opened and was held right in between you and your school's principal. 
"Um, yes, may I help you," you heard him ask. 
"Sorry to bother you sir, but I really needed to talk to you about something," Lexi said desperately. "Ok why don't you go ahead and take a seat in my office," he offered. "NO," she cleared her throat, knowing she had said that too loud, "what is mean is, no I can't I'm kind of in a hurry." You heard her take a few steps back. "We should just speak out here."
Mr. Morita followed her, letting go of the door as he stepped forward but Brad grabbed the handle before it could close. He held it open for you as you crawled in and he followed behind before quietly shutting it after him. 
You two crawled up to his office careful not to be seen since this side of his office wall was made of glass. Currently, his back was to you and Brad while Lexi was facing you but was careful not to let her eyes wander and betray her. 
"Ok," you silently opened the door, "we'll need to pick it up until we round the corner because the noise of it rolling would definitely catch his attention."
"Alright I can handle that," Brad said as he grabbed the legs of the chair and stood up but you motioned for him to stop. You moved out the door and peeked your head around the wall the tiniest bit. You saw Lexi passionately going on about something and from what you could see of Morita, he looked a little uncomfortable. You made a mental to ask her later what she was going on about. Once you were sure that Mr. Morita wouldn't see you, you stuck your hand and made a 'shooing' motion. 
You weren't sure if Lexi would see it or not but she must've seen it from the corner of her eye because she moved so that she was facing the hallway you had to go down head-on, making Morita turn even more as he listened to whatever it was she was rambling about. 
Now, with his back directly towards you and the new direction you were headed, you both left the office and you silently shut the door. Brad quietly put down the chair, "Get on," he ordered. You looked at him a little confused as he tried again, "Come on, it'll be fun."
Hell, you'd already done way crazier things today than you ever thought you would. One more couldn't hurt. So you sat on the chair as he picked it up and walked down the hall. You had to hold in your laughter. 
Once he turned the corner he set you down, stuck his head out, and shot Lexi a thumbs up. Less than a minute later, she approached you guys. "Go before he sees us," she whisper-yelled. 
You were still sitting in the seat and Brad took it upon himself to push you through the halls. It was such a rush, laughing in the chair with your hair flying around you, two of your newest best friends right behind you. It was one of those moments that you knew right then and there how special it was and how much you cherish it in the years to come, all the moments from today actually. You never would've participated in something like this. Ever. It was fun to be pushed out of your comfort zone, to loosen up a bit. And it was especially fun to do it with these two.
You all arrived at the side doors of the auditorium breathless, you from laughter and Brad and Lexi from the running and laughter. 
"Oh. my. GOD. I can't believe we actually pulled that off," Lexi said, smacking her forehead, eyes wide. 
"Hell yeah, we did," you looked at Brad and grinned as you held out your hand for a high-five. "Lex," you turned towards her, "time?" 
She looked down at her watch, "Ten minutes before the deadline," she smiled. She opened the door for the three of you and you all walked inside, extremely proud of yourselves. 
The auditorium was empty, to your surprise, with only you three and Lacy and Jack working on something up on stage. You all walked up the steps, "Hey guys," you spoke up. 
They looked up a little confused hearing your voice, "Oh hey Y/N," Jack said, "done already?" you nodded casually and looked down picking at your nails, peeking up to see the shocked expressions on their faces. 
"No way," Lacy whispered, "there's no fucking way you could've done all that." She said, louder this time. 
You looked up, as if in thought, and put a hand on your chin, "Really lace?" Brad brought up the bag, he had stashed it in a hallway while you did your little office heist and the chair. "Cause I thought I just did," you smirked. 
They stood with their mouths agape while the three of you just grinned at each other. 
"Well I'm impressed," Jack said as he looked at you and your friends, "can't wait to announce the winners!"
The three of you sat on the edge of the stage while the rest of the groups piled in and handed their lists to Lacy and Jack so they could assess them. Soon enough, everyone had filed back into the auditorium and after a few minutes, Jack shooed everyone off the stage so he could make his announcement. 
Once everyone was standing below the stage, Jack walked up to the center as he had done almost 2 hours before. "Students of Midtown," he bellowed, "I come to you with news of your latest adventure. We have gone through everyone's task list and the little prizes they brought back. I'm disappointed to say that only one team completed every task given to them."
Murmurs broke through the students as they wondered which group could've finished everything in so little time. You turned toward Brad and Lexi, "Wait we finished everything so does that mean-"
"I'm pleased to announce, however, the winners of the scavenger hunt. Y/N Y/L/N, Lexi Walker, and Brad Davis, congratulations!" Applause shattered all around you while you, Brad, and Lexi were hugging and high-fiving.
"Get on up here," Lacy shouted. You three were pushed forward by the other kids. You all walked up the steps and stopped in the middle of the large stage. Lacy and Jack turned to grab something and when they were facing you again, you saw what it was and you laughed. They were holding three makeshift crowns, made of cardboard. They were colored yellow (probably with a Crayola marker) and had big colorful jewels glued on the tips. 
"Do you like em,'" Lacy asked with glee, "Me and Jack made them while everyone was out."
"I love them," you told her truthfully. The two of them approached your group and crowned you all separately as you stood in the middle with Lexi to your right and Brad to your left. 
Jack stepped back, "Ladies and gentlemen, fellow students of Midtown High, let's hear it for the first winners of our very own theater games!"
Applause and cheering roared all around you. You smiled but then remembered something. Leaning to the side towards your friend, you whispered, "Hey Lex, what were you talking about with Mr. Morita, y'know, when you had to distract him for us?" She grinned at you evilly. "I told him that all the girls' bathrooms in the building should have a handful of free menstrual products because incidents happen every day and distract us from our schoolwork."
You threw your head back laughing as she laughed along with you. "Lexi! What did he say?"
"He got so flustered I barely kept him out of his office as long as I did." She told you and you laughed even more. "I can't believe you had the confidence to actually do that," you choked out between fits of laughter. Everyone was still clapping below you. She only shrugged, "Someone had to do it. I was just fortunate to be handed the opportunity." She said it so wisely, you didn't know whether to laugh some more or solemnly nod. 
You looked down at your watch and realized rehearsal had actually ended a few minutes ago. You stepped forward, "Thank you, everyone, really. I hope you all had as much fun as I did because I had a blast," you looked back at your friends and smiled, "but, as you know, all good things have to end. It's getting late and before we all start heading home I wanted to talk to you all about something,"
"The day after tomorrow is the last rehearsal for us which really sucks because I always look forward to these things. No, seriously, sometimes they're the only thing to get me through the day." Chuckles and little shouts of agreement spread around the group, "And the day after that, is the long-awaited play we all worked so hard on. And as much as I can't wait to see how amazing everyone's going to do," you looked at Lexi, who smiled right back, "I'll miss seeing your faces every day so, please, if you see me in the hall or in class or something, don't be a stranger. And at our next rehearsal, Mrs. Lightbody will definitely be back so I expect everyone to keep their mouths shut about today. Or none of us will live to make it to opening night."
Everyone clapped with a few people yelling things like "wWe'llmiss you too Y/N" and "Don't worry, this won't be the end of us!" that last one was Jack being as dramatic as ever. You laughed, "Great, now everyone, get your asses home before I get kicked off the cast for keeping you all too late."
Everyone was running around getting their things ready and you were about to do the same when you remembered something. "Hey Lace, Jack," you called them over, "what are you gonna do with everything?"
they looked at each other and smirked before looking back at you, "oh don't worry Y/N, that's for us to worry about." he told you, setting unease in your mind. 
You chuckled stiffly, "Um, well, be careful I guess?" They laughed, "Of course we will Y/N/N." Lacy said. 
"Ok, well then I'm gonna get going now, bye!" You waved at them and they both waved back. You stepped off the stage, grabbing your bag from the corners of the steps where you'd left it. You were almost at the door when you heard your name being called. Turning around you saw Brad 
"Oh, hey Davis," you smiled. "hey Y/N. I was wondering if I could walk home with you," and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded a little nervous.
You laughed, "Of course, you can Brad," you started walking out the door, "unless you're trying to kidnap me then no." you deadpanned, making him laugh. He put up both hands, "Hey, my criminal record is clean and I plan on keeping it that way."
You were outside now and the roads were wet. Apparently, it had rained while you guys were getting it crazy back at school. You fake pouted, "Ugh, that sucks. I have a thing for bad boys," you smiled up at him widely. He dramatically threw his head to the side, getting rid of the hair that had fallen on his face. "Well, I'm as bad as they come."
"Oh?" you questioned, raising a brow. He nodded and leaned in, putting a hand to cover his mouth as he whispered in your ear, "One time, I was trying to parallel park between two cars and I accidentally hit one of them so I got scared just and left."
You burst out laughing, "Oh my god, I was not expecting that. BRAD! you committed a hit and run!" You laughed some more as he just shrugged, "What can I say? I'm just that cool." You fake swooned on him, throwing a hand on your forehead, "Oh my goodness Brad Davis, take me now!"
he laughed as you pushed yourself off him, laughing along with him. It was like that for the rest of the way and you realized how funny he was. He went along with all your bits (which was always appreciated) and made some himself. The walk went by quickly and was over faster than you would've liked. 
You stopped in front of the door to your apartment building, "Well this is me." Brad stopped beside you. "Y'know," you started, "you're way cooler than I thought Davis."
He laughed, "Glad you finally figured that out. Maybe we could do this again sometime?" 
You nodded, "Yeah, I think I'd like that." He grinned, "Great." you two sat there just staring at each other for a few seconds, the only sound was water hitting the ground as it fell out of gutters, and when he looked like he was about to open his mouth and say something, a car honked and splashed the two of you, leaving the two of you soaked from the side. 
You squealed in surprise and laughed. "Holy shit! Well, my socks are ruined now." Brad laughed along and you missed the twinge of disappointment coating his features. "Well, see you tomorrow Brad!" you waved at him as you turned to walk into the building. 
As you made your way up the stairs, you couldn't help the excitement still coursing through you. Maybe Spider-Man would pay you a visit. You had a lot to share after today.
44 notes · View notes
p3terparker · 11 months
Text
𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
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𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.
𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k
𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)
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“please hold me” 
it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.
“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.
“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.
adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.
you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.
“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”
“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”
“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.
“how did you–”
“i’m spider-man, baby”
“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.
“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”
“very. now come lay back down”
you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.
“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”
“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.
“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”
“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”
“okay fine, i’m done”
“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.
“you are truly such a big baby”
“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”
how could you deny him?
“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 
“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.
“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.
you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.
“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 
“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.
you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.
you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.
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waitimcomingtoo · 4 months
Text
A Film By Peter Parker
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: Peter gets back into making little videos once the two of you start hanging out
warning: extreme 2017 homecoming era nostalgia
Masterlist
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Of course he went for Liz.
Liz was the ingénue. She was perfect in every possible way. Perfect grades, perfect face, and the perfect boy pining after her. You’d been crushing on Peter since the third grade but with Liz around, he never noticed you.
But Liz was gone now. She had moved to Oregon following her dad’s arrest and taken Peter’s feelings for her with her. Now that she was gone, you decided it was time to stop pining after Peter from afar and start pining from up close. And so, when you walked into the cafeteria that day, you didn’t sit at the end of the table like you usually did.
“Oh, hey.” Peter smiled in surprise when you sat down next to him. Smiling was good. Smiling meant he wasn’t creeped out by you sitting so close. You gulped before giving him best smile back.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” Ned asked, making Peter give him a look. You immediately regretted your decision and wished you’d just stayed in your usual spot.
“What do you mean? She always sits with us.” Peter pointed out.
“No, she always sits down there. She’s never actually sat with us before.” Ned replied and gestured to the end of the lunch table.
“Yes, but I’m sitting here today because I needed Peters help with the chemistry homework.” You said and put your chemistry notebook on the table. You knew you couldn’t just randomly sit with them without a reason, so you came prepared.
“Oh, for Mr. Eddie’s class? It’s easy. I’ll show you my notes.” Peter’s offered with a smile. You returned the smile as he pulled out his own notebook. It was a win/win for you since you actually needed help with the homework and it would start a conversation with Peter. While he was explaining the problem to you, you never once looked down at the notebook. You were too focused on the curve of Peter’s suspiciously long eyelashes, the longest you’d ever seen on a boy. Ned noticed the way you were staring his his best friend and frowned a little.
“Does that make sense?” Peter’s asked when he was done explaining.
“Yeah, it does. Wow, thanks Peter. It sounds so easy the way you explain it. I wish this stuff came as naturally to me as it does for you. You’re so smart.” You said as if you had listened to a single word he had said.
“That’s nice of you to say but I’m really not that smart. I just like chemistry.” He replied as he blushed from the compliment.
“Oh, come on. You’re the smartest guy I know. You’re the only one that answers questions in that class. And you always get them right. When Mr. Eddie asks if anyone has any questions, I don’t raise my hand because I don’t even know what I’m confused about yet.”
“That’s I feel in English. I can barely make it through the first line in a poem and you’re already going back and forth with Ms. Teague about Pindaric odes or whatever they’re called.”
“You listen to when I talk in English?” You asked with a soft smile.
“Of course I do.” Peter shrugged. “I always find the reading boring until you raise your hand and talk about how you interpreted it. You make it interesting.”
“I liked that book we read when the kids ate the other kids.” Ned said and interrupted the moment. Your smile dropped as you and Peter looked at him with disgust.
“The one with the flies-“
“We know.” Peter cut him off.
“Anyways, thank you for helping me with the homework. I’ve been stuck on it all week.” You said to Peter.
“Ugh. That’s been me with my paper for Mrs. Teagues class. And it’s due tomorrow.” Peter groaned.
“Oh, the analysis essay? I could help you with that.” You offered.
“Really? You’d help me?” Peter smiled in surprise.
“Yeah. I already wrote mine. It would be no problem.”
Ned was watching this back and forth conversation for a while until it clicked it in head. He gasped and slapped the table, making you and Peter look at him.
“Oh my God.” Ned said. “That’s why you’re sitting here. You have a-“
“Can I talk to you for a second, Ned?” You quickly cut him off when you realized where that sentence was going. Before Ned could even answer, you grabbed his arm and pulled him outside the cafeteria to talk in private.
“You like Peter!” Ned whispered harshly. You clamped your hand over his mouth and pushed him up against the wall.
“You need to keep your mouth shut.” You hissed. “Yes, I like Peter, okay? I’ve had a crush on Peter since middle school. He never noticed me when Liz was around but now that she’s in Oregon, I might finally have my chance. I don’t want to scare him off so just keep your mouth shut and let me handle this.”
You took your hand off Ned’s mouth and he started to gasp for air.
“Oh, please. Your nose wasn’t covered. You could breathe just fine.” You said with a roll of your eyes. Ned stopped pretended and straightened up.
“So you actually like Peter? For his personality?”
“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Kinda, yeah.” Ned admitted.
“I like everything about him. And I’m gonna tell him that. Just please, don’t say anything before I do. I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”
“Are you going to cast a love spell on him using a lock of his hair?” Ned whispered to you.
“What? No. Why would you even ask me that?”
“Because you’re a witch.” Ned said like it was obvious.
“I’m not a witch.” You groaned. “I just accidentally cackled that one time but it was only because I had phlegm in my throat.”
“Then about that time on the bus?”
“We’ve been over this. It was just a coincidence that that biker fell off his bike after I gestured with my hand. I didn’t move him with my mind.”
“And that one time in physics?” Ned narrowed his eyes.
“I still don’t know how that guys shirt caught on fire.” You shrugged. “It’s a mystery to me.”
“It caught on fire after he made fun of you for being a witch.” Ned pointed out.
“Maybe he was just standing too close to the flame.” You shrugged.
“He was standing in the doorway. There was no flame.” Ned reminded you.
“The magic of science.” You shrugged again.
“But what about that time-“
“Don’t bring up the nosebleed.” You whined.
“I am gonna bring up the nosebleed.” Ned hissed. “In sixth grade, our Spanish teacher got a nosebleed right after he told you to stop staring out the window and made everyone laugh at you. How do you explain that?”
“You’ve made your point, okay? Now are you gonna tell Peter or not?”
“Look, I’m not gonna expose your gross secret feelings, as gross and secret as they may be.” Ned sighed. “But Peter is still my best friend so I have to look out for him. I don’t want any spells cast on him.”
“That’s fine. There will not be any spells.” You held your your hands in defense. Just then, Flash walked by and laughed when he saw the two of you talking.
“Woah. What is this, the friendless loser convention?” Flash snorted.
“Shut up.” You snapped. Flash immediately tripped over his feet and fell to the ground, making Ned look at you with wide eyes.
“Witch!” He whispered harshly as he pointed a finger at you.
“Shut up. Let’s go back inside.” You rolled your eyes and pulled Ned back into the cafeteria.
Later that day, you met up with Peter in the library to go over your assignments. You started with his English essay and finished that within an hour before moving on to your chemistry homework.
“You can plug the numbers into your formula now using the method I taught you. And then you just solve for x.” Peter explained as you worked out a problem together.
“Hm. You make it sound so simple.” You sighed and leaned on your hand. Peter saw the way you were staring at him in his peripheral vision and felt his face heat up.
“It’s, uh, it’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it. I never liked the way Mr. Eddie taught it. I figured this out myself and it’s worked much better for me.”
“Thanks for helping me. You’re a good teacher.” You said and put your hand on his arm. Peter laughed shyly at the contact and cleared his throat.
“Thanks. And so are you. That was the best essay I’ve ever produced. I honestly worry she won’t believe I wrote it.”
“Well if she says anything, I can vouch for you. You put in good work on this essay. You deserve the credit.” You assured him, making Peter blush all over again. It occurred to Peter that he never realized how pretty you were. You’d been classmates since 3rd grade so he always looked at you as just another girl in his class. Now that you had his full attention, he didn’t feel like looking away.
“Thanks. I appreciate you helping me write it. I know it can be frustrating to work with me because of my dyslexia.”
“It’s no problem. And it wasn’t frustrating at all.” You shrugged. Peter smiled at felt better about how long it took him to write the essay.
“Thanks.” He said. You had successfully gotten him to spend time with you one on one but now you needed to commence the next phase in your plan which was to hang out in a non school related setting.
“Would you ever want to hang out socially?” You blurted.
“Like, and not do homework?” He asked. You nodded your head and he smiled before nodding as well.
“Yeah. Sure. I’d love to.”
“Cool. Me too.” You smiled. You hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that but it worked nonetheless.
“Does this weekend work?” He asked you.
“Yeah. What do you want to do?”
Hard cut to that weekend. You were on the subway with Peter and he had his phone out to record himself.
“Firts social hang out with a girl. A film by Peter Parker.” He said in a low voice before flipping the camera to face you.
“Staring me.” You smiled and waved to the camera.
“Are you sure you’re cool with me filming this?” Peter asked as he flipped the camera back to himself.
“Yeah, of course. The other ones you showed me were so cute. But why did it seem like there were so many missing parts? You were always talking about something cool that I didn’t get to see.”
“Uhhh, no reason.” Peter said and looked to the side. He had skillfully edited out any incriminating superhero activity that you were not ready to see yet.
“Well I like it. I feel like I’m on Modern Family.” You said and posed for the camera.
“Which family member would you be?” Peter laughed and zoomed in on you. With his phone blocking his face, he could shamelessly admire your face on his screen.
“Duh. Lily.”
“I can so see that.” He chuckled. The subway lurched suddenly and you both grabbed onto the pole, coincidentally putting your hands in top of each others.
“Oh, sorry. Our hands touched.” You laughed shyly.
“Oh my God. So romantic.” Peter joked, making you blush and look into his camera.
“Stop it.” You laughed and covered his phone with your hand. He laughed as well and put his phone away.
After learn you had never been, Peter decided to the Lego Store. He’d been hyping it up to you all week over text and now that it was finally happening, he hoped it impressed you. You walked in together and Peter heard you gasp.
“Big Lego Aladdin.” You gasped and ran to stand under the giant magic carpet and Aladdin made of Legos.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that string of words come out of someone’s mouth.” Peter laughed and went to stand under it with you. You looked over at him and were surprised to see he was already looking at you.
“This is even better than you described it. You need to show me everything.” You said and excitedly shook his arm.
“I can do that.” He blushed and nodded his head towards some of the sets.
Peter took out his phone to film you as you looked at everything in the store. The way you were looking around like a little kid brought a smile to Peter’s face. He zoomed in on you and caught himself staring at you fondly through the camera.
“Come on. I haven’t even showed you the coolest part yet.” Peter said and brought you over to the build your figure own station. He laughed when you gasped again and started to excitedly rummage through all the pieces. Peter didn’t bring his phone out again until you had built each other.
“Show me what you made.” He laughed from the other side of the phone.
“Looks! It’s a little Peter. He has a backpack and a beaker.” You said as you proudly showed the camera the little Peter figure you had made.
“This is Y/n. I can’t believe I found the shoes you always wear.” He said as he filmed the figure he had made of you.
“You notice my shoes?” You asked with a smile. Peter didn’t catch it because he was too busy fitting the hands of your Lego figures together.
“Look. They’re holding hands.” Peter gasped.
“Aw.” You laughed. “Us on the subway.”
“We should give them some privacy. They might not want us to hard launch their relationship.” Peter said and put his phone away.
“You’re so cute.” You laughed without thinking about it. Peter looked up at you with rosy cheeks and you gulped when you realized what you said.
“I mean-“
“Come on. I wanna take you somewhere else.” He cut you off before you could explain. He brought you to Delmar’s and ordered his usual for you to split. You sat together inside and you tried your best to remain calm. You always wondered what Peter got up to when he wasn’t at school and now you were in one of his favorite places and eating with him.
“Okay, this is Y/n’s first time eating at Delmars since he reopened. Let’s get her reaction.” Peter said as he filmed you unwrapping the sandwich.
“Wait, why is it so flat?” You laughed and held the sandwich up.
“Oh, sorry.” He chuckled. “I forgot to warn you that he always squishes it for me. But you’ll like it. Trust me. It’s much better when it’s squished down real flat.”
“Well I’m glad I now know you like your sandwiches to be squished. I would not have expected that about you.” You said and took a bite of your half before giving him a thumbs up.
“Yeah? You like it?” He asked hopefully.
“I do. Your squishy sandwich was surprisingly good.” You admitted.
“Well, I’m very pleased to hear that.” Peter smiled and phone away. “So to make it even, you have to show me one of your favorite places next time we hang out.”
“Oh.” You smiled coyly. “I didn’t realize there would be a next time.”
“There better be. I had a lot of fun with you today. How come we’ve never hung out before?”
“I don’t know. I always wanted to but you were busy running around with Ned or staring at…” You trailed off and chose not to mention Liz in case he was still hung up on her.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad we’re friends now.” You said instead.
“Me too. I’ve never had a girl friend.”
“What was that?” You said and started choking on your saliva.
“All my friends in my life were guys. It’ll be nice to have a female influence in my life.”
“Oh. Girl friend.” You smiled tightly.
You hung out another hour before taking the subway back to your respective apartments. Peter walked to you the front doors of you building and you had an awkward moment where you didn’t know if you should hug or not.
“We uh, we should probably get an ending for your film.” You said with a timid smile.
“Oh, right. Thats a great idea.” Peter smiled and pulled out his phone. He pressed record and you waved to the camera with both hands.
“So, can you give our first time hanging out a rating?” He asked you.
“9/10.” You grinned and held up two thumbs.
“What? Why’d I only get a 9?” Peter scoffed and pretended to be offended.
“I had a 10/10 time but I have to deduct a point because we saw that guy cutting his hair on the subway and I was scared he was gonna throw the scissors at us.”
“Well I would’ve just protected you with my lightning fast reflexes.” Peter said simply. You smiled at him through the phone and he smiled back. He put the camera down and looked at you with a content smile on his face.
“Seriously, though. When’s the next time we’re hanging out?”
It ended up being just a few days later. And then again a few days after that.
“Peter’s first time!” You cheered as you filmed him during one of your hang outs.
“Trying boba.” He clarified. “I don’t understand this drink. Do I eat the balls?”
“Yes. Sip it slowly so they don’t all go down your throat.” You instructed. Peter took a big sip and immediately started choking.
“Peter! I said slowly!” You said as you slapped his back until he stopped choking. You quickly put the camera down to help him recover.
Your hangouts started getting more and more frequent and Peter soon considered you a best friend. Your weekends became each others and school days were often spent together in the library or at one of your apartments. You were quickly moving up the ranks in Peter’s life, just as you hoped. And the closer you got, the more Peter could not believe he had never noticed you before.
Little did you know, Peter often found himself watching the footage he had taken of you during your hang outs with a big smile on his face. He’d rewatch the videos he had taken and realize that they were slowly becoming less of a documentary and more of a highlight reel for you. He never imagined a girl as cool as you would for him so when he realized he was starting to fall for you, he quickly repressed his feelings. Little did he know, the feelings were mutual.
“Did you always make these little videos?” You asked Peter one day as he filmed you trying to balance on the curb of the sidewalk.
“I used too make them all the time but I hadn’t for awhile. I only started them again when we started hanging out.”
“Really? Why?” You wondered and stumbled off the curb.
“I don’t know. You remind me of the time before my life got crazy. It made me want to do these again.” He shrugged. You couldn’t help but smile at that information and turned around to look at him.
“So I could be the star?” You asked and posed for the camera.
“Exactly. You’re my muse.” He played along, making you laughed shyly. When he watched the video back later that night, he knew he had meant every word of that.
Peter sat in his bedroom one day and filmed himself wearing your glasses while you did homework at his desk. He looked over you every now and then just to admire the back of your head.
“Don’t break those.” You called without looking up. All you needed to hear was the sound of your glasses case opening to know what he was doing.
“I’m not even wearing your glasses.” He lied and admired himself in the camera.
“Yes you are.”
“No I’m not. But yes, I am.”
“Knew it.” You snorted.
“Hey, how come girls always smell so good?” Peter wondered. “Your hair hit me in the face when you turned too fast before it smelled like a baby in a damn meadow.”
“It’s just my womanly essence. Now can you stop looking at yourself long enough to help me with my chemistry homework?”
“It’ll be hard but I can try.” Peter dramatically sighed and set his phone down. You got yo from the desk and went over to the bed with a cheeky smile on your face.
“Incoming.” You announced and patted your elbow twice like a wrestler.
“No, don’t.” He pleaded. You ignored his pleas and jumped on top of him. He groaned and pushed you off, leaving you laying in the bed beside him.
“Ow. My ribs.”
“You’ll heal.” You rolled your eyes. “Now can you help me with number 7?”
“Oh, yeah. No problem. Can you check this email before I send it?” He asked and handed over his laptop. You handed him your worksheet before reading over his email draft.
“Oh, honey.” You grimaced just a few words into the email.
“Is it bad?”
“Good evening, Mrs. Howard. I hope this email finds you well. I’m so sorry for bothering you. I was just wondering if I could possibly have an extension on my midterm paper? No worries at all if an extension is not possible. I apologize for any inconvenience this email may have caused. Thank you for reading, Peter Parker.” You read out loud.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“After your name, you included the name of the class, the time you have it, and a description of yourself. She knows who you are!” You laughed and turned the laptop around to show him his mistakes.
“She may have forgotten.” He pointed out. “I can’t take any chances.”
“Peter, this email is way too submissive. You sound like such a bottom.”
“Well excuse me, genius.” He said sarcastically. “How would you write it?”
“Here.” You said and handed the laptop back after retyping his email.
“Oh, wow. That’s actually really good.” He said once he read your updated version.
“This is why we are such good friends. You have all the math and science knowledge in this little, beautiful head of yours-“
“Little?” He interrupted.
“You’re right. Sorry, I was just being nice. What I meant to say is that your head is huge.” You corrected. “Anyways, you have the math brain and I have the literary brain. It’s like you’re Einstein and I’m Victor Hugo.”
“Who the hell is that?” He laughed as he peaked at your mirror to see if his head was actually huge.
“The guy who wrote Les Mis.” You said like it was obvious.
“Never heard of it.”
“What? You’ve never seen Les Misérables?” You asked in a thick French accent.
“Huh?”
“We have to watch it. It’s so good.” You said and snatched his laptop back. You pulled up the movie and handed it back to him.
“Oh my God. It’s two hours and 38 minutes long? And a musical? Hell no.” Peter shook his head and pushed the laptop away.
“But it’s so good.” You urged. “We can just leave it on in the background while we work. It’s super light and easy to watch.”
“Really? What’s it about?”
“Oh, you know. Just war torn France.” You mumbled.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“But you’ll like it! There’s prostitution and con men and um…oh! And orphans! You can watch it and feel represented.” You said and shook his arm.
“I hate you.” He laughed but nearly gave in to your request just to see you happy.
“Fine.” You huffed. “I finished editing your midterm paper, by the way. You don’t actually have to send that email.”
“And here is your completed chemistry homework.” Peter smiled and handed your worksheet back.
“Aw.” You gushed. “Look at us. I love cheating with you.”
“So do I. We make a great pairing.” He chuckled as he looked over at you. You looked back at him and gulped. You hadn’t realized how close you were with your arms and legs pressed against each other as you sat together in your bed. Peter knew his sheets would smell like your perfume that night and smiled at the thought.
“Now that we’re all done with our work, you know what we should do?” He asked as he moved in closer.
“W-what should we do?” You stuttered now that he was right there.
“You know what I’ve been dying to do with you for a long, long time?” He asked.
“No. I mean, I don’t know. What?” You laughed nervously. Peter moved in even closer and right when you thought he was gonna kiss you, he reached over and grabbed his laptop back.
“I wanted to show you a real musical. Not this French miserable bull crap. Have you ever seen a little movie called Hair-“
“No. I’m not watching Hairspray with you again. You scream-sang every lyric last time and I couldn’t even hear it.” You cut him off and reached over home to take the laptop back. He pulled it away at the last second and you ended up on top of him. You looked into each others eyes and both froze in the positions you were in. Your faces were almost touching but neither of you tried to pull away. Your eyes were going back and forth between his lips and eyes and he was doing the same. Like magnets, you two started to lean towards each other but before your lips could connect, May opened the door.
“What did you guys want- oh! Sorry! I didn’t realize I would be interrupting something. My bad.” May smiled sheepishly and pretended to cover her eyes. Peter burned bright red as you quickly climbed off of him.
“May.” He said warningly.
“Sorry. But maybe lock the door next time. And use protection.”She whispered the last part before shutting the door.
“May!” He groaned and threw a pillow at the door. There was a long, awkward silence before you were even able to look at each other. When you finally did, you smiled awkwardly and kept your distance.
“That was so weird. What did she think we were doing?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.
“Psh. I know.” Peter scoffed. “She said she was interrupting but we weren’t even doing anything.”
“Yeah. What did she think? That we were gonna kiss or something?” You asked and laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing you could ever suggest.
“Us? Kissing? How silly. Imagine that.” Peter forced a laugh as well and looked to the side. The awkward silence returned and you struggled to look at each other.
“Do you think she made dinner?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.
“Let’s check.” You said and quickly got off the bed.
You didn’t discuss the almost kiss and went home shortly after. You couldn’t sleep that night because you couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your mind. No matter how much you wanted him to like you back, if Peter reciprocated your feelings, he would have kissed you.
Your pity party didn’t last long because on the subway the next day, you felt Peter put his earbud in your ear. You heard the Les Mis soundtrack playing in your ear and looked up in surprise. Peter was already filming you with a huge smile on his face.
“This guy 24601 should stop stealing bread and stick to singing. He has serious pipes.” Peter said.
“You listened to it?” You melted into a smile and held your hand over your heart.
“Yep. I stayed up all night watching lyric videos because I couldn’t understand what they were saying with their accents. It’s actually really good. I love Eponine. I just wish Marious wasn’t such an idiot. How does he not see that his best friend is clearly in love with him?” Peter asked with exasperation. You looked directly at the camera and hoped it picked up the irony before looking at Peter again.
“He’s not an idiot. He’s a romantic.” You sighed. “He doesn’t notice Eponine because he’s in love with Cosette. And course he is. She’s prettier and richer and has perfect hair. He doesn’t even see Eponine.”
“Good hair isn’t everything. Eponine is way better than Cosette.” Peter scoffed. “I’m team Eponine all the way.”
“Are you really?” You asked hopefully.
“Oh, for sure. I see why you like this stuff. These songs are awesome.” Peter said and put the other earbud in his ear. He then flipped the camera around to film the two of you sharing earbuds. As Heart Full Of Love played in your ears, you couldn’t help but longingly staring at Peter. The fact that he had stayed up late just to listen to something you suggested made you overcome with fondness for him. If he had done something like that, maybe he actually did feel the same.
“I forgot how good this album is. I haven’t listened in a while. I used to listen to it all the time back when you…” You stopped short when you realized you were about to say too much.
“When I what?” Peter wondered. You looked him in the eyes and decided that it was time to be honest. The song ended and a new, much louder one began to play in your ears.
“Back when you liked Liz. She was Cosette. I was Eponine. I was the one pining after a guy who never noticed me because he was in love with another girl. You were never mine to lose.” You admitted. Peter stared at you for a minute before pulling his earbud out.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear a word you just said. Master of the House is such a banger. What did you say?” He asked you.
“Never mind.” You smiled. “It wasn’t important.”
He smiled back before getting a text on his phone. You looked at his phone when you heard it buzz and realized he was still recording. In other words, he had just recorded you saying you liked him. Your eyes went wide but you only had a second to panic when you read the text he had gotten.
“Did Liz just text you?” You asked in a quiet voice. You felt like you were about to throw up. Years of crushing on a boy who liked another girl turned into months of pinning for your best friend and now turned into a rock in your stomach. Peter stopped recording the two of you to answer her text, which felt a little like a slap in the face.
“Oh, yeah. We’ve been talking lately.” He absentmindedly replied to you as he laughed at whatever she had written.
“You have?” You asked with a dry mouth.
“Yeah. She says Oregon is pretty cool. But she wants to come back and visit this summer to see everyone.” He told you.
“And see you?” You asked with a sad smile.
“I guess so.” He shrugged. “It would be nice to see her.”
“Yeah. Totally.” You said weakly. “So how long have you guys been talking?”
“I don’t know. A few weeks? She texted me a little while ago and we’ve been catching up.”
“That’s awesome.” You lied.
“I know. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again after she moved.”
“Neither did I.” You said through a forced smile. You needed to get off the subway and away from Peter before you started crying. So as soon as the subway doors opened, you bolted out.
“I gotta go. See you later.” You called to him before running through the subway station. You wiped tears as you went up the stairs and didn’t stop moving until you were in a bathroom stall at school. You gave yourself five minutes to be upset before drying your face and leaving the bathroom. It sucked, but it could have been worse. Now, Peter never had to know how you felt about it.
Peter was beyond confused by your exit on the subway but he wasn’t about to get any answers from you. You dodged his texts throughout the day and didn’t dare go into the lunchroom where you knew he and Ned would be.
“Y/n isn’t here yet?” Peter’s huffed as he sat down at your usual lunch table.
“Not yet. Actually, I haven’t seen your girlfriend all day.” Ned realized.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter blushed. “And I’m pretty sure she’s avoiding me. She’s been so weird ever since this morning. Everything was fine on the subway until we got to school.”
“Well did anything happen on the subway that would weird her out? Oh no. Did you graze her boob with your hand again?”
“No. That was one time. And it was her boobs fault, not mine.” Peter whispered harshly. “We were just listening to music together and I was filming her like normal. But she could not get away from me faster once the doors opened. It was so weird.”
“Did you say anything weird to her? Girls don’t like it when you say weird things to them.”
“I know that. I didn’t say anything weird.” Peter replied as he pulled out his phone. He watched the video he had taken on the subway with no sound to see where he had gone wrong. All he saw was you looking at him with heart eyes which made his face heat up. But still, no evidence of where he messed up.
“I knew it. We were having a normal conversation about Les Mis and then I got a text from and then she ran. It makes no sense.”
“What was the text? Was it May saying something weird?”
“No. And stop saying weird. It doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.” Peter ordered. “And the text was just from Liz.”
“Oh shit.” Ned said when he heard this.
“What?” Peter wondered.
“Oh, Peter.” Ned sighed. “Peter, Peter, Peter.”
“What?” He asked again, annoyed now.
“Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter.”
“Are you gonna tell me what happened or just keep saying my name?”
“I can’t tell you. I’m sworn to secrecy. And I don’t want Y/n to put a hex on my family.” Ned said and held up his hands.
“Y/n swore you to secrecy? About what?”
“Can’t say.” Ned shrugged and zipped his lips.
“Does she not like Liz? And doesn’t want me to know?”
“Dude. Dude, dude, dude, dude. You are so close but so far.”
“So she does like Liz? Oh my God. Does she a crush on Liz? And she’s jealous that Liz texted me and not her?” Peter whispered with wide eyes.
“You’re getting colder.” Ned waved his hand. “I don’t even know how you got there.”
“That was all my guesses. Just tell me.” Peter whined.
“Hell no. I don’t want Y/n to curse my crops and make not grow for all of eternity.”
“You don’t have crops.” Peter pointed out.
“I could develop some.” Ned snapped.
“I just don’t understand what she would tell you something but not tell me. We’re best friends. She usually tells me everything.” Peter said right as his thumb accidentally hit the volume button on the video. Your confession to Peter on the subway was heard loud and clear by the two boys. Both of their jaws dropped as the video ended with you asked if Liz had just texted Peter.
“Well I wouldn’t have beaten around the bush like that if I knew you had video evidence of her saying she liked you right in your hands.” Ned sighed dramatically.
“I need to find her.” Peter said and ran out of the lunchroom. He looked around the school until he found you under the bleachers in the gym. You were sitting with your back against the wall and your knees drawn to your chest with your earbuds in your ears. When you saw Peter coming up to you, you quickly pulled them out.
“Hey.” He said and waved cautiously.
“Hey.” You smiled sadly as he sat beside you. You sat in silence for a minute as neither of you knew what to say.
“What’s going on with you? I haven’t seen you all day.” He started off. You looked at your hands to avoid making eye contact and sighed.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been talking to Liz?” You asked quietly.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t hiding it. I just didn’t think it would interest you.”
“Well you have no idea how interesting I found it.” You laughed dryly. “What do you guys talk about anyway?”
“Well, she originally texted me to ask me to confirm I had an internship at Stark Industries because her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she knew a guy who worked there. Apparently he’s been trying to get an internship there for years and he wanted to know how I landed mine. Then we just started catching up. I only talk to her here and there, though. And it’s only ever about school or work.”
“Oh. I thought you guys were talking talking.” You couldn’t help but smile a little when you heard the word “boyfriend.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Just regular talking. When you saw her text on my phone, she was telling me about her cat getting spaded. And I didn’t know what that meant so she had to tell me. I should’ve just googled it.”
You laughed softly at that and he did too. The tension was let out of the conversation and you could finally breathe again. When you stopped laughing, you finally looked in his eyes.
“Do you still have feelings for her?” You asked quietly.
“For her? No.” He laughed. “Those are long gone. I have feelings for someone else now.”
“Oh God. Don’t even tell me. I don’t want to know.” You groaned and buried your face in your hands. Peter looked at you for a minute until an idea came to him.
“Actually, uh, I came looking for you because I was just making another video. Wanna be in it?” Peter asked and took out his phone. You looked at him like he was crazy and could not believe he had just asked that during that moment.
“I’m not really in the mood right now, P.”
“Come on. I can’t make it without my muse.” He said and nudged you slightly. You couldn’t help but to smile at that and reluctantly nodded. He propped up his phone against the bleachers and pressed record.
“In a world where two best friends have no idea how to communicate despite spending way too much time together.” Peter said in a fake deep, gravely voice.
“Okay. Shade. That’s fine.”
“What will it take for them to admit they have feelings for each other?” He kept the voice as he looked at you.
“Wait, what?” You asked and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. Peter smiled softly at you and shrugged a little.
“What’s it gonna take?” He asked again in his normal voice.
“I don’t understand.” You laughed nervously.
“I watched the video from before. From the subway. I heard what you said.” He admitted.
“Oh shit. You watched it?” You grimaced.
“Uh huh. So if you’re Eponine, I guess that makes me the idiot who didn’t realize his best friend was in love with him?”
“I guess so.” You said with a tight smile and still didn’t understand why he wanted to film this incredibly awkward conversation.
“You know, if I didn’t have a video of it, I never would have believed that you liked me.” Peter told you.
“You wouldn’t? Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t seem possible that the coolest girl I’ve ever met liked me.” He replied.
“You think I’m cool?” You asked skeptically.
“I think you’re the coolest. And you know, I watch the videos I take of you all the time. And half of them are just clips of you existing. So I do notice you. It just took me a second to catch up.” He told you. A smile tugged at your lips as you stared into his big brown eyes.
“You’re my best friend.” You told him. “I’m sorry I want more.”
“I’m not sorry.” He shrugged.
“You’re not?”
“I’m just sorry it took me so long to wake up and find that what I’ve been looking for has been here the whole time.” He said as he hooked his pinky under your chin and brought your face close to his.
“Wait, why does that sound so familiar?” You wondered.
“Don’t think about it too hard.” Peter whispered right before your lips touched. You kissed for the first time under the bleachers but it could have been in a palace for all you knew. The world disappeared around you as Peter slipped a hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. When you pulled away, you rested your foreheads together and laughed nervously together. It was a good nervous, a happy feeling of anticipation.
“Was that Taylor Swift?” You realized when you finally placed where you knew that like from.
“Shh. No.” He shook his head. “But yes, it was. You’re not the only one with good music taste.”
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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.
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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.” 
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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. 
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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. 
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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.
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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.
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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!” 
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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. 
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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.” 
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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. 
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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.” 
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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.
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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. 
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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.” 
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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. 
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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.” 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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.” 
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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. 
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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. 
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“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. 
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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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shawnxstyles · 1 year
Text
panty stealer
DATE: JANUARY 14, 2023
summary: flash forces peter to sneak into the girls sorority and steal a pair of panties as a dare. stumbling into the nearest room to save himself from being caught, he doesn’t expect you to be there, and to let him steal the panties you’re wearing.
request: yes!
words: 5.1k
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, oral], praise kink, slight dacryphilia kink, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, alcohol, mentions of weed, and a bit of fluff.
note: frat!peter x sorority!reader / peter masterlist / PART 2
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“are you serious right now, flash?” peter groans with a pinch to his nose. his eyes screw shut in annoyance at flash’s obnoxious behavior.
“of course i am, penis parker!” flash shouts, shoving peter towards the large, white sorority house. “you have to do the dare or else.”
peter groans again, hating himself for ever agreeing to do this stupid game with flash.
the night had started calm and for once, peter was grateful. friday nights were the craziest day at the frat house, but this week, everyone was a bit too busy with schoolwork. except flash apparently.
like all of his other roomies, peter loves a good party. he doesn’t mind thrashing his house every week if that means he can have fantastic parties at his place (okay, maybe he minds a little bit. it gets tedious cleaning up garbage after a while). he knows he won’t be young forever, so what the heck, right?
people never would have guessed that peter was the leader of the frat. shocking, right? everyone would assume it’s flash for his obnoxious and party boy persona or brad for his attractiveness and charm. but what do those qualities have to do with being a leader? everyone else (besides those two) agreed that peter should be the head of the house because he is responsible and smart, unlike those boneheads.
peter often asked himself if he was attractive and if he had charm.
he did, right?
brad was good with the ladies. one glance and a wink made the girls melt into puddles at his feet. every morning when peter woke up early to go to class, a different woman would waltz down the stairs with a glowing, uncontrollable smile in nothing but a t-shirt. peter knew without a doubt that every one-night stand that stumbled down was brad’s; it was rarely flash or the others and ned had a girlfriend who was in the sorority across from us.
peter hooked-up once in a while. he found it more difficult to be like brad when he had college to concentrate on and lives to save inbetween it all. being spider-man in high school was overwhelming at first because it was impossibly hard to hide it. but now, having more freedom in college made everything a bit simpler. just a bit.
flash being spider-man’s “#1 fan!” still made him chuckle every time it came up.
speaking of flash, when peter stumbled through the door in the evening expecting a chill friday night, flash just had to crank up the energy. as per usual.
“what is this?” multiple bottles of liquor were splurged across the dining table when peter walked into the kitchen. flash crossed his arms with a huge smirk plastered onto his face, while ned looked concerned and stressed.
“i tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” ned shook his head in disappointment before walking away to his room.
“we’re having a party. it’s friday, penis,” flash said with an obvious tone. peter could easily have him removed from the frat, being the leader and all. yet he still keeps him here. why must he do this to himself?
“flash, i said no parties today. everyone is tired and stressed, and has a lot of work to do—”
“stressed? i think that’s the best reason for a party. you need to get laid, my brotha,” brad interrupted with an arm around peter’s shoulders and a firm pat to his buff chest. brad is way taller than peter, which some might think intimidates him. but peter is mainly intimidated by intelligence, and brad had the iq of a stick.
peter rolled his eyes at the predictable statement. flash rambles on about how parties are a tradition on friday nights and peter sharply cuts him off with a strict tone.
“ugh, fine! no party, party-pooper parker. but we will be drinking tonight. or else i’m sending an invite to 50 people.”
peter had no choice but to comply. flash, ned, brad, himself, and the other boys are seated on the furniture with the drinks displaced in the center. flash gave peter an ultimatum; play truth or dare or he rings the entire sports program of a party. peter growled and folded.
soon later, there is a sharpie drawing on flash’s ass, a ruler that measured brad’s dick, a flushed ned from downing too many denied truth shots, and laughter bubbling throughout the whole room. peter is the only one who hasn’t gotten asked anything yet and he honestly feels a bit left out. but he also just wants to do his homework and then go to sleep.
“what’ll be, penis parker?” flash inquires with a mischievous look on his face. “truth or dare? or should i say drink or dare?”
peter, not caring at the time, chose dare. “dare.”
“oh, you’re so in for it.”
so in all, peter was basically held against his own will to sneak into the girl’s sorority house. even though he denied the dare profusely and took three shots to make up for it, flash still dangled the party invites over his head like an iron weight waiting to drop.
peter snarled as flash nudged him again impatiently. he thought of an idea that might work. peter would have to do this dare, but would he have to do it alone?
“if you come with me, i’ll give you $50 bucks—” peter sells with raised eyebrows. he licks his lips as the cold breeze rustles the trees and sends slight shivers up his arms. the sky is pitch-black as the heavy clouds cover all the stars. peter felt a storm brewing and he really didn’t want to sneak into the sorority soaking wet.
“pfft, parker, please. i have enough money—”
“—in weed.” peter finishes, causing flash to halt his words. peter knows that flash can never find a good supply because he complains about it all the time. marijuana wasn’t legal on campus, let alone in the state. the trade had the cogs turning in flash’s head.
“alright, deal,” flash gives in and elbows peter as a form of agreement. then flash motivates brad and ned to join, heading straight for the zone as a group.
their goal was to grab a pair of underwear and leave without being caught. as spider-man, that should be easy, right?
for some odd reason, the back door was unlocked. you’d think girls would be more secure and observant than guys, but maybe they forgot. after hopping over the trimmed gardening hedges, the four boys crept through the door and into the kitchen.
unlike peter’s frat, the sorority girls had two big rules that they made known to everyone; no hook-ups allowed and no frat guys. ever. the girls didn’t throw parties like peter, they only went to them, so their place was like a holy sanctuary.
when the guys tiptoed into the kitchen, peter wasn’t surprised the place was damn-near spotless. most of the interior was pearly white; couches, love-seats, tables, counter, cabinets— it was like walking into an insane asylum with minor color accents.
it was at least midnight by now, so the girls had to be asleep. tiptoeing as silent as possible up the stairs, peter leads until they’re all standing in the middle of the large hallway with rapid, contained breaths. flash, being the scaredy-cat he is, follows last and nervously trips over the final step. he slips, tumbling down multiple levels with nosy thuds and bangs of his elbows and knees. all of the guys sprout wide eyes and strained, silent gestures to warn him to stop falling and making an absurd amount of noise.
peter gets goosebumps, hair rising on his skin as he gets a shiver down his spine. his hearing intensifies, picking up mumbled whispers and light footsteps with his spider sense. his eyes wander frantically as he scatters his brain for an idea. nothing comes to mind fast enough, as a door down the hall creaks open. brad and ned drag flash up the stairs, but freeze when they hear the door. out of instinct, peter sprints to the nearest door, slyly slipping inside. he closes the door gently, contradicting the pounding of his heart, without a noise being made. he releases a sigh as his forehead rests on the doorframe.
“what are you doing?” peter nearly shrieks when you casually question him. he stares at you, eyes impossibly wider than before. your arms are crossed as you sit on the side of your bed. peter swallows harshly, gazing at your appearance.
your legs look smooth and supple, and very much bare. he assumes you have underwear on under the t-shirt you’re sporting, and is proved correct when you shift to dangle your legs off the bed. his eyes are drawn to the small sight of your panties that tease underneath your shirt. you smirk, arms still crossed as you let him check you out.
“i-um-uh,” cheeks wildly red, he swallows and averts his eyes to the ground. how does he explain such a stupid thing without sounding like a jackass? i was dared to invade the sorority house. sorry. oh, also, can i have your panties? “it was a dare.”
“to sneak into my room?” your head tilts as you lift yourself off the bed and stalk towards him. peter’s cheeks grow redder while his heart pounds brutally in his chest.
besides the embarrassment flowing like blood through his veins, you were the simple kind of gorgeous that made his knees weak. the kind that is stunning in their own skin and that radiates beautiful energy like magical fairy dust. and peter nearly fainted when he saw your lack of clothes.
he’s seen you many times before; you share a class with him and came to some of his parties. he never talked to you in fear of rejection, but now he doesn’t really have a choice.
usually, he has more confidence with girls, but this is a very unfortunate situation where he lost every skill he’s ever known. even talking.
“no—” ear-piercing screams interrupt peter’s stuttering from the other side of the door. footsteps run all over the wooden floor as low profanities leave the guys’ mouths. “i think she found them.”
“you think?” you clip with raised eyebrows. peter inhales, losing some of his anxiousness at his thoughts of the boys being caught.
poor ned. betty’s going to kill him.
flash deserved it, though.
brad is probably getting one of their numbers.
peter shakes his head and sets his thoughts straight.
“okay, look. flash dared me to do this… stupid thing and i convinced them all to do it with me. i wanted to do nothing but relax tonight,” peter admits with a stressed exhale. you glare at him with squinted eyes, trying to decipher what has him so worked up. it’s not like he got screamed at and kicked out like the other guys. knowing some of your roomies, they might be a lot worse than just kicking them out. you get closer to him and ponder what he said.
“what was the dare, parker?” you shoot a harsh glare at him, daggers that force him to answer. your head tilts with curiosity as your heartbeats sporadically. you’ve never had a guy in your room before, and for that first guy to be peter parker has your heart bouncing around your chest like a boomerang. you’ve had your eye on peter for a few months now; not crazy obsessive, but you won’t deny the blood-rushing crush you’ve grown for the frat boy.
how did you stumble that low? a frat boy? jeez.
peter can’t be too shocked that you know his name, let alone his last name, but you saying it still causes him to forget some of the words on his tongue. many shouts are heard from outside the door, but your chests are nearly touching as you gaze up at him and then the outside world is practically silenced.
“i had to steal some… panties,” he mumbles, voice low and quiet. why does it sound so dirty?
“panties?” you repeat in a hushed voice as your surprised eyes blink a few times. you swallow, clit beginning to throb at the word out of his mouth.
“yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “do you have any that i can…borrow?”
your mind hazes at his question. you tried to remember where your underwear was and if it was clean. but as a clear opportunity lies in front of you, you decide to run with it. you look down with a racing heart, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt.
“i…i have these ones,” you lightly ball up your t-shirt, revealing your laced panties to peter. he quietly coughs, cock starting to harden behind the zipper of his jeans. you glance up at his reddening expression through your eyelashes, devilish eyes hiding behind an innocent facade. confidence and lust ease your anxiety. “will these work?”
“um, yeah,” peter coughs again as rosy embarrassment crawls up his neck and blood rushes to his cock. you strut over to the mattress, rocking your hips teasingly, and peter instinctively follows with his heart in his throat. you lie on your back and spread your legs, arousal dripping from you at every movement. peter watches from a side angle, holding his breath as the tension rises.
“well, you’re not much of a panty-stealer if i just give them to you. come and steal them, parker,” you say with as much confidence as you could muster up. your heart was so loud in your ears you almost couldn’t hear yourself. speechless, peter walks to the front of the bed and kneels down, eye-level with your pussy.
he crumples the shirt over your hips, your legs automatically spreading wider. his senses heighten and pick up on the scent of your arousal. a small patch of it can be seen in the middle of your underwear, sending painful pulses down to his forever hardening cock. his thumbs dance around the laced hem, teasing you to see how much he can go.
he would say some of his confidence is back now.
he hooks his fingers under the band, sliding the flimsy fabric down while sticky arousal slings to you. he stuffs the damp material in his back pocket. both of your hearts rack and hands tremble at the extreme intensity, waiting for someone to do something. anything.
peter decides to be that person and resumes his fingers to your hips where the hem used to be. your folds glisten with pent-up arousal, just begging for him to touch you. your puffy clit throbs, neglected, and your thighs subtly spasm trying to remain open. peter grinds on his molars, nearly moaning at the glorious sight. his rough pads trace your smooth skin as he drags lower, dangerously close to where you’re yearning for him.
“peter,” you whisper, holding your breath, so you don’t move a muscle, even though they’re involuntarily shaking with need. he hums, the dirtiest thoughts flowing through his mind. “d-don’t you have to go? what if you get caught?”
“i can spare a few minutes…” his gaze is hazy and distracted, voice gravelly with lust. you clench desperately around nothing as you quietly plead for him to do something. his thumb tests the waters and finally begins circling on your clit, sending electricity up your body. you yelp at the sudden pressure, naturally grinding your hips for more friction. “hmm? don’t you want me to spend a few minutes with you?
his words are taunting and condescending, making your mind go blurry while the words disintegrate from your tongue. the rough pad of his thumb rubs faster while you clench around nothing again, chest heaving.
“i want more than a few minutes,” you moan as his middle finger pets along your soaking slit, teasing you painfully until your eyes roll back. you can sense the smirk growing on his face based on the satisfied hum he responds with.
“more? greedy girl,” peter slides his middle finger into you without warning causing you to release a long string of moans. “shh, you don’t want them to hear you, do you? then we’ll both get caught.”
you shake your head.
“then be a good girl and be quiet for me,” peter demands softly. you nod shakily, as another finger pumps into you rapidly. he thrusts brutally into you, fingertips brushing over your g-spot. you melt as bliss laces throughout your body.
“it’s always the quiet ones who are the loudest,” a devilish and dirty smirk dances on his lips while your teeth sink painfully into your bottom lip. you slap your palm over your mouth to remain quiet as thrilled moans threaten to pour out of you. your revolving hips are halted by his strong forearm, allowing him to curl his digits deliciously into you. you mewl with screwed eyes, back arching at the immense pleasure.
“i’m so close, peter,” you whisper, scared that if you speak any louder your moans will betray you and alert the whole neighborhood. peter subtly grinds his hips into the front of the mattress, cock dangerously hard from your whimpering and whining.
“can i taste you? been dying to since you opened your legs for me,” peter asks while your thighs tremble and your pussy contracts tightly around his digits. you mumble out a shuddery please before his mouth is devouring you.
he never removes his fingers, pumping ruthlessly while his mouth explores your slippery folds. he sucks harshly on your throbbing clit, a muffled wail escaping through your hand. warm and soothing, his tongue glides curiously and sneaks into your undeniably soft cunt. the moan you release is unholy and way too loud. at least right now.
peter wants nothing more than to hear your sweet, sweet moans crying his name while he makes you come in several different ways. but tonight was not the night. he wasn’t trying to get reported and have intruder as a new notch on his belt.
he had a good feeling you wouldn’t run off and report him though.
the idea of it all got him off much more than he would have ever thought. and looking at you, he could say that same.
his mouth plops off of you, lips swollen and puffy from sucking.
“come all over my tongue. let me taste you, sweet girl,” his tone is euphonious and seductive, yet demanding. his fingers savagely thrust into your seeping hole that clenches tightly around him. your back arches off the mattress as your thighs shake from the upcoming euphoria.
peter’s words send your body into overdrive. your muscles contract and your stomach tightens as your orgasm ripples through your body like a heavenly wave. cum oozes out of you and onto his tongue, slurping up every ounce of your juices until there is nothing left.
“such a good girl,” peter praises while he licks away your arousal from his rosy lips. heat crawls up your neck at your sudden vulnerability. you attempt to close your legs to hide, but he keeps them spread with his rough hands. “you’re going to hide yourself after i just ate you out? we’re just getting started, baby.”
peter pulls his shirt off deliberately, showcasing his bulky abs and muscles that made your clit pulse with desire again. he looks like he was man-made, a real-life sculpture with chiseled muscles and perfectly ridged abs. you were insatiable to this man, who snuck into your room to steal something— you should be mad at him. furious. but when his boxers fall down his legs, only dirty and needy emotions and thoughts are left.
your eyes widen at his impressive length; you’ve only been with a few guys in the past, but none of them were this big. you were scared, yet excited to feel his cock stretch you out sinfully. you imagined how long you would feel him inside of you afterwards, soreness like a good workout at the gym.
“you’re so big,” you mumble, not hiding the fact that you were blatantly eyeing his raging cock with hunger, fear, and lust.
“it’ll fit. don’t worry, doll,” he hovers over you, smoothing your hair away from your worried eyes. “do you have a condom?”
you stretch out your arm into your night stand, blindly grabbing a tin-foiled package. you seductively rip it with your teeth, causing peter to groan in impatience. he snatches it away from you and swiftly slides it onto his sturdy cock.
“such a fucking tease,” he hisses, running the tip of his cock along your folds, which were already soaked in arousal again. “are you ready?”
you nod your head surely, more than ready for him to fill you up.
“you’re one to talk,” you sass, rolling your eyes, which were no longer as worried, but full of needy anticipation. he huffs out a single chuckle, eyes strained on his dick rubbing around your wetness tediously.
“speaking of talking, don’t,” peter thrusts into you savagely, making you gasp and shriek. your hand immediately goes to his shoulder for leverage, nails digging desperately into the meat of his skin. the other tightens securely onto your mouth to keep quiet, even though it’s probably useless now.
hoarse profanities fall from his lips as he shifts around your snug hole. your velvety walls choke his cock so fucking good, he doesn’t think he’ll last any longer. and then you clench even tighter around him, sending peter’s eyes rolling back into brain.
“you’re so fucking tight,” peter groans in your ear, flicking his hips upwards into you. your body trembles in overwhelming pleasure, muffled whines begging to be released.
slapping skin and hushed moans fill the air. peter fits a hand between the two of you and rubs your throbbing clit perfectly. his lips travel down from your ear to your neck, kissing along your skin. his tongue discovers your soft spot, sucking harshly until you’re clutching onto him for dear life.
“you’re so good, peter. so deep, too, oh god,” you can’t help the lusty wail that tumbles from your raspy throat when he rapidly rolls his hips, repeatedly touching your sensitive g-spot. he growls at the praise, every action being intensified by the comment. you notice this and smile with a hint of devilishness behind it.
“you may be smiling now,” peter pants, muscles popping and flexing from the position. “but you’ll be crying soon.”
if possible, his thrusts got harder. and deeper. and faster. he was pounding into your cunt like there was no tomorrow, buckets of arousal leaking from you and all around him. peter would pull his cock fully out just to slam it back in, and it made you wither away into another dimension. his balls beat against you harshly with every brisk thrust of his body. his skilled thumb pets your clit, electrifying all your nerves into blissful flames.
there was so much to feel; the biting of his kisses on your neck, the rough texture of his thumb pad on your clit, the long, thick length plunging barbarically into you, and the heaviness of his weight above you. you were so overwhelmed by the pleasure, water brimmed at your tear ducts. soon, full-blown tears are streaming down your face from the euphoria running through your veins.
that familiar wicked smile curls on peter’s face with your appearance; wild hair, tear-stained cheeks, and swollen lips. he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful in front of him.
his cock twitches when you whimper loudly underneath the palm of your hand, begging to let you come. contracting on his shaft, your nails stab his shoulder blade until crescent moon marks appear. a strangled moan leaves him when your body rolls up towards him, back arching harshly.
“need to come. so bad, peter,” you whine. his name from your lips drives him mental.
“fuck, y/n,” he sighs heavily. “come around my cock like the good girl you are.”
with those words, your second orgasm tumbles through your body like a thunderstorm. peter slams his lips against yours to keep you quiet, all your pent-up moans turning into needy hums in your throat. stars spot in your vision and you thought you might pass out from being fucked into oblivion. you wouldn’t even be mad— it was worth it.
summoning all your energy, your muscles tense as the liquid floods out of you. your back arches, making your bare breasts push up against peter’s chest. at the same time, peter comes with a string of curse words against your plush lips. he shoots his load into the condom, balls tightening while his eyes screw shut. he steadies his pumps and slowly pulls out of you, never wanting to leave.
you whimper at the emptiness, already missing his cock. he ties the knot and tosses it into the garbage under your desk. peter slips into his boxers and immediately finds the small box of tissues on your night stand. grabbing a few, he cleans you delicately like an antique doll as if he didn’t just ravish your body and soul.
you were beyond dumbstruck as he wiped you up. the few people you have been with never stayed long enough for aftercare, and even though it should be a necessity, the action still made your heart lurch for peter. speaking of your heart, it was beating a mile a minute. sex was a physical activity, yet having a huge crush on someone felt a lot more physically demanding. but you really liked the feeling.
a million thoughts brisked through your head; how does he feel? does he feel the same? did he hate it? did he love it? you shake your head. if you didn’t stop yourself, you would ruin any chance you might have by overthinking too much.
when you refocus your eyes to the moment, peter has his jeans fully on and his shirt in his hand. he slides it on and then looks at you worryingly, seeming as though you’re still naked and haven’t moved.
“are you okay? did i go too hard? fuck—”
“yes—i mean no! shit,” you stutter after interrupting him and close your eyes in embarrassment. “yes, i’m fine. i’m more than fine. that was… really good, peter. like really good.”
peter’s tensed shoulders relax as his face melts from a concerned expression to a soft one. you slip your large t-shirt on and stand up from your bed. your legs are a bit unbalanced and wobbly, and peter can’t help but chuckle as he holds you steady by your hips.
“stop laughing! you did this!” you whisper-yell with a faked angry face.
“oh, i know. next time, i’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk, let alone stand,” he winks with an arrogant smile cascading his lips. familiar heat creeps up your neck and ears, making you all tingly inside at the idea of a next time with peter.
“next time?” large rings of hope surround your irises as you stare into peter’s. his arrogance slightly fades as he itches with nervousness.
“yeah, if that’s what you want, of course,” why is he holding his breath? why is his heart beating so unhealthy fast?
“if i say yes, does that mean you’re going to try to steal my panties again?” you try to hold back your grin as you joke, peering up at him with squinted eyes.
“are you going to let me steal your panties again?” he clicks his tongue with his all too familiar smirk. he loves your playful demeanor and your attempts to withhold a smile.
you pretend to think, really debating. peter can’t help but stare at you in awe. you were beautiful, and he regrets not approaching you earlier because you were… well, he didn’t really know you yet, but he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. even if you told him to fuck off and never to see him again, he knew that he would never forget you or this night.
you push yourself closer to peter, chest to chest. you can both feel the rapid beating of your hearts through your shirts. however, you stand, gazing confidently at peter. he watches you as you lean right in like you were going to kiss him.
“mm maybe. you might just have to find out yourself,” your breathy words linger on his lips as you back away and casually get into the bed. you unfold the comforter and tuck yourself in, like you didn’t just give peter a semi-hard on in his pants.
suddenly a loud crash is heard from outside, alerting both of your heads to peer out through the window.
“my car!” flash cries so high-pitched and whiny, he probably woke up the entire neighborhood. peter isn’t surprised that one of the sorority girls destroyed his car because he deserved it. someone needed to humble him anyway. you both laugh behind the palm of your hands at flash’s girly scream.
with that, peter realizes that he has to go and that he no longer has any minutes to spare. flash, brad, and ned probably weren’t worried about peter while they were out-running the girls. but now that the girls had done the damage, the boys would soon realize peter’s absence.
“better hide your panties. this isn’t over,” peter walks over to the side of your bed and kisses your forehead delicately. he cracks open the window, turning to you with half his body out. with a wink from him and a gasp from you, he jumps down the two-story window without hesitation. your heart flutters at his gentle kiss that lingers on your skin, fingers pressed against the spot his lips last touched.
rain begins to splash on the glass as sprinkles of water drip into your room through the open window. you purposefully don’t close it, even when you know the carpet will get soaked throughout the night. you welcomed the idea that if peter wanted to come back, he could, simply by sneaking through the window the same way he left.
so many other thoughts cloud your mind, making you lie wide awake. you wondered if his heart was still thumping hastily like the rain pattering on your window and onto your floor. you wondered what he looked like when he was drenched in natural rain water. probably breathtakingly beautiful; soaking wet hair and a childish smile adorning his rosy face while he laughs wholeheartedly.
as you roll over to turn off your lamp with a wistful sigh, you remember that you never even got his number. while trying to guess which set of numbers fit peter parker the best, you fall asleep with a yearning heart, flapping its wings adoringly in your chest.
oh, god, you were down. and it was bad.
what you didn’t know was that peter was down too, but even worse than you.
tags: @raajali3
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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
-🧸
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pairing: bf!peter parker x reader w/c: 750 a/n: hi anon!! thnk u for requesting i had sm fun writing this! :)
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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.
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“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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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
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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.
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devilfic · 5 months
Text
❝late-bloomer❞
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plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.
a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha
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Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"
You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.
You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."
No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.
But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."
"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."
"I'm serious, Pete."
He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."
"How did it feel? Do you know?"
"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."
Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.
You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."
You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.
A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"
"Hm?"
"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."
Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"
A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.
You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.
But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.
At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.
Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.
But it wasn't laughing you worried about.
"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.
Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."
Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.
Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.
"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"
There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."
Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"
"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."
"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.
You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.
It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."
"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."
You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."
You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.
Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."
It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."
"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"
"I really don't want to. Move."
"Why are you shutting me out?"
"Because I want to go home. Move."
"Is it because of what I said?"
"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."
The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.
Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.
"I'll see you later, Pete."
You let his front door shut on its own.
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It hasn't been great.
What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.
You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.
So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.
It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.
And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.
Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.
You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-
He's sitting in your kitchen.
Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.
You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."
Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."
Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"
"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.
You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."
"Busy avoiding your best friend."
You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.
The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.
"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."
Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.
"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."
"It's not a big deal?"
"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."
"So it doesn't matter at all."
"Correct."
"Right."
"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."
You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.
Suddenly, you're released.
You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."
You smile, "And I appreciate that."
Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"
"Zilch. Nada."
"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."
You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"
"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."
Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."
"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"
"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."
"And now we do."
"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"
He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."
You're six years old again.
You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.
You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.
And you're thinking... you start thinking something.
You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.
Peter's still staring at you, waiting.
Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.
But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.
You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.
When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.
Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."
Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.
Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."
He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."
You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.
Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.
You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.
You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"
You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"
Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."
"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."
"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"
"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."
"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."
Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"
His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."
You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.
Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."
"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"
"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"
You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."
You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.
This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.
So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.
Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.
You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"
You nod, speechless.
Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."
You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."
Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."
"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"
"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"
You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.
He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.
Did it? You stare up at Peter.
"We can try as many times as you want."
You might have a very different problem than you started with.
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taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes
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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
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"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.”
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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?
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ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist
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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
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“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?”
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tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @ellebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx
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The forgotten child
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Pairing's : fem! reader x peter parker, tony stark daughter! x tony stark, tony stark daughter! x peter parker
Warnings: really sad angst, jealousy, daddy issues, neglect, lmk if i missed anything! :)
Summary: dad of the year award? surely isn't going too him
a/n : I know the gif doesn't really match the theme of this story I just really liked it. I did not reread this so please ignore any grammar mistakes. Also, I'm not sure if i wrote a panic attack correctly but I wrote based on what their like for me. hope you all enjoy!
you really tried not to become the forgotten child, always tried you're very hardest to live up to your father expectations, trying to make him proud in hope's he'd show some form of attention.
always studying to get straight a's even through countless anxiety attacks from fear of failing and disappointing your father.
all you ever wanted was reassurance, and if you ever got lucky enough a "You did a good job" after getting a high score on a test.
but it never came, it would forever be something you longed to hear. he would usually just mumble a small, quiet "congrats" as his mind stayed focused on his work and his eyes stuck to the blueprint laid out on the table Infront of him.
you always tried you're best not to feel jealous whenever your father held morgan, you had no ressentiment towards morgan whatsoever, in fact she was the one that kept you smiling most days. although you couldn't help but feel your heart tighten from jealousy as you watched them have daddy daughter time
you really did try you're best to be happy for your younger sister, but you couldn't ignore that aching feeling. all you wanted was the attention she had that your heart ached so desperately for, but it never came despite your countless attempts.
you we're astound to hear a new avenger had been recruited, you always enjoyed meeting new people. mainly because they gave you attention they didn't even know you craved.
you always seeked to see the best in people, no matter what the circumstances we're. including peter parker, there was nothing wrong with him, he wasn't a bad person in fact quite a good one, and if you weren't so envious of him you possibly could have been friends with the boy. but you watched how peter and your father clicked so easily becoming like father and son.
it made the knots in your stomach tighten as you watched them spend time together, it made you feel as if something was wrong with you, like maybe if you tried harder or changed, he'd give you the attention you deserved.
your mother, pepper always said he loved you just as much as he loved morgan or even peter, but you knew the truth as much as you ignored it you knew. but oh, how you wish he did.
"Mom, I'm home" you called out knowing if father was home, he wouldn't answer you. after not receiving an answer, you decided to look through the house in search of your mother, after a couple of minutes searching you still hadn't found her and decided she probably went out and took morgan with her. you heard talking but it sounded like your father, and peter?? "what's peter doing here?" you wondered. you decided to peak you're head through the door and saw peter and tony standing with their backs faced away from you, working on some upgrades for peter's suit.
"you're a pretty great kid peter" tony told him as he smiled at him patting his shoulder. a wave of jealously hit your chest as you watched them, your throat tightening. "Thank you, Mr. stark," peter smiled cheekily as your fingers clenched into a fist at your side.
"Becoming like my son."
once those words left Tony's lips, your mouth went dry, your head aching as you backed away from the door as quietly as possible, you're breathing picking up rapidly. you quickly made your way to your room, tears forming in your eyes, you walked into your room and shut the door softly as your hands started shaking as you paced around your room quickly, trying to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you never liked crying, it made you feel weak.
you're breathing came out in heavy gasp as you struggled to breathe. you leaned against the wall coughing as you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop the words from replaying in your mind.
"Becoming like my son" continuously echoed through your head as soft sobs left your lips, you didn't want to feel this way, envious of what your father and peter had. it's not peter's fault about what your father feels about you so why hold him accountable. he'll never love you, at least not like he loves peter. you can't figure out why? you always tried you're best to impress him, but nothing seemed to be enough for him, it's like he didn't even care about your existence.
you stumbled over to your bed, taking deep breathes as your body grew exhausted from crying. you plopped down on your bed tiredly as you snuggled up against your blanket that was where your pillows we're supposed to be, you grabbed a pillow and hugged it too sleep.
you didn't want to put the blame on peter because it wasn't his fault, but a little piece of your heart blamed peter parker.
a/n: CLIFFHANGER!?!? I decided to leave it for now because I haven't come up with an ending that I thought fit the way I wanted so if you guys have ideas, please let me know. reblog's are highly appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
4K notes · View notes
p3terparker · 7 months
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𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
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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!!
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“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 · 16 days
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Just to Learn That You Never Cared
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Synopsis: always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret
requested/idea by @usoppsstar
Masterlist
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“Oh, hey. Your girlfriend left this in class.” One of Peter’s classmates said as he tossed Peter a hoodie.
“Oh. Thanks.” Peter said before realizing what the person had said. He turned the hoodie over in his hands and recognized it as yours. His face warmed up in a blush when he realized you had just been mistaken for his girlfriend. He shoved the hoodie into his bag and wondered if he should tell you or not.
Peter saw you later that night on a rooftop you frequented often. You were in your suit, as was he, but had your mask sitting beside you. You were munching on a bag of chips and wordlessly extended them to him when he landed on the rooftop beside you. He smiled graciously and took a few before sitting down next to you. Your knees were touching but neither of you moved away.
“You left this in physics, dingus.” Peter said and handed you your hoodie.
“Oh, thanks. We had to run out of there so fast to save that lady. I must’ve left it behind.” You smiled gratefully and pulled it over your head. Peter felt bad that his high tech suit had built in heaters and your homemade suit was probably leaving you freezing every night. He wanted to suggest sharing his warmth, but he didn’t want to overstep.
“I know. Thank God she called the police on those kids for selling lemonade without a permit. I’m really glad we left a test to go witness that heinous crime.”
“It’s not all bad. We did get to see the cops arrest her for wasting their time by making a fake police report, which is always satisfying. And the kids gave us free lemonade. But I think calling it “homemade” was bullshit. I know Minute Maid when I taste it.” You replied, making Peter chuckle.
“You’re right. Both those things were enjoyable.” Peter agreed. “But I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel like we have to leave class every other day.”
“I know. Why did we have to pick a college in such a Karen ridden neighborhood?” You sighed.
“Because we wanted to go to the good school with the good science program. We should’ve known the neighborhood would be full of bored housewives who call the police whenever they have a minor complaint. It was our own hubris.”
“It was.” You chuckled and said looked over at him. You exchanged soft smiles before you looked over at the city horizon. Peters eyes never left you and he cleared his throat to get your attention.
“So, uh, my aunt and I were gonna get Chinese food later. At the place that got shut down for being a front for money laundering but that was really just a front for a second Chinese food chain.”
“Oh, I love that place.”
“Yeah. It’s great.” He nodded. “Anyways, you should totally come-“
Peter was cut off by the police radio he wired to his phone going off. He rolled his eyes and checked what the alert was.
“Damn it. Robbery at the bakery on 9th.” He told you.
“Lowkey, I’d do the same. Their cream puffs made me cream.” You said as you put your mask back on.
“Haha, yeah.” Peter chuckled. “Wait, what?”
“You should get some sleep. I’ll handle the robbery. But I’ll catch you tomorrow, Parker. Get home safe.” You saluted him before falling backwards off the building.
“I love you too.” Peter sighed.
“Did you say something?” You asked and popped back up.
“No.” Peter quickly lied.
“Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.” You waved to him and disappeared again. Peter let out another sigh before swinging home.
The next day, you ran after one of your classmates once class was let out.
“Hey, Carly. I emailed you my notes from the class you missed.” You told her.
“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” She replied. “Oh, and could you tell your boyfriend that band practice is in the gym today?”
“Yeah, sure. No problem.” You agreed. She was about to walk away when you realized what she had said.
“Wait, what am I saying?” You wondered. “Who’s my boyfriend?”
“You know. That guy with the prescription shoes.” Carly answered. You tilted your head in confusion until you realized you knew exactly who she was talking about.
“Wait, Peter?” You laughed in surprise. You expected her to laugh too and reveal she was just kidding but she looked completely serious.
“Oh, right. Peter. Why do I always think his name is Timmy?” Carly wondered.
“Because he looks like a Timmy. He gets it all the time.” You waved your hand. “And his shoes are not prescription. He just bought women’s platform shoes because he wanted to be taller and didn’t think anyone could tell.”
“We can.” Carly mumbled.
“I know.” You agreed. “But, I’m getting off topic. Timmy is not my boyfriend. I mean, Peter is not my boyfriend.”
“Whatever label you guys use, can you tell him that wind ensemble is meeting in the gym instead of the choir room? The sopranos kicked us out again to practice or do drugs or something.” Carly explained. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and tried to figure out if she was joking or not.
“The label? I’m so lost. Who told you that Peter’s my boyfriend?”
“Nobody told me.” She shrugged. “Everyone just knows that you guys are a couple.”
“Well how would they know something that isn’t true?” You asked and folded your arms.
“I mean, it’s not like you guys try to keep it a secret. Between all the whispering and staying close by each other. Plus you’re always sneaking out of class together or showing up late. And if one of you is absent, the other always is too. It’s been like that since high school. People just put two and two together I guess. Why, did you want to to be secret?”
“I didn’t want it to be anything. We’re not even dating.” You insisted and felt like you were going crazy.
“You don’t have to deny it.” Carly laughed. “I know feelings are weird and gross and stuff and you’ve never been the relationship type, but I think this guy is good for you. He brings something out in you. I don’t know. But you guys are cute. I love seeing the nice loser and assertive pretty girl troupe in real life.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.” You calmed down momentarily and smiled a little. Carly walked away and your smile quickly faded when you remembered what she had said. You looked around the hallway and saw another student holding an instrument.
“Hey. Band nerd.” You called out to him.
“Me?” He asked and pointed to himself.
“Yes, you. You had to let go of your saxophone case to point to yourself. Have you seen my boyfriend today?” You asked him.
“Peter? I haven’t seen him since yesterday in-“
“That sentence better not end with “wind ensemble” or I’m gonna lose it.”
“It was wind ensemble.” He said quickly.
“I’m leaving.” You shook your head and walked away from him. You pulled out your phone and went straight to your schools “campus sweethearts” page on instagram. Sure enough, there was a picture of you and Peter sitting next to each other right at the top of the page. You had your head thrown back laughing at something he was saying and he was looking at you fondly. You let out a shocked gasp and before walking out into the courtyard to look for Peter. You spotted him on a bench and smiled.
“Yes. Thank you, small campus”. You pumped your fist and went to sit next to him.
“Oh, hi. I was just thinking about you-“
“Someone is spreading a horrible rumor about you.” You cut him off.
“Oh no.” Peter frowned. “What is it? Is it bad?”
“Horrible.” You shook your head. “Peter, they’re saying you’re in wind ensemble.”
“Oh, I am.” Peter shrugged.
“Huh?”
“I play the clarinet . See. Clarinet.” Peter said and lifted up his little black clarinet case.
“Huh?” You said louder.
“I used to play in high school, pre-bite but post 9/11. I saw a flyer for orchestra on campus so I joined.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” You practically shouted. Peter knew you weren’t happy but felt strangely honored that you were so upset over him not telling you something about her personal life.
“Because I know how you feel about band nerds.” He replied. “And you and I don’t really talk about non-work related things. I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Are you kidding me? Of course I care.” You insisted. “My rumored boyfriend has been in wind ensemble this whole time and I didn’t even know?”
“Wait, rumored boyfriend? Who, me?” Peter asked in surprised.
“So you didn’t know about this either?”
“No. I mean, someone did refer to you as my girlfriend the other day but I thought it was just an accident. People think you and me are dating?” Peter asked and tried not to look as pleased as he felt.
“Apparently. I’ve had multiple people refer to you as my boyfriend today. And look. We’re on the campus couples Instagram page.” You said and held up your phone.
“Ew. We have one of those?” Peter grimaced and took your phone to see the picture better.
“Yeah. I honestly think the principle runs it.” You replied. Peter was quiet as he stared at the picture for a while.
“What?” You wondered.
“Nothing. This just a cute picture of us. And I think the only picture of us.” He said with a shy smile. You frowned and looked at the picture again before realizing he was right.
“Carly said people think we’re dating since we’re always sneaking off together.” You told him. Peter thought out this for a minute and then made another connection.
“Ohhhh.” He said and nodded his head.
“What?”
“This explains why the boys congratulated me on the bus back to New York after the Washington monument trip for losing my virginity at a historic landmark.”
“You lost your virginity on that trip? To who?” You whispered harshly and felt jealousy burning through your veins.
“You, apparently.” He laughed. “You and I disappeared to get the glowy alien egg bomb thing back and I guess everyone assumed we were off desecrating a national monument.”
“Oh my God. That was like 3 years ago.” You realized. “People have thought we were dating this whole time? We need to put a stop to this.”
“Yeah. You’re right. Or…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.
“Or?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Or, we lean into it.” He suggested. “We let people think it. We encourage it, even.”
“Why would we do that?”
“People have been suspicious about where we go and what we’re doing since high school. We can only fake so many illnesses and I ran out of grandparents to lie about the death of by junior year. So if people already made up a reason, maybe we should let them think that. We don’t have to go out of our way to confirm it but we can keep the assumption going to keep them from finding out what we’re really doing.”
“So you think we should let people think we’re dating so they stop wondering about what we’re always off doing?”
“That’s exactly what I just said, yes.” Peter nodded.
“Hey. Be nicer to your fake girlfriend.” You said and smacked his arm.
“I’m sorry. I will.” Peter blushed and rubbed his arm. You felt bad for hitting him and wrapped both arms around him to rub them up and down. He smiled softly at you and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
“You play the clarinet?” You asked after a minute.
“Squidward made it look so cool.” Peter shrugged.
“Did he?” You asked, making Peter laugh.
“No.” He admitted.
The next day, you and Peter walked to school together with the understanding that from then on out, you were going to play the part of a happy couple. You weren’t going to go around announcing it to everyone or anything. You just needed to convince the few that didn’t already believe the rumor and confirm things for the ones who did believe it.
“You ready for this?” You asked Peter as you stepped into campus.
“I think so. Maybe we should hold hands or something. You know, since people think we’re dating.” Peter suggested and tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter to him.
“I guess so.” You shrugged and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took your hand and took note of the way it fit in his like it was made for him.
“This is weird.” You whispered to him, popping his bubble.
“Why? Are my hands sweaty?” He panicked.
“No. Just really, really hot.” You told him. “It’s just weird that nobody seems to care that we’re holding hands right now.”
“I mean, we are just two random people with almost no social presence.”
“That’s true. I guess I just thought people would care more.” You admitted as you looked around the campus. No one was phased by you and Peter, but he was too busy enjoying the moment to realize it.
“Are you disappointed?” He asked you.
“Yeah. I wore my best bra because I thought I’d be getting more attention today.” You frowned and adjusted the strap of your bra.
“It’s okay. I’ll take one for the team and stare at your boobs.” Peter assured you.
“Aw. Thank you.” You gushed and gave his hand a squeeze.
You got to your physics class and sat together at your usual lab table. Peter looked around the classroom while you carried on as usual.
“Maybe I should put my arm around you. You know, to really convince people.” Peter suggested with a shy blush on his face.
“Is that really something people do?” You genuinely wondered. “I feel like I never see couples with their arms around each other.”
“Actually, I don’t think I have either. But let’s try it anyway.” He said and wrapped an arm around you. You scooted closer to him so that you could comfortably lean into him. You quickly realized you didn’t hate it and let out a content sigh.
“Hm.” Peter made a little noise at the back of his throat.
“What?” You asked him.
“Our height difference makes this hurt my shoulder.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear.
“Then move your arm.” You whispered back.
“I can’t. I just wrapped it around you. It’ll look weird if I immediately take it off.” Peter said as he covered behind him to see who was looking.
“Or, consider this. Nobody in this entire city, and dare I say world, cares where your arm is right now.” You whispered harshly.
“Fine. I’ll remove it. But I have to give a reason.” He told you before loudly clearing his throat.
“Ah. Sorry, babe. I can’t cuddle you right now. My arm is sore from band practice.” Peter said loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear him. You hung your head in shame and heard people murmuring about his strange comment.
“Oh God.” Peter gulped. “People are looking. They’re gonna know something is up. I have to put it back.”
He went to put his arm back around you but you stopped him before he could draw any more attention to the two of you.
“Just do this.” You whispered to him and pulled his stool closer to you and turned towards him a little. Your knees and were touching and you were now facing each other.
“That’s it? No one can even see this.” Peter said in disappointment. He thought being your fake boyfriend would bring you guys closer but you were sitting the way you always sat in class.
“It’s not about what people can see. It’s about proximity.” You explained. “We’re sitting closer together than anyone else is without being egregious about it. It’s a simple touch. If we’ve been together as long as people think we have, we don’t need to be wrapped around each other all the time. A simple touch to let the other know we’re there is all we need.”
Peter was silent as he stared at you following your explanation. He stared for so long that you felt yourself blush under the eye contact.
“What?” You asked him.
“I like the way you explain things.” Peter said simply. You quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see the effect that comment had on you and took a moment to collect yourself.
“It’s just something I thought of.” You shrugged.
“I know. But I never would have thought of that. Especially not as naturally as it did for you. You’re so quick.”
“Thank you.” You laughed shyly and found yourself unable to look away from him. Peter opened his mouth to say something to keep the momentum rolling but his phone interrupted him.
“Shoot. Sus-tivity on the b bridge.” He whispered.
“What the hell does that mean?” You asked at full volume.
“It means there’s suspicious activity on the Brooklyn bridge.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to act fast so I didn’t have time to say the whole thing.”
“But you just said the whole thing. And the abridged version. So it took twice as long.”
“Shh.” He waved his hand. “We gotta go.”
You reluctantly collected your things and took Peter’s hand to pull him out of his seat. Peter followed you out the classroom but the teacher cleared her throat when you walked by.
“And where are you two going?” She asked. You and Peter exchanged looks as the class snickered and murmured their theories about what exactly you were heading off to do.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Pepper. My girlfriend and I have to leave class unexpectedly. Please excuse us. It’s urgent.” Peter’s said politely.
“I bet it’s urgent, Parker.” A boy snickered, making serval classmates laugh.
“Gross.” You wrinkled your noses and looked at the boys in disdain.
“Fine.” The teacher sighed. “The only reason I don’t write you two up for skipping so often is because you somehow have the best grades in the class. Go on. Just get the homework done.”
“We will.” You assured her before leaving the room with Peter. Peter noticed that you didn’t drop his hand even when you were alone in the hallway.
“Hey, you know that teachers name is Dr. Zhang and not Dr. Pepper, right?” You asked him.
“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. “Is it really? I’ve emailed her so many times and said “Dear Dr. Pepper”. We have to drop out.”
You laughed and held his hand the rest of the way out of the building.
That night, Peter laid in his bed with his phone held close to his face. He had been trying to figure out what to text you to let you know he had been thinking of you.
“I had fun fighting crime with you today” He wrote out. He read it over before scrunching his nose.
“No. Too cringe. She is not gonna fall in love with someone that says “fighting crime”. I’m not Paw Patrol.” He said like it was obvious. He deleted his text and thought of another one.
“I had a good time today, we make a good team” He wrote out instead. He read it a few times until he found issue with it.
“Oh, you had a good time stopping those break dancers that were obstructing that Sbarro? That’ll catch her attention.” Peter said sarcastically and deleted the text.
“have a goodnight :)” He typed out and then shook his head.
“No. Wayyyy too horny.” He sighed and deleted it again.
“night” He wrote out and read it a few times.
“This is good. I can work with this.” He nodded. He was about to workshop it when a text from you popped up.
“pick a color” It said. Peters heart skipped a beat at the vague message and replied with the first color that popped into his head.
“blue”
“thank u” You wrote back within seconds. Peters heart stopped pounded and the disappointment that the conversation was over settled in. After all these years of fighting crime together, you two never really managed to make it past the coworkers stage. He was desperate for more but never knew how to get there.
“no homo but I had fun fighting crime with you today” You suddenly texted again. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he touched his as if it were your face.
“ok paw patrol” He wrote back. Back in your room, you were laughing at his text and trying to think of a witty reply.
“ur mad bc you know I’m the chase 🐶” You texted him.
“if ur the Chase then who am I?”
“plssss ur such a marshall” You wrote back.
“but that’s the third most important dog :(“ Peter replied.
“well yes but he’s cute and wears red so the little paw patrol shoe fits” You answered. A blush painted Peters cheeks over you calling him cute but he didn’t want to read too much into it.
“Im wearing red right now😳” He texted back.
“oh I bet you are” You answered, making him laugh. He kept the conversation going for about an hour before duty called once again. Peter groaned and put his suit on before swinging to the scene of the crime. He met you there and stopped the crime before stopping on a nearby rooftop to rest.
“These burglars aren’t very considerate of our sleep schedules. Who robs a Jersey Mikes after midnight? Or, like, ever?” Peter huffed as he tugged his mask off.
“I know. They’re always at inconvenient times. I was in the middle of painting my nails.”
“Can I see?” He asked in a soft voice. You pulled your gloves off and held out your hand for him to see.
“Look. Blue. But I only got half way through before Mike’s was targeted.”
“It’s okay. They still look pretty.” Peter complimented you with a soft smile.
“Thanks. You picked a good color.” You replied.
“What do you mean?” He frowned.
“I told you to pick a color. This is why.” You explained and held out your hand again. His eyes lit up at this new information and he took your hand to see your nails closer.
“You let me chose your nail color?” He smiled fondly.
“Well I didn’t know what to chose so I thought I’d ask the audience.” You shrugged and felt shy all of the sudden.
“Oh. And I’m the target audience, huh?” Peter smirked and turned towards you.
“I never said target.” You teased him and shoved him shoulder.
“I must be hearing things, then.” He shrugged as you both smiled.
“Yeah. Must be.” You said in a soft voice as you stared into his eyes. Peter gulped before making a bold move and taking your hand again under the guise of looking at your nails.
“Look at you. You even got my favorite shade.” He noted.
“You like “Eating For Blue”?” You pretended to gasp.
“Is that really the name of the color?” He laughed.
“Uh huh. It was apart of Essie’s baby fever collection. I almost chose “All In Blue Time” but that’s one tends to get little air bubbles and they give me agida. And I used to have “A Dream Come Blue” but it rolled under the sink so it belongs to the dust bunnies now.” You shrugged as you checked out your nails.
“Wow. This is all new information to me. So, are all nail polish colors named after puns and wordplay?” He asked as he stared into your eyes. He didn’t really care, but he was finally getting somewhere with you and didn’t want it to end.
“In my experience, yes. Not always color related wordplay but always something that makes you go yeah, I guess this shade of beige is what the word “ladylike” would be as a color.”
“This is blowing my mind right now.” Peter chuckled.
“You mean blue-ing your mind.” You corrected and tapped the side of your head.
“I think you inhaled too many of those fumes. Because that was not funny.” Peter said through a laugh.
“What?” You pretended to be offended. “You’re literally laughing right now. I’m so funny.”
“You are.” Peter admitted when his laughter died down. You stared into eyes for a minute before smiling.
“Is that what you rumored saw in me?” You asked him.
“Probably.” He chuckled. “I also heard a rumor that I think you’re really pretty. Like, the prettiest girl I was ever rumored to have allegedly seen.”
“Now you’re the one who’s looney from the fumes because that’s a straight up lie. I know you’ve seen prettier girls because I was standing right next to you when Anne Hathaway left that diner.” You said without making eye contact with him. Things were moving a little too fast and you needed it hit the brakes for a second.
“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” Peter forced a laugh and awkwardly looked over at the cityscape when he realized you were politely telling him to pull back.
“But I appreciate it.” You said after a beat of silence.
“Of course. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking saying that.” He laughed nervously. “I was just getting caught up in the fake dating. We’ve been doing it for so long that it felt real.”
“We only started this morning.” You reminded him.
“Right. Well, it’s late. I’m gonna go home.” He said quickly and stood up. He had just blown that and needed to leave as quickly as possible.
“Okay. Goodnight. See you at school.” You called after him. Peter swung home with tears in his eyes and went straight to bed, missing your text about having fun fighting another crime.
The next day at school, Peter decided to start over and push last night from his mind. He played the part of your boyfriend to the best of his abilities and opened every door, pulled out every seat, and carried ever book for you all day long. Then he did it the next day, and the day after that. He kept his mouth shut about his feelings day in and day out no matter how painful it was getting. You and Peter had finally moved past the coworker stage and become real friends so he didn’t want to sabotage it all by telling you that he spent his days wishing for more.
“What are your plans tonight?” You asked him one day as you walked out of class together.
“My aunt is going out with her friends so I was probably gonna watch a movie on my couch. But on my laptop with my earbuds in. Likely in my boxers. Likely with an entire package of Twizzlers. Why?”
“Well I was gonna suggest that we hang out but you sound booked.”
“Really? You want to hang out?” Peter asked with much more enthusiasm than he intended.
“If you want. I’m not doing anything as exciting as boxers and Twizzlers.”
“I would love to. I’ll put on pants for you. I promise.”
“Sounds good.” You laughed. “Text me your address, okay?”
“Sure. Or you could walk with me now. Unless you’re tired of me and need a break before we hang out.” Peter suggested as you left campus together.
“It’s funny you say that. I was just telling my mom the other day that I never get tired of you.” You said casually.
“You..you don’t?” Peter’s face heated up as he followed you down the sidewalk.
“I don’t. I usually need a break from other people if we’ve been together awhile but it’s different with you. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my social battery if that makes sense.“
“It makes sense.” He smiled shyly as your hands bumped against each others. He was about to make a bold move and take your hand despite no one being around but you suddenly moved it to hit the crosswalk button.
Back at Peter’s apartment, he awkwardly gave you a tour and wished he had picked up his clothes before leaving the house that morning. You didn’t seem to mind the socks and boxers strewn across his room because you were too focused on all the little things he kept on his shelves. You picked up a picture frame of your freshman year high school class that had you and Peter seated right next to each other. Your friendship had only just begun so you often forgot how long you knew him for.
“So this is your room.” You smiled and put the picture back.
“Yup. This is where the magic happens.” Peter said and immediately cringed at himself.
“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. This is where I practice magic. Wanna see?” He asked and picked up a deck of cards. You laughed and went over to take one.
“Is your card the ace of spades?” He asked.
“Queen of hearts.” You snorted and turned the card around.
“You’re the queen of my heart.” He whispered.
“Did you say something?” You asked as you looked at all his Legos.
“I asked what you wanted to do tonight.” He lied.
“I don’t know. We have the place to ourselves. We could do something rated R.” You said with a coy smile.
“Like what?” Peter gulped.
“Watch an R rated movie, you perv. Your aunt isn’t here to stop you.”
“You remember me telling you that I’m not allowed to watch R rated movies in the living room anymore?” Peter blushed at you remembering something he had randomly told you long ago.
“Are you referring to the time you watched Tusk at full volume while she had her friends from work over for the first time? How could I forget?”
“In my defense, I didn’t know what the movie was about. And I didn’t think her friends were gonna come into the living room and see that guy getting turned into a walrus.”
“Yeah, the title and cover art gave no indication that the movie would end that way. But that’s not a bad idea actually. Let’s watch something scary.”
“Okay.” Peter agreed and followed you out into the living room. He turned off the lights and got some snacks while you picked a movie. He hated scary movies but he was not about to tell you that. Instead, he sat on the couch beside you as a respectful distance and handed you a bag of chips. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other. Peter had never really seen you scared before but you were practically in his lap just 40 minutes into the movie. You reached into the bag of chips at the same time as Peter and your fingers touched. You both froze and looked at each other as your faces heated up.
“Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.” Peter sighed, making you yank your hand out and laugh.
“You’re stupid.” You laughed and turned back to the movie just as a jump-scare happened. You screamed and jumped closer to Peter.
“This is so scary. Why did I pick this movie?” You asked as you drew your knees up and leaned into his side.
“Yeah, same.” He replied, not even listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. You were cuddled into his side with your head on his shoulder and knees in his lap with a blanket drawn up to your nose. He knew you were only cuddling him because you were scared but it didn’t even matter at that point. The movie went quiet for a minute and then made a loud sound, sending you to burry your face into Peter’s neck.
“Tell me when it’s safe to come out.” You whispered into his ear. Peter gulped and wrapped an arm around you to fully protect you from the movie.
“I will.” He said in a soft voice. You peaked your head out a few minutes later but stayed nestled into Peter’s side. You realized his arm was around you and smiled a little.
“Oh, this isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the main character got eaten alive.
“I don’t understand you.” Peter chuckled and looked down at you. You laughed as well as you looked into his eyes. He was about to say something when another sharp sound from the movie caused you to jump.
“Hold my hand.” You blurted and grabbed his hand. Peter happily accepted and clasped your hand before holding it under his chin. You stayed in that position for a long time and watched the movie. You were both so focused on the screen that you didn’t hear May opening the front door and coming in.
“Hey. I’m home.” She said, making you both scream.
“Oh, hi May.” Peter greeted while he realized it was just her.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m-“
“I know.” She smirked. “I’ll just be in my room. But, Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“No going in your room with the door closed, okay? I’m home. And we have thin walls. Just keep that in mind.” She said, making Peter turn bright red.
“Got it, May.” He mumbled. She winked at you and disappeared into her bedroom.
“You told your aunt we were dating?” You whispered to Peter in confusion.
“No.” Peter answered honestly. “I guess she just assumed we were.”
“Wow. She’s just like the kids at school.” You shook your head. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think we’re dating?”
“I mean…” Peter trailed off and looked down at your clasped hands. You hadn’t realized you were still cuddling and quickly jumped off of him. Peters heart sank and the longer he sat in the absence of your body heat, the more upset he felt.
“You just jumped off of me like I was sharp.” He said without looking at you.
“I didn’t want your aunt to see us cuddling and think-“
“And think what?” He snapped, cutting you off. You gutted your head back in surprise and let out a nervous laugh.
“Woah. What’s going on with you? She already knows about your secret life. We don’t have any reason to pretend we’re dating in front of her.”
Peter stared at you for a long time as the word “pretend” cut into him like a knife. Every time he thought you were going somewhere, he was reminded that it didn’t actually mean anything to you.
“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled and looked at the movie again. You kept your eyes on him and felt guilty. You had so much to say to him but you felt unable to speak.
“Peter-“
“I don’t think we should pretend to date anymore.” He blurted, cutting you off once again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise and you got a sick feeling in your tummy that you had just ruined something really important.
“What? Why not?”
“It’s stupid. No one even cares anymore.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to fake a breakup or anything but I don’t want to hold hands or play along anymore. I’m done.”
“What changed?” You asked in a soft voice. He was still looking at the movie while you were fully turned to face him.
“Nothing changed. That’s the problem.” He said and angrily got off the couch. You quickly caught his hand and he stopped. He looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you if he hadn’t told you what was wrong. He slowly turned around and looked at you.
“Five years ago, you showed up to the same robbery at an all night CVS that I was at and I realized we knew each other from AP Spanish class because I had asked you earlier that day how to conjugate “poner” and you said “pusiste” and I laughed because I thought you were joking but you weren’t and then that night you heard me tell the burglar that he better“pusiste” the money back into the register.“ Peter began.
“Okay. Wow. That was a really long sentence.” You laughed softly. “But I remember that. I laughed and told you that you better remember that for the test.”
“You did. That’s how I knew it was you.” He smiled at the memory. “I failed that test, by the way. I still can’t conjugate “poner.” And I still think it means “boner” even though I know it’s a verb. But anyway, that night, I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited to have met you. Even though we technically already knew each other, that night put us in each others radars. I could not believe that I had met my match. You’re into science like me and sarcastic like me and you understand this side of my life because you have the same side. But despite running into each other on patrol almost nightly and seeing each other around school, I barely got you to notice me. I don’t think you even knew my name until we ended up going the same college. You called me “Timmy” all throughout high school.”
“You seriously look like one. It’s uncanny. I don’t know what it is.”
“I thought things would change when I found out we were going to the same college. The campus is so small I figured there’s no way we wouldn’t become friends. But even then, we hardly ever talked and when we did it was always about work. I didn’t even know where you lived until last semester.”
“I remember that too. The first night we really bonded was when you fell off that roof because you were trying to show me how to do a backflip.”
“Yeah, I’ve never been able to do a backflip.” He admitted. “I only said I could because you said you always wanted to learn how to do one and I assumed given my abilities I’d be able to do one if I just followed my body. But I busted my ass and you were kind enough to sneak me through your window and patch me up with some Scooby Doo bandaids.”
“It was all I had.” You shrugged.
“And you gave it to me anyway. Because you’re kind and compassionate and I’m just…I’m crazy about you.” Peter finally admitted. “I was so excited when we started hanging out more this semester but it always ended up crushing me when I remembered that we just doing it to keep people from finding out the truth. I really, really love our friendship and if I’m ruining it all by saying all this then at least I can die with it off my chest.”
“Wait, now I’m confused. Are you dying?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It feels like I am every time you and I start to get close and then I remember this is all pretend for you.”
“So it’s not pretend for you?” You asked quietly. Peter stared into your heads for a minute and then shook his head.
“No. I was never pretending. I like you.” He told you. Your facial expression didn’t change as you stared back at him. Peter was really starting to panic until a smile tugged at your lips.
“Sit back down.” You told him.
“I’m sat.” He said and rushed it sit down. You nestled back into his side and laid your head down on his shoulder. Peter smiled and rested his head on top of yours, finally pleased with the way a conversation with you went. You both turned your attention back to the movie just in time for it to end.
“Hm.” You huffed. “That was supposed to be us symbolically finishing the movie as a real couple but it appears we’ve already arrived at the credits. Now what?”
“We could watch Tusk.” Peter suggested at the same time you said “We could make out.”
“I never actually saw Tusk but I always wanted to.” You gasped and hit his arm with excitement.
“Or we could do your thing.” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.
“Let me see if I can find it.” You said as you scrolled through the streaming services on his TV.
“Or we could do your thing.”
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webslingingslasher · 11 months
Note
Hi can I ask for a blurb where Peter accidently hits the reader while playing or something like he sometimes forgets about his super strength but fluff at the end please 🥺.
this got away from me but this was so fun and cute to write!
“I kinda want a black eye.” 
Your boyfriend slowly lowered the bag of peas on his left eye, his elbow dropped daringly, forcing you to look at the dark purple hue. 
“Oh, really?” 
You nod, “it looks gnarly but it’d be cool to have one.” 
“Baby, my heartbeat is currently taking place from my eyeball. You don’t want one.” 
Stretching across the space on the couch you raise Peter’s hand back up so he can ice the bruise some more, it does look painful. 
“I think if you loved me you’d give me one.” 
Peter took a second to see if that sentence would resonate with you but it hadn’t. 
“We should go to the women's shelter and spread that knowledge.” 
You scoff, “they weren't asking for it, Peter. I am.” 
Your boyfriend lowered his temporary ice pack and reached a hand out, his thumb rubbed under your eye, you almost thought he was thinking about it. Almost. 
“I’d never. I would, however, patch you up if you ever got one.” 
“Do you have a friend that could-” 
“No.” 
—------------------------------------
Oh FUCK did your eye HURT. 
It was on a level ten throb level, it felt like a ring stretching to your eyebrow and nose. You couldn’t even open it, all you could do was press your hand to it and try and stop the pressure from building, it didn’t work. 
You were able to blink it open just enough to be blinded by the living room light, you’ve never been so light sensitive. Squeezing it shut you winced, you tried to be understanding and calm; it was an accident after all. But the pain was spreading all over your face and you had a target right on the corner of your right eye, and it hurt. 
If your right eye could open it’d be shedding tears too, you had one continuance stream coming from your left eye. 
Your voice bubbles with pain, “petey, it hurts.” 
Your boyfriend couldn’t even breathe right now, he had hurt you. The one thing he swore he would never, could never do, and he did it. Panic flooded his body, panicked he’s caused serious damage, panicked you’d be scared of him, panicked you’d dump him, panicked your dad would come curbstomp him. 
“It hurts so bad,” he knows you’re calling out for him, he knows you need him, but all he could replay was the ‘whack!’ in his head. It wasn’t gentle in the slightest, you whipped away from him with a hiss, your hand immediately covering your eye. You had been okay at first but after a minute had passed it became nearly unbearable.
Peter knows how bad a black eye hurts, and he just gave you one. 
His short, barely there breaths start to stutter.  
And suddenly Peter couldn’t see because his vision was muddled by tears, he tried to blink them back but they ran. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried, but this brought him to his knees. He never wanted to punish himself more than in that second. He should’ve been quicker, he should’ve known you were behind him, he has those goddamn senses and they did nothing in that moment. 
“Peter!” A desperate cry for attention, you don’t know what to do, it hurts more than you could imagine. 
You look up at your boyfriend still standing in shock where he jumped away from you after hitting you directly in your eye. A wrestling battle, you had tried to take him down after he’d pinned you three times. In an effort of a sneak attack you crawled up the couch and tried to jump on his back where he sat on the floor. You dived and at the last moment his hand… well you don’t know what he was trying to do but it connected hard to your cheekbone. 
Your back hit the couch and you held your hand as you hissed and groaned in hurt, Peter scrambled up and backed up behind the coffee table, as if he was scared to be around you.  
He’s crying, your boyfriend’s crying. You’ve been punched and he’s crying. 
“I’m.. I’m sorr.. Fuck.” Peter snaps out of it, you need him. He crosses to the couch in two steps, his hand cupping your cheek. It makes everything in him deflate when you flinch as he touches you, he bites his bottom lip to stop a sob. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” 
His heart hurts as you cry, his thumb taps at your hand covering the damaged eye. The one he caused. 
“Let me see it, please?” Peter said it like a question, like he’d ever be lucky enough to have that privilege. 
You sob, “it hurts.” 
Peter blinks, more tears. He can’t believe he’s crying over this, he also can’t believe he hit his fucking girlfriend. 
“I know, I know it does, baby. Please let me see it.” 
You choke in air to stop your crying, it works. You slowly lift your hand off your eye, it’s not throbbing as much but the pressure has inflated tenfold and you couldn’t open it if you tried, it was swollen shut. You tried to gauge a reaction out of him, to see how bad it is. You forgot your boyfriend had the world’s best poker face. 
Peter wanted to curl up into a ball when he saw the damage. 
It was bruising, and swollen and you couldn’t open your eye and it was all his fault. 
His fault, his fault, his fault. 
If he was normal, if he was a normal boyfriend, this wouldn’t have happened. A normal teenager doesn’t have the strength to hold a ferry or stop a runaway bus, he does. And he used that strength on you. 
His powers, his abilities, his strength.
His fault, his fault, his fault. 
“You need ice.” Is all that could come out. A wince wraps over your face when you nod, you try to sit up and groan. “Everything hurts. How do you do this? Pain has to affect you differently, right?” Peter ignored you as he backed away, you don’t think he’s ever been so aware of his surroundings and actions. 
He shouldn’t be getting ice, he shouldn’t be putting it in a plastic bag and wrapping a rag around it, he shouldn’t be grabbing you tylenol extra strength, he shouldn’t be icing your black eye he caused. 
His fault, his fault, his fault. 
It scared you how quiet he was, the accidental punch was just that. You weren’t upset at him or scared he would do it again, you were scared how odd he was acting. He was strangely quiet and standoffish, when he came back to you with ice and pills you watched him think about holding the bag to your eye but stopped and put it in your hand. 
He shifted his weight and looked at the couch, he stepped back and sat on the coffee table. 
Peter cried and was quiet and standoffish and scared to touch you. He was terrified of himself, you may be physically hurt but he was emotionally broken, his one major thing washed down the drain. Accident or not he gave you a black eye, and it was tearing him up inside. 
You hummed when ice hit the hot skin, suddenly it didn’t hurt. 
“Am I right, super high pain tolerance?” 
It’s like you broke through a wall, Peter looked up at you like he just found out you were in the room. 
“I hit you.” 
You would’ve rolled your eyes if you could’ve. 
“That’s a little dramatic.” 
Peter shook his head, upset you weren’t upset. 
“I hit you hard, I hurt you. I…” His hand pulled at his curls so hard you grit your teeth. “I fucking hit you,” he whispered it, like his own mind couldn’t wrap it around. 
He doesn’t pull out the fuck word often. 
You thought about reaching out for his hand, but you think that’d made things worse. 
“I’m not scared of you, petey. It was an accident.” 
“I swore i’d never hurt you, that I would never hit you and I didn’t-” 
“Mean it.” You cut him off, “you didn’t mean it.” 
Peter rubbed at his jaw and blinked, you saw tears puddling and you wanted to do nothing more than hold him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, you lowered the bag of ice from your eye prepared to switch seats. He wouldn’t let you. 
“Ice.” Cold and hard, like you had no other option. You didn’t question him, you followed instructions. 
“Remember when you asked me to give you a black eye months ago?” 
It was a joke. Sure, you saw a tiktok with a girl who had one and you couldn’t deny it looked a little cool. Then seeing one on Peter the same night you couldn’t shake it. You were just playing around, it’s not like it was that serious. 
“I was joki-” 
“I told you I'd never, and I did. I hit my girlfriend and gave her a black eye.” 
Disgust. That’s what it was. He was disgusted with himself. 
You sat up straight, your lip curled up. 
A black eye? Sick.
“Wait, really?” 
Peter looked up at your excitement, it came from nowhere. 
“You gave me a black eye? I have a black eye right now? For real, for real?” 
This wasn’t a cute or funny thing, and he won’t let you make it be one. 
He hit you.
“This isn’t funny, I hit you and you’re happy you got a black eye?” 
“Pete, I forgive you. And not just cause you gave me a black eye, because it was an accident and you didn’t mean to and you’re obviously extremely remorseful.” 
“But I-” 
You reached out for his hand, “forgive yourself. You forgive yourself.” 
It wouldn’t be instant, until your eye healed, which would be at a much slower rate than him, he wouldn’t be able to fully forgive himself. 
“No more wrestling.” 
You scoff, “no more sneak attacks, how about that?” 
He shook his head, “I don’t want this happening again.” 
“If the situation was reversed would you want me to hold it against myself?” 
Peter scoffed, “absolutely not, but it wouldn’t hurt me like it does you.” 
“So you do have a super high pain tolerance.” 
He snapped and ripped his hand from yours, “yes, I do have a super high pain tolerance. I also have super strength and give my girlfriend black eyes.” 
You held your hand up, the other one slightly freezing from the cold but you were too scared to take it off. 
“First off, plural. Second, please stop. You’re making me feel bad, I’m really okay and I’m not mad and I forgive you a thousand million percent.” 
Peter inhaled sharply, he has to believe you. He’s more shook up than you are and he guesses he should agree with you, you were the hurt one. If you forgive him he could try and do the same.
“I think you need to give me a black eye to even it out.” 
You gasp like your offended at his words, your hand lays over your heart. 
“I’d never!” 
Your boyfriend ran his tongue over his teeth and gave you a dead stare, his hands pushed him off the coffee table. His words grumbled, “toxic.” 
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