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mirrorballparkers · 5 years

Text

his home [peter parker]

summary: no matter what happens, you were his home and his safe place. you had each other.

warnings: peter being cute as always + my bad writing (there’s some angst if u squint ig??)

words: 1.9k

authors note: hi enjoy love u xoxo

“ouch!”

peter winces in pain as he reaches up for the pancake mix in the upper pantry, trying not to make any noise for he didnt want to let you see him in pain, or wake you up. he thought you looked adorable in your star wars pjama bottoms and his blue midtown sweater; hair slightly messed up from moving too much overnight. he hums a familiar tune, bobbing his head slightly as he slowly gathers all the ingredients from various areas in the tiny kitchen he shared with his aunt, who was thankfully still asleep and would scold him for simply attempting to cook - he wasn’t quite good at it.

as peter mixes the chocolate chips into the pancake batter, he hears small footsteps approaching him. trying hard not to smile like a complete moron, which failed, he turns around to see you – dreary eyed and hair still fluffed up. his whole face brightens up, heart fluttering as he walks over to you - his whole world.

“hey, whatcha doing up so early?” he asks in a sweet tone. peter was always going to be smitten and shy with you, didn’t matter how long you’ve been together - he was always shy.

“kept hearing a bunch of pots clattering, figured you had broken something,” you tease, walking up to him and giving him a side hug. “what’s all this?” you inquired, tilting your head.

peter laughs softly as he shuts his eyes, engulfing you into a full hug. “i wanted to make you breakfast and bring it to you in bed,” he gestured towards the mess behind him, you giggle in response, “but i guess i was maybe too loud? and i might suck at cooking?” he spoke in a sheepish tone, pulling away from you as he leans his against the counter. “are you hungry?” before you could answer, your stomach made a slight grumbling noise - telling peter that it was quite evident that you were in need for some pancakes.

“uh...i guess i am.” you laugh, trying to avoid eye contact as your cheeks grow rosey.

peter tries his best not to giggle, knowing you were embarrassed. “you look so adorable omg when you blush, baby,” he spoke warmly.

“why don’t you go lay back down? i’ll bring you your pancakes when they’re done, cutie.”

“if you count a doggie bed in your living room with ten different blankets breakfast in bed, i’m definitely in.” you scoff mockingly, walking over to the pancake batter in the orange bowl , picking up the spoon as you slightly mix it and yawing to yourself.

peter playfull rolls his eyes, biting his lip as he looks over at you poking at the mix. adoring your puzzled face as you probably were thinking that he had done everything completely wrong. “hey! i tried to get her to let us sleep in my bed, but you know her, she’s super protective.” he pouts, his cheeks turning a soft rose color that made his infinitesimal amount of freckles appear more.

he looked down at his tattered up hands, that had gotten messed up due to fighting this dude last night while you were asleep. he tried his best to hide the excruciating pain that was forming, not wanting you to know he wasn’t a hundred percent fine. he had told you many times the night before that it would clear up by the morning, only for the pain to increase.

“i gotta hand it to you, though, pete - you didn’t completely mess up this batter.” you chuckle, “all that’s missing is chocolate. d’ya have any?”

“i do,” peter nods, walking over to you and gently putting his hand over your dainty one that was holding the whisk. “but i wanted to be the one baking, babe. i got this!” he leans forward, kissing your cheek - smiling as the faint blush appears on your cheeks. you giggle softly as you rub his hand with your thumb, only for him to quietly wince at the pain.

your smile suddenly fades, eyes falling on his tattered up hand, “pete,” he instantly notices your mood drop, quickly pulling his hand away from you. “it’s still hurting you?” you asked cautiously.

“n-no! no, babe, it’s nothing. i’m fine.” peter lies, a nervous laugh escapes his lips as he walks to the other side of the kitchen, avoiding being close to you in fear of worrying you.

“peter, don’t. i know you’re lying.” you say, one hand on your hip and a stern yet worrisome look on your face. as much as you were proud of your boyfriend for what he did, it still terrified you more than anything. all you wanted was for him to be safe.

“how’d you know?” he asked.

“for one, you were stuttering. you always stutter when you lie. plus, you walked away from me. gives it away every time.” peter sighs, feeling guilty that he made you feel like that. sometimes he felt maybe it would be easier on you if you weren’t dating some guy who was also a superhero.

“yikes, i’m that bad of a liar, huh?” peter asks, making his way back towards you and fiddling with his thumbs.

“just a bit, yeah.” you both giggle as you reach over to hold his injured hand. placing your hand in his, very gently so you wouldn’t hurt him, he looks up at you with those pretty brown eyes and smiles.

“sorry i made you worry.” he says in a soft tone; the type that made you forget why you were upset, where you just wanted to hold him and keep him safe forever. you had only known for about two months now, peter accidentally webbed your hands together and yes it was the cutest time, and it’s been quite difficult getting used to seeing a new bruise or cut somewhere surfacing your sweet boy.

it was absolutely impossible to be upset with peter for longer than two seconds. everything, absolutely everything, about his sweet face made your chest fill up with nothing but butterflies and sweet things. the more his sweet brown eyes filled with sadness or worry, the more you wanted to hold him and protect him.

“it’s okay. but you have to do one thing for me,”

“hmm?”

you shoot him a goofy grin, “let me finish making the pancakes.”

peter dramatically leans his head back, groaning loudly, “noooo i wanted to do this for you!”

he was a boy who likes simple things: simple things for his simple person — and you were his person.

“mmmm, no. you’re hurt, you could easily burn yourself pete. not gonna risk it.” you tell him, earring another dramatic groan from the pretty boy in front of you.

you being your finger up to his cute lips, shushing him quietly, “relax, pretty boy, it’ll be fine i swear. lucky for you i’m a pretty good cook.” you teased before walking away from him to complete what he had first started.

peter held his hands up in defense, a light and adorable chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned back on the counter and watched you proceed to make the pancakes. he tried to focus on anything else in the room, but his eyes always landed on you.

it was distracting to peter, your beauty. every single part of you. not just your features, but who you were as a person. you were lambent with kindness and goodness, a field of flowers; everything about you was good. peter couldn’t quite contain himself, he needed to be close to you. he felt warm and safe when he was close; he didn’t feel like he was in danger, as he usually did when he was spider-man. with you, peter was safe and sound.

he walks over to you quietly, eyeing how you were placing the pancake mix onto the hot pan, careful not to mess anything up in the process, you wanted it to be perfect just for your boy. he places his head on your shoulder, feeling airy and warm the minute he felt your soft touch.

so much better, he thought.

“sorry i worry you so much,” he said, his warm cheeks pressed against your skin, never wanting to leave your side, in fear of you getting hurt or forgetting about him. that was peters fear;

instead of telling him to go sit down, you adjust yourself to where it were fully facing him, cupping his cheek gently and rubbing it every so softly with your thumb. gosh, it was like you were face to face with an angel.

peter was absolutely, positively emerald. he made you feel so soft and peaceful. his doleful eyes with little specks of green, freckled cheeks, in which someday in the spring you wanted to lay him down on your lap so you could count them. there were infinitesimal amounts of them, like stars in the galaxy. it was almost fairytale-like; then again, being with peter was a fairytale.

“you’re here with me, yeah?”

he nods, glossy eyes, but he wasn’t going to cry; not when he felt safe with you.

“i always am.”

“then why should i worry?” you asked.

you had a pretty good point, peter thought. he was there, with you, his home. nothing bad was going to happen. the two of you had each other and that’s what mattered.

“i love you so much.” peter finally smiled, that smile that was infectious, cute, and sweet. nobody smiled like peter, nobody.

“i love you more, pete. now go sit down and relax, i made some pretty darn good pancakes.” you poke his shoulder, earning a quote darling laugh from peter as you hand him his plate of chocolate chip pancakes.

it was moments like these - the intimate, tiny, sweet moments - that reminded peter of why his life was so darn sweet. he had you; he always, always had you, his sweet person.

peter’s home.

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