#peter parker x male!reader

[thealtoduck]

Greedy

Peter Parker x Male Black Cat!Reader

Warnings: Smut, semi-angsty, top!Reader, bottom!Peter, unprotected sex, rough sex, anal sex, fingering, doggy style, spanking, you cry after sex, calling Peter a whore, slut, etc…

Male Black Cat!Reader: Masterlist

Summary: After a failed robbery you’re pissed of so Peter helps you release some frustration…

——

You shot your grappling hook and swung yourself to another building closely followed by Spider-Man. He’d been able to keep up with you a lot better than usual, having learned to avoid your regular tricks and traps.

”You’ve gotten better at this!” you called out to the superhero chasing you. You jumped the gap to another building. Suddenly a web caught your arm pulling it back making you lose balance and fall hitting the rooftop floor.

You felt a pain in your leg as you quickly tried standing back up. Spider-Man swung right over your head and landed in front of you. ”Or maybe you’ve just gotten slow” he teased, the two of you then engaged in combat.

You slashing at him with your claws and him doing his best to block and dodge your attacks. Once he went on the offensive you ducked his quick strong jabs. Spider-Man noticed the leg you fell on was shaky as you avoided his punches.

He used this to his advantage and did a sweep with his leg knocking you to the ground, it was usually by now you found some gadget or distraction to give yourself a chance to escape. Spider-Man quickly ran up to you and ripped your backpack from your back and quickly webbed one of your arms down keeping you in place.

”You can’t take that” you said losing the regular playfullness in your voice. ”I just did” Spider-Man said victoriously. He went for the zipper on the bag while muttering ”What did you even steal?”. You watched with a glare as Spider-Man brought out a set of files from your bag.

”Put that back” you demanded but he ignored you. He opened one of the files and stated ”It’s the layout of a prison” he then turned his gaze to you and asked ”Are you planning to break someone out?”. He continued looking through some other files as you desperately looked for a way to free yourself.

You heard sirens in the distance approaching and even though you couldn’t see his mouth you knew Spider-Man was smirking. ”Well looks like i finally caught you Cat, tell me how does it feel?”.

Then you found something. ”Oh Spider… when will you learn, you can’t cage the Black Cat” you said and threw one of your newer gadgets towards him, which he easily dodged out of the way for it as it hit the water tower behind him. ”You missed” Spider-Man said proudly, but as he noticed your facial expression he realised… you hadn’t missed.

Next thing he knew an explosion came and he was completely drenched in water and the water tower started collapsing on to him. The files you had collected were washed away spreading wet sheets of paper out all over the rooftop.

Spider-Man managed to catch the falling water tower as it landed on top of him. He then threw it to the side and turned to where you had been webbed finding only an empty spot with some left over webbing.

”Shit” he swore to himself. He tried to pick up some wet paper files but they fell apart almost instantly as he did. At least he had managed to foil your break out plans he thought to himself.

——

You grappled your way to your secret lair, an old storage unit your mom had used during her time as the Black Cat. You opened your door and walked inside seeing collections of jewelry and paintings, maps with marked out locations and all your tech stuff. You slammed the door behind you and ripped off your mask throwing it aside.

You walked up to your working bench and slammed your fists on the table, your one chance you could’ve had to free your mom from prison and that stupid arachnid boy had ruined everything.

You grabbed something random from the working bench and threw it across the room in a rage, making it smash against the wall…

——

You layed with crossed arms on your bed leaning against the headborard as Peter played video games on your flatscreen tv. Your dad was out of town for business so you and Peter decided to have a sleepover while he was gone.

You thought about canceling with Peter after last nights failed theft but you hoped his company might help cheer you up… so far it wasn’t working, you had a noticable scowl on your face and a clear lack of energy in your voice.

Peter had noticed but not pointed it out as he wasn’t completely sure you wanted to talk about it. Once he finished the level he put the controller aside and layed down next to you. He gently touched your arm and asked ”Y/n, are you okay?”

You turned to him with a distracted look and said simple ”Yeah” but then added a ”Just in a bad mood”. ”Do you want me to leave or something? I can give you space?” Peter asked sweetly, sitting up ready to leave if you wanted some alone time.

”No, stay, i like your company” you said but with more softness in your voice this time as you put your hand on top of his, giving it a light squeeze. ”Alright… is there anything i can do for you?” Peter asked generously. You stayed silent for a moment…

”Can i fuck you?…” you said a mix of coldness and longing in your voice. Peter was caught of guard making him silent, making you quickly add ”You really don’t have to if you don’t want to, i just- i just want some release… that’s all”.

Peter thought about it for a moment and asked curiously ”What did you have in mind?”. You stood up and said ”Come on” and led him out of your room, and down the hallway. You then opened the door to another room where Peter followed you inside.

It was a bigger room than yours, the first thing Peter noticed were the two glass doors along the left wall that opened to a balcony looking out over the other suburban houses. He looked around the room, along the walls were some really nice paintings, like straight out of a museum.

There were also some pictures of you as a child spread around the room, as well as a big family portrait hanging over the headboard of a large bed, a bed for two. This was you parents room.

You stood in front of the double bed and then explained in a darkened tone ”I want to take you like whore on my parents bed”. The request left Peter on mute, this was something new to him… having sex on your parents bed felt so inappropriate and lewd… and he was suprisingly really turned on by it.

”Look, like i said ”you really don’t have to if-” you said again but Peter interrupted saying ”Yeah, let’s do it”. You nodded and said ”Okay, get ready then, i’ll get the lube”. You said leaving and walking back to your room.

Peter slowly started udressing pulling of his shirt and pants, leaving him in socks and underwear. Peter moved on to the bed and tried to position himself in a sexy way, like he’d seen you do before.

When you came back inside you threw the bottle of lube on to the bed and tugged your own shirt off. You stood yourself on the edge of the bed and pulled Peter closer by his legs. Peter stood up on his knees and the two of you started hungrily making out.

You grabbed at Peter bulge feeling him getting hard in your hand, you then slipped in your hand inside his underwear and rubbed your hand along his cock with a firm grip of him. Peter let out a soft moan in your face as you did.

You then gently pushed Peter on to his back on the big bed and dragged his underwear down his legs and threw them on the floor. Peter was now naked in front of you apart from his white socks which you decided to leave on because you thought it made him look cute.

You unbuckled your belt and pulled you pants down and climbed onto the bed in between his legs. You opened the bottle of lube and poured some in your hand and spreading it on your fingers. You then lifted Peter’s spread legs revealing his tight hole that hadn’t been used in a while.

You mercilessly started shoving your first finger in to him making his mouth gape open. ”Fuck” Peter swore as you watched in satisfaction. You impatiently added another finger into him and then annother, pumping them in and out him loosening up his ass. Peter’s dick was now rockhard as you finger fucked him.

You then suddenly pulled out your fingers from him, wanting to get your hard manhood inside him. You flipped Peter on to his stomach giving you a full view of his bubble butt, you started teasing your length against his hole.

You squeezed Peter’s left cheek and gave it a light spank. ”You want my cock?” you asked as you kept teasing his awaiting heat. ”Yeah, i want it, please” Peter said almost begging. You spread his ass and pushed your hung cock in to his tight hole, making Peter whine beneath you.

You groaned feeling Peter’s tight walls around your manhood. ”Fuck Y/n, you’re so big” Peter moaned as you sheated yourself inside him. ”Bet you like that” you said grabbing his hips. Without giving Peter much time to adjust you started rolling your hips, your cock moving in and out of him.

”Taking it like a real slut” you said degradingly as Peter moaned in to the matress. You sped up your thrusts making the sound of skin slapping together sound out through the room, his ass kneading your cock like perfection. You moved your hands to Peter’s back pressing him onto the bed.

”Such a whore for my cock aren’t you?” you asked him as you roughly took his ass. But Peter was to blissed out to answer, you raised a hand and gave Peter’s right ass cheek a hard slap that echoed through the room. ”Aren’t you?” you repeated demandingly.

”Yes, i’m your whore” Peter let out through the ectasy he felt. You fucked yourself in to his heat agressively, using the rage you felt to fuck him like a bitch. His hole clenching around you making you groan loudly.

You bodies started getting sweaty from you intense fucking. Peter moaned loudly as you plowed in to him. ”You love when men fuck you full of their cum?” you asked in a rough tone as your big cock pushed against Peter’s prostate.

”Yes, i love being filled with cum!!!” Peter moaned loudly. If anyone was standing outside the bedroom door they would’ve definetely heard every single word. You laid down on to of Peter and took his hands that were gripping the bedsheets and held Peter down as you thrust wildly in to him.

Peter started getting close from the feeling of your cock fucking deeply in to his now loose open hole. ”I’m gonna cum” Peter whined through his moans. ”Cum then you little whore” you said grabbing Peter’s messy sweaty hair in your hand.

Peter’s length pressed down to the matress then started spilling his seed in to a puddle on the sheets. You thrusts started growing eratic and hungry as you chased your own release. ”Gonna fuck my whore full of cum” you growled to the tired out Peter beneath you.

”Yes fill me with your cum!” Peter gasped which was all you needed to hear as you delivered one last powerful thrust in to him and let your seed erupt deep inside Peter’s heat, filling him all the way up. His hole started leaking as soon as you pulled out of him.

You laid down beside Peter in exhaustion feeling cleansed of your anger. You looked to the side where spotted a picture on the nightside table, it was a picture of you as a kid and your mom before she got locked up. It made a new feeling bubble up inside you.

Sadness…

A tear started trickling down your cheek your cheek as you let out a small whimper. Peter heard and immediately turned to you. He noticed tears had started uncontrolably rolling down your cheeks.

”Y/n, are you okay? Did i do something wrong?” Peter quickly questioned. You shook your head and said ”No, i’m just emotional”. Peter looked conserned at you. ”Can you hold me?” you asked him through sniffs. ”Of course” Peter said and let you nuzzle your tear stained face in to his chest.

He didn’t really understand what was happening or what brought this on but he wrapped his arms around your body letting you cry. You calmed down after a while but you the two of you stayed cuddled together.

Soon enough the two of you fell asleep in the big bed holding each other closely all through the night.

#peter parker x male reader smut #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x male black cat reader #spider man x male reader #spiderman x male reader #spider-man x male reader #avengers x male reader #avengers x male!reader #mcu x male reader #x male reader smut #male reader #x male reader #x male!reader #male black cat reader #black cat!male reader #male black cat!reader

[burning-omen]

Kinktober Day 9: Detective x Criminal + Spider-Noir

Spider-Noir x male reader

Kinktober 2023 List | Day 1 | Day 10

Summary: He’s playing mind games with you, you know he is.

Warning: reader is the Black Cat of the universe, getting tied up, lowkey cringe villian reader but it’s like the 1940’s so they get a pass cuz it’s a little camp, breaking and entering, stalking, reader being naked, no smut (during kinktober? shocking I know)

You didn't like being tied up. Well, maybe. Just not in this context. You prided yourself on having never been caught, but as you are now, your arms bound to your sides, hanging upside down from a lamp post, you could feel that pride going down the drain. Glancing over you could see a few of the guys that were helping you rob some high-end jewelry store.

You usually worked alone, but the owner of the store was friendly with the police and if anyone was going down for this one, it'd be them. That's what you had planned at least, before being captured by a familiar spider themed vigilante.

You could see his figure, shrouded in black, crouching down next to them, they were all tied together, back to back to back on the floor. You almost began to wonder why you were getting special treatment, then you remembered your claws and the chase that lead to you being in this position in the first place. He considered you a threat. Which made sense, considering what you'd done to the front of his little suit. You had just barely missed him, only able to swipe at the vest he wore beneath his coat before the chase began. Still, it cut through as though you were swiping at air, you figured that he would rather not find out what they felt like cutting through flesh.

It was a while before he came to you, crouching down so that he could meet your eyes. Despite being upside down and having his face covered by a mask.

“Cat,” he said sternly.

“Mr. Spider-Man.” you returned with a grin, “you caught me.”

“So I did, ‘ that mean you're gonna comply?”

“Not a chance.”

A careful, slow breath left the man. Coming in closer, he spoke again.

“Those guys already gave you up, Cat, you really think you can get out of this one?”

You thought for a moment, or at least pretended to before another large grin broke out on your face.

“I can get out of anything. So what if these low lives try to pin this whole thing on me, I've got a few things they don't that absolve me of any blame,” you said confidently.

He let out a low laugh, just for a second before asking,

“And what's that?”

“Well I've got a secret identity, I've got an alibi-” you paused for a moment, flexing your clawed fingers before continuing, “and, unlike those guys, I got away.”

Without sparring a moment you shredded the binds, effectively freeing yourself, twisting onto your back to keep yourself from banging your head on the concrete below. You were on the ground for less than a second before you were on your feet again and breaking into a sprint, you didn't check to see if he followed you, scaling up the side of a brick building and running along its roof before jumping to the next one, then the next, then the next until you felt tired, sliding to a stop.

~~~~~~

As you landed on the window sill of your apartment, you decided definitively that you needed a long, long bath, despite the fact that you got away, you were still trapped by the Spider-Man. That was a step closer to prison than you'd ever like to be.

Sliding the window open you were greeted by your pitch black apartment, just how you left it. Despite the dark, you navigated flawlessly, making your way to the living room, walking towards your front door, and collecting the newspaper and mail off the floor, the mail slot in your door shining a small beam of light from the hallway.

Finally flicking on the light as you flipped through your mail, heading towards the kitchen. Leaning up against the counter as you muttered to yourself.

“Bills, bills, trash, rent-” you stopped on an invitation to an art exhibit, specifically a jewelry art exhibit, ‘displaying pieces new and old’, how wonderful. What was even better was the price of the tickets, nearly 300 each, you couldn't afford to go, not legally, but you’re sure that plenty of wealthy people with deep pockets and easily accessible wallets would be there, along with the jewelry itself. With a small smile, you set the invitation down on the counter, you could look at it again later.

Before you could even register what was written on the next envelope, a voice spoke from behind you- in a moment you would never admit to, you jumped, a small yelp emitting from you, your heart pounding heavily.

Turning quickly, you were face to face with Spider-man, leaning on the other side of the counter, the invitation you just set down in his hands.

“‘We humbly invite you, Shara Jamison, to the Exhibition of Art Through Jewelry on-’”

You quickly snatched the invitation from his hand, slamming it on the counter.

“Breaking into people's houses is illegal.” you said, glaring at the man.

“You left your window open”

Setting your mail down, you could feel the familiar feeling of irritation growing.

“Caught twice in one night, Cat, I think you're losing your touch.”

Walking past him and back into the living room, you tried to think of a plan, but as Spider-Man followed you- so close behind, your mind seemingly stopped working.

“I'm not losing anything, you're just stalking me, how would you feel if I followed you home, hmm, Mr. Spider-Man?”

He didn’t respond, turning, you saw him- once again, going through your mail.

“Will you stop that?” You snatched the stack from him and threw it on the couch.

Breathing out a frustrated sigh, you said,

“What do you want?”

“Y/n L/n.”

You paused, taking in a breath you said, “what?”

“That’s your name right? It's on all your- well, most of your mail.”

Resisting the deep urge to roll your eyes into oblivion you said,

“So what if it is?”

“So..” he started, “you've got no secret identity, no alibi, and no, you didn't get away.”

You tried not to react, in over 5 years of masked theft you've never been caught, not once, you've never even been a suspect, but here you were, quite literally out a places to hide, he knew where you lived, you didn't have friends so you had no where to lay low, he knew who you were, and he's even got you cornered in your own home.

“Good job, detective, you gonna take me to jail?” despite the playful tone you'd taken up, you were nervous, the police didn't like Spider-Man, but you’re sure they'd appreciate him bringing in a criminal like you.

“No.”

You didn't mean to sigh. You really wanted to remain unfazed, but god, you couldn't. You felt like a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders by the same person who had put it there.

“Why not?”

He chuckled, “I like this, I like you, gives me something to do.”

You laughed, “This is why the cops don't like you.”

After a short pause he said, “Stay safe out there, Cat.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He left after that, through the same window he’d come through. Leaning against the window sill you watch him swing away. Your heart pounding in your ears as he disalearedcinyo the night.

You didn't sleep much that night, his words replaying in your mind over and over again.

‘I like this, I like you..’

You rolled over, pulling the cover up over your shoulders. You weren’t some toy made for his entertainment, you were a thief and a really fucking good one. His words shouldn’t be effecting you the way they were, you were enemies. You fought, hell you nearly slashed his chest open tonight. But he ‘likes you’, sure…

This was some elaborate ploy to get you to turn yourself in, you knew it was.

He was trying to play mind games with you, but you were better at them than he was.

~~~~~~

It’s been two weeks since you’ve been out, a new personal record on your part. Not stealing for two whole weeks! You patted yourself on the back, even through you skin itches and your fingers twitched every time you saw something valuable. But you couldn’t, you were playing the long game with the Spider-Man, you weren’t going to break character now.

You took the bus home from work, getting dropped off a few blocks from your apartment, it started pouring rain about halfway through your walk, soaking your clothes. You hated the rain. You knew it was going to rain, you could smell it in the air, and you could have stolen an umbrella from the rack in the break room, but that’s not what a good upstanding citizen does, so you suffered through the rain, dragging yourself to your apartment, up several flights hold stairs before finally reaching your apartment.

The pitch black scene was comforting, dropping your suitcase on the floor, hearing it thumb loudly. Peeling back layer of soaked clothes and dropping them into a pile.

You felt a million times lighter.

Heading to you bedroom, only flicking the light on when you were inside to find a change of clothes. Bundling them in your arms then flicking the light back off. Heading back to the living room you remembered the pile of wet clothes on the floor, flipping the light switch on, the living room illuminated quickly, everything was exactly as you left it. Well, except for the imposing black figure sitting on your couch. Spider-man. He was deadly silent, seemingly frozen. You stared at him, confused, before remembering the state you were in. Naked.

You weren’t shy, not even a little bit, but you definitely weren’t expecting to be nude in front of people, especially Spider-Man, who was seemingly shocked into silence.

“Breaking and entering is a crime, Spider-Man.”

Nothing.

“Really? You break into my house and you have nothing to say to me?”

Nothing again.

You sighed, walking over to the man, dropping your clothes next to him on the couch before plopping down yourself.

“Earth to Spider-Man? Can you hear me?”

He turned to face you.

“Y/n…” he muttered.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat, “you're, um.. I just. I was-”

You nodded along to his blabbering, a teasing smile on your face. It took him a moment to figure his words out, but he got it eventually.

“I was...checking on you. You've been missing for a while now, I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt.”

“Well,” you gestured to your naked body, “as you can see, there's not a scratch nor bruise on me.”

He shifted in his seat, staring for a long moment before looking away.

You grinned, “what's wrong, detective, never seen a man naked before?”

He took a deep breath, then said, “I'm sorry, you should get dressed.”

You hummed, “No, it's fine, I'm comfortable.”

“Cat..” he practically whined.

“Fine, fine, I'll go. You stay here, don't move.”

You were going to use the clothes you gathered after taking a shower, but Spider-Man’s delicate sensibilities called for your immediate coverage.

So you went to your room, peeking out at him through the door, only to see him sitting there, stiff as a board, dressed quickly, and sat back down on the couch next to him as though you hadn't been naked minutes before.

“You going straight, Cat?”

You hummed, “Why would you think that?”

“You got a 9-5, you haven't been out at night, and your gang says you haven't returned their calls.”

“So what, you're stalking me now?”

He didn't respond.

It was kinda cute, he's been following you around, harassing your gang, and he broke into your house again, but seeing you naked is too personal. Poor thing’s got his morals in a twist.Maybe these weren't mind games, or some elaborate scheme, maybe he really did just like you, he wouldn't be the first to obsess over you and he probably wouldn't be the last.

Sighing, you said, “You don't have to worry, I'm quitting tomorrow.”

He turned to you quickly, “Really?”

“Yes, really, besides, I know a better way of making money.”

He paused for a moment, “You're coming back?”

“I was just taking a little break, you know I can't go straight forever. As soon as this rain stops I'm back to my old ways.”

He laughed, then relaxed back against the couch.

“You really missed me that much?”

“Like you wouldn't believe.”

You laughed, scooting a bit closer to the man.

“I missed you too, turns out regular people don't get to copulate with Spider-Man on a nightly basis.”

“That does not mean what you think it does..”

“What?” you grinned, “copulate? Would you rather me say fornicate? Conjugate? Philander? Closest?-”

“Do you just have a dictionary of words that mean sex?”

You shrugged, “Maybe.”

“You are…awful.” despite the insult, you could hear the smile on his voice.

“You still like me though.”

He shifted, “I never said that.”

“Sure you did, right after you told me that you would never let those disgusting cops sully my perfect body with their cop hands.”

“I don't recall that one.”

“I do.” you smirked

It was a little odd, talking with Spider-Man in your own home, usually all of your teasings happened out on the streets. Not tonight though, as the rain poured down, you and the detective enjoyed a nice night in.

#x male reader #male reader #male!reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #male s/o #x male!reader #spider noir x male reader #spider noir x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader

[clarks-letterman]

where is he at in these fics fr

like mans is boyfriend coded and has a husband (he doesn’t sorry😭) and there’s not a single fic for him as of the games release

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x male!reader #insomniac peter parker #spider man x reader #spider man 2 ps5

[iliumheightnights]

Reader spoiling Peter and Peter just being absolutely adorable?

"Add it to the cart!"

Peter dropped his hand from the lego set. "No! I mean, M/n I love you but no. It's so expensive." The lego set was something Peter REALLY wanted bu he wouldn't let his boyfriend buy it for him. It was too expensive.

"Oh none of that. I saw how excited you got. Add it to the cart."

"M/n-"

Before Peter could finish anything M/n grabbed the set and put it into the cart. "Oops. Okay let's go check out." Peter wanted to say something but M/n was already pushing the cart away. So instead peter just let out a sigh.

He really did want that lego set.

So it was bought. Peter felt bad but M/n told him not to. "I want you to be happy honey. This was something you liked. It's a gift! I want you to enjoy it."

Peter gave up. "Fine...but you have to help me build it." M/n smiled. "Deal." The two of them spent the rest of the night building the set. M/n couldn't get rid of the smile on his face as he saw just how happy Peter was. When Peter made little voices for the mini figures it just made it better.

#mcu #marvel #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #x male reader #x male!reader #male reader #male!reader

[rowniebow]

Tasm!pete loosing m!reader after Gwen but reader comes back cause marvel shenanigans 😍 and sees Peter beyond broken and tries to comfort him ?

the last time | tasm!peter parker x male!reader

pairings: tasm!peter parker x male!reader

cw: death, wa-oh, is it considered angst? a lil bit o cursin, no way home mentions

word count: 3.3k+

an: no way home had such nice closure for tasm!peter, so happy bout it. thank you so much for requesting! hopefully ill be getting through the other few i have before winter break is over n i gotta go back to work + college. stay safe, happy new year if i don't have anything else till then!

masterlist

⭒

"damn it," you huffed, holding peter's heavy, limp body close. you leaned against the turned over car, taking a moment to find your thoughts.

you squeezed your boyfriend in your arms, hoping he could feel your silent prayers that he would wake up and save the day like he always does.

but as the stomping got closer and his breathing stayed shallow and struggled, you came to the conclusion that he was not going to be able to help you this time.

you, as quietly as you could, grunted while moving peter on to your back. your sore muscles ached. your ripped skin pulled. your bleeding wounds burned.

peter's limp body draped over your back easily. your legs took you to behind another set of turned over cars. to your relief, the villain didn't see you two moving at all. maybe he was too consumed with trying to take down the manhatten bridge that you were desperate to get off of.

you set your sights on your next set of rubble that you'd go for coverage to. your legs seemed to drain of adrenaline with every step you took. your feet felt as if bricks were piling on them, and the dragging began.

within so few feet of the large rubble pile, filled with car parts and pieces of the bridge the large villain was tearing from the bridge, your foot caught on something, sending your heavy bodies toppling over. your elbows and knees seemed to hit every booming metal possible, and echoes of clatter rang out over the bridge.

the monster drew it's attention to your fleeting body and began making it's way towards you.

you unknowingly prayed it didn't see you as you pulled peter into your arms and crouched into the rubble. your breathing was heavy, and you were sure this villain could hear that whether he saw you or not.

your prayers failed to be answered, yet again.

the monster took his ginormous hand and swiped the large rubble pile away as if it were crumbs on a table.

you looked up at him - he was some sort of animal mutation. an ape the size of a whale with claws similar to a cat and skin similar to a lizard. he had as many eyes as a spider (which made your skin crawl) and the teeth of a shark.

you don't know what peter had gotten himself into with this guy, all you knew is how determined this monstrosity was to reveal spider-man's identity.

the creature's odd hand's came down quickly, smacking you two a great distance away. you kept a tight hold on peter, your hands moving to protect his head and neck while you two were in the air.

so very lucky for you, though, that you got to land on your back onto the hard gravel and peter's body came flopping on top of you, his head on your chest.

you gasped for breath, the air in your lungs seeming to have lost it's way. you back burned from the many small glass shards finding their own way into your skin.

your arms went limp from exhaustion, only your hands being able to grip on to peter's arms to keep you in touch with reality.

you felt the large creature's booming steps make their way towards you, and you did your best to try and sit up with peter. but of course, your exhaustion proved to be stronger than you, and his steps quicker.

you only mustered a pleading look, but of course the immoral being paid no mind to you, only snatching peter's limp body up.

a toothy grin (if you could even call it that) pulled at the creatures face. the pleasure it got as it tried to slip it's claw under peter's mask practically made the monster shake.

you took the rare leisurely speed of the creature as an opportunity, grabbing a nearby pipe, and using the last bit of your strength to throw it at the creature.

the pipe landed painfully in one of the many eye's of the creatures. the creature winced as if it were a mere eyelash that got in it's eye. all of the eyes looked directly at you. the glare it gave you nearly made you throw up, but you choked it back.

the creature tossed peter's body, the impact causing him to slowly gain consciousness again.

he slowly blinked his eyes open, the sheer of the mask over his eyes brought him back to the reality of the situation.

his head throbbed, the pain filtered into his eyes. the daylight was too much for him. he felt every part of him to an intense degree. each and every nerve was more than aware of the state of his body.

but through the sheer of his mask and through the pain of his body, he heard your arguments in the distance with the creature that, he only now is coming to remember, is supposed to be dead by now.

you were wrapped in the creature's odd, almost snake-like fingers. you desperately, weakly struggled as he tightened his grip.

you cough and groaned feeling your ribs break one by one under his pressure.

peter couldn't make out exactly what you two were saying to each other. the ringing in his ears too loud to hear anything, really.

but he saw mouths moving, and by the frown on the creatures face, he could only assume your sassy mouth got the best of you.

but the creature wouldn't have any of it. he raised his free hand, pointer finger out.

peter got to his knees, the world seemed to move in slow motion as he realized what was happening.

he yelled out a protest, pushing himself to his feet, the adrenaline suddenly fueling him like a truck.

but his yell meant nothing.

the claw went right through your torso.

the creature smiled, withdrew his hand and merely tossed you aside.

rage filled peter's bones. he was blind. he felt as if he passed out, only coming back to reality when he was standing over the creatures now deceased body.

peter stumbled to you desperately, the adrenaline carrying him farther than he should be able to go.

"peter-," you coughed out, struggling to sit up in an attempt to greet him.

"no, no, no," peter kneeled beside you, a hand under your back and the other hovering over your body, unsure of what to do. "save your breath, baby, we're gonna get you to a hospital, okay?"

peter tried to slip a hand under your legs to pick you up. your quiet groans and breathy 'ow's' stopped him, however, and he set you back down on the ground, not wanting to put you in any further pain.

"honey, please-," peter began to scan down your body. he wanted to find the wound, stop it from hurting you. he'd do anything.

"no, peter," you grabbed his face and redirected his sights back to you. "don't look at that, look at me." you smiled. your tired eyes were glazed over.

your fingers that hardly seemed to work made their way under his mask and pulled it over peter's head. the mask came off and revealed peter biting his lip, eyes full of tears.

"it's okay, sweetie,"

"no! it's not okay! don't- you can't leave me-,"

"i'm not leaving you, sweetheart,"

"you are, you are. i can't-i can't be without you,"

your hands kept on his cheeks and the smile on your face never left. you didn't want him to see you in pain. you didn't want him to remember you upset - because you aren't.

peter's tears soaked your fingers.

"i would never leave you, sweetheart, i'm-i'm not leaving."

peter broke away from your hands to look down and search for the culprit.

"hey," you quiet, breathy voice and weak fingers drew him back to your eyes. "stop, stop. just- me, look at me,"

"i-i love you,"

"i love you, too, peter," your droopy lids threatened to close but you refused. "you're doing great things, okay? you're-you're going to keep doing great things, okay?"

"okay," he stuttered through cries.

"p-promise me,"

"i promise,"

"you have to promise me, peter,"

"i do, i do, i promise,"

you nodded, leaning back on to the rubble, peter's hand still resting on your back. your eyes slowly searched for peter's hand, reaching and intertwining your weak fingers with him.

tears fell faster as he grabbed your hand firmly, not too tight in case you'd break.

"i'm not leaving you, okay, peter?"

"okay,"

"i'm-i'm not,"

"okay," his words of assurance were a stark contrast to his stuttering, sobbing, sadness.

"i l-love you,"

"i love you too, i love you so much,"

"keep doing good,"

"i promise, i will,"

the smile never faded, but peter watched as your glow did.

he watched as the light in your eyes left with your final blink. as the strength in your hand weakened. as the stiffness in your back collapsed onto his hand.

he pulled your limp body into a one-sided hug. your arms failed to wrap around his neck like they always used to. the crinkles in your eyes were soft and smooth. he seemed to be hyper aware of your breathless nose in the crook of his neck.

and he cried. he sobbed and screamed and pleaded for you to come back. that he didn't want to be without you, not again. he was miserable before you came in to his life and picked him off of the ground and rose him higher.

and peter was left alone on the manhatten bridge.

left alone with his anger and sadness once again.

⭒⭒

"okay, i have coffee, hot chocolate for ned's lola, and a little bit of whiskey for the man who's best friend just died," you muttered closing the door to ned's house carefully, hands full of the grocery bags full of candy and alcohol and stated drinks.

turning around, your sad eyes found the ones of the men standing around with the two children you were responsible for the safety of while peter and your, now deceased, best friend handled the criminals from the other dimension.

"oh, i would have got more coffee if i knew we were having guests," your shocked eyes scanned the unfamiliar men. "and, more alcohol," you looked the man in the spider-man costume up and down.

you smiled in spite of the awkward silence of all five people staring at you.

"oh, here, ned's lola," you grinned brightly handing the hot chocolate to the older woman.

"i'm going to bed!" she walked away, hot chocolate in hand.

"what's wrong with her?" you quirked an eyebrow over to ned.

the man in the spider-man costume muttered your name, and you finally met his teary eyes.

"hi, have we met?" you smiled softly, setting the full drink holder down on the table.

"they're peter parker's from other dimensions and i'm a wizard now! i can make portals with my bare hands!" ned burst out, his hands flying everywhere, while mj grabbed at a coffee, downing it without thought.

"i need a second," the 'peter' in the spider-man suit went for the door you had just come out of.

"oh, no, no, no, no! you are going to sit here with us-," mj began, shakily pointing between him and a chair.

"i just need a second!" he repeated louder, cutting mj off.

everyone stood watching as he left, slamming the door a bit, only to open it, let out a small apology to ned's lola, and close it again, gently.

"can you- i cannot- what the hell," mj muttered panicked under her breath.

your eyes lingered on the closed door. you grabbed your coffee as mj continued with her sputtering.

"hi," the nicely dressed man smile. "i'm peter, and he is peter, too."

"okay! sure," you smiled back, confusion written over your features with all that's happened. "peter's are here, too, now?" you looked to ned and mj.

ned, still in awe, nodded hurriedly. mj threw her hands up, lips forming into a thin line.

"okay, is he-," you gestured to the door. "is he okay?"

mj shrugged, obviously tired and confused, and most of all, worried. worried for peter, who you three had no idea of the location of.

"okay, don't worry about it, hon," you smiled and made your way towards the door. "nice to, uhm, meet you, mr.-," you stuttered over your words.

you still don't really understand all the multiverse stuff all too much, despite peter's explanation. you understood very well that you weren't the smartest when it came to the three brilliant science loving children, but when peter was explaining the whole situation to you, you'd never felt more similar to a wall.

"mr. parker?"

"yes," he nodded, and began speaking more directly to ned and mj about where your peter was and how he'd been looking for him.

you took the opportunity to sneak out of the door.

⭒⭒⭒

'peter' sat on the step to the house. his mind was full of you.

why were you here?

i mean, obviously it's not you, it's just you.

but you're so similar - why are you so similar?

why did you smile at him like that? like he was safe? you don't know him, peter shouldn't be safe to you. but, when he thought about it, you never treated anyone as if they weren't safe. that was something he loved about you.

you would have liked the shirt you are wearing, he would have bought you it as a gift if he saw it in a passing window.

his thoughts ran with all these insignificant thoughts about the two you's.

he wondered if your favorite color was the same, or if you had pets in this universe. or why you looked so damn similar.

he missed you, peter wasn't going to argue against that to anyone. it'd only been a couple of years. it's too soon to see you. fuck, it'd probably always be too soon.

"hey," he heard your voice. the tears that threatened his eyes finally blinked their way out of him. too soon, too soon, too soon, too soon. "are you okay?"

he found it insane how, even still with a different you, your voice is able to cut through any negative thoughts he was having. how you could quiet his mind and fill it with the most pleasant music.

of course you'd come out and check up on him. of course you're just as kind as you were. you are you, after all. no universe could lack your infinite warmth.

"i'm-i'm good, yeah,"

peter's voice cracked. he wanted to laugh at his bad acting.

you were silent for a bit.

peter stifled his sniffs and wiped at his cold, runny nose.

"you don't seem very 'good'." you repeated, hesitantly sitting next to him, a comfortable distance between you two. you silently handed him your coffee, which he slowly took hold of, keeping it close and muttering a thanks.

"i-i, um," peter went over his options and words.

he wanted to share with you. it's you: the person he told and shared every single thought with just two years ago, why wouldn't he want to share his thoughts with you? even if it's about how you died.

"there was a you in my universe,"

he noticed your eyebrows raise in interest. he noticed the sparkle in your eyes. "really?"

you always thought science was cool. you loved the idea of multiple universes, always coming up with different theories of how you'd be in different ones.

god, how he wished he could report back to you about this you.

he finally looked over to meet your eyes. you observed the redness and how glassy his eyes were.

"yeah, yeah, he-," peter choked on his words, not necessarily ready to share his darkest moments. even if it is with you. "tell me about yourself?"

"what?"

"what is your life like?"

you were taken aback by his statement. the only thing running through his mind was how you reacted the same when he asked you about your life in an effort to get to know you at the very beginning.

"oh-, i don't know how to summarize a life,"

peter felt his lips tug up a bit at your words. you're so awkward and nervous, just like you were at the start.

"i have a nice life. i mean it's been a lot recently with peter's whole identity thing. i have- erm," you coughed, choking on your words, remembering the news announcing her to have died. you let your eyes fall to the ground. "i had a really great best friend and we, you know. i helped her raise peter after ben,"

"who? aunt may?"

your pained eyes looked up and found his. "you know may?"

"i-i was raised by my aunt may, too."

"did i-?"

"no, no, you-" peter felt a sob kick in his throat. "you and i, we-uhm. you were my mj."

you felt your glassy eyes widen. your eyebrows finding your hairline.

you did find him cute. you two were certainly much more similar in age compared to your peter being on verge of eighteen

"i was?"

"you were,"

"what-what happened?"

"i-," peter swallowed his words but they kept resurfacing. "i got involved with someone who was trying to expose my identity, too. but you-you saved me. but i-i couldn't save you."

"oh," you watched his eyes train on the ground. they scrunched together in an effort to build a wall against himself. his fists balled up, his fingers bruising his palms.

you scooted closer. you wanted to keep your distance for his comfort. but, if you two were that close in his universe, you're sure he wouldn't mind how close you sat.

your arm fell onto his back, rubbing it in smooth circles. you took attention to how different his suit compared to the one you were most familiar with.

"you don't blame yourself, do you?" you almost heard a small laugh in his throat, and you suddenly became embarrassed by your question, "sorry, that was dumb. you're you, of course you do,"

he laughed louder, more hearty. more full.

you always had a way of making him laugh despite the circumstances.

"don't-don't blame yourself," you tripped over your words. "if-if i'm anything like me," you squinted your eyes at how odd the sentence was, "then i'm sure i was fully aware of the situation."

peter looked over to you. what a surreal experience it was, to be getting consoled about your death by you.

"i thought it was worth it. my life for yours. i feel the same about the peter from this universe. i'm sure i wanted you to be happy and continue doing good things,"

peter flinched at words that felt too similar to the sentiment you left him with.

"i wouldn't want you to stay grieving over me like this, peter. i don't want you to grieve over me like this. i want you to be happy and enjoying the life i left for"

peter's lack of sounds or movements stirred the pot of anxiety in your stomach. your fingers twitched and your eyebrows felt knitted together.

you didn't think twice about your instinct to very gently wrap your arms around him.

an arm crossed over his chest and tugged on his shoulder to pull him into you. your other hand made it's way into his hair, and you ran your fingers through the messy brownness.

he leaned into your touch, he'd never fight an opportunity to feel your touch again, even just once more. his head found its way onto your shoulder.

"i'm-i'm sorry, i'm not good with words," you whispered.

he laughed, tears falling despite his happiness to be in your arms. at least he can take it in and a enjoy it this time, truly absorb you knowing this would be the last time.

"it's okay, i know,"

you two sat like that for a long time. no words, just your hands nervously in his hair and his head relaxing on your shoulder, face in your neck.

you worried you smelled bad, and how badly you were with your words, whether you upset him more, if he could hear your heartbeat.

peter disregarded everything, though.

he took in your sweet smell, you smelled the same as you. he went over your words in his head, appreciating your thoughtfulness. he'd learned to decode what you and others felt were messy sentences. your "messy sentences" became the only ones he truly felt he could understand.

and he very much could hear how fast your nervous heartbeat was.

#male reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male!reader #spiderman #x male reader #spider man #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew!peter parker #andrew peter parker #tasm! peter parker x male!reader #spider-man #the amazing spider-man #the amazing spider man #question mark? #peter parker imagine #tasm peter x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker x male!reader #tasm!peter x you #andrew!peter x reader #andrew spiderman #male!reader #male y/n #request #spiderman no way home

[skylarinfinity]

may: [meeting peter boyfriend for the first time] so you confess first?

peter: [blushing] i ask him out first and i also who said i love you first.

m/n: [smirking and get on his knee] but i will the first one who proposed.

peter: yeah- [realising] wait what?!

tags lists @sonicqaulan @graysonfriggason @thebettermaximofftwins @sloanalistair @acienthazard @starlinggoldeneyes @ortegaolsen @wednesdaywanda @sandwichmarvel @gardenofmarvel @wanda-cabin-natasha-jacket @panandinpain0 @badblondebisexualboy

#male reader #malereader #male y/n #incorrect male reader #incorrect quotes male reader #male reader incorrect quotes #male reader imagine #male reader insert #male reader avengers #male reader marvel #avengers x male reader #marvel x male reader #incorrect peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes peter parker #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker #xmale reader #x male reader #x male y/n #x male!reader #male!y/n #male!reader #incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #incorrect quotes marvel #marvel incorrect quotes

[panandinpain0]

Yo so like, r u ok writing for Peter Parker?? If so, could you write a Peter x Male Reader where the reader is both a charmer and peter’s ultimate hype man (sorry Ned). Around prom season, Peter asks the reader for help to ask his crush to the prom, and the reader is sadge bc he thinks it’s MJ. Slight chaos and maybe some nervous gay boy stuff ensues??

Roses

Yes, I'd love to write for Peter Parker! (And because you brought up Ned I'm assuming it's Tom Holland's Peter.)

Also, I'm in love with this prompt <3

@@@

Requested by: Anon

Peter Parker x Male!Reader

---

Peter was at his locker, talking to Ned about his Lego death star, when (Y/N) approached his locker. Peter closed it and raised his eyebrows at (Y/N), while Ned jumped in shock (neither had seen him approach but Peter's spidey-senses- or should I say "Peter-Tingles"- came in handy).

"Are you guys planning a Star Wars marathon without me?" (Y/N)'s jaw dropped with a betrayed look on his face, hand to his heart. "What happened to the brotherhood?"

Ned snorted and Peter laughed, turning to walk down the hallway.

"We were gonna' invite you anyways, (Y/N), we always do," Ned reassured, giving in to his teasing.

"Good. So, whaddya' say, Pete? Star Wars at your house this Friday?" (Y/N) asked, putting his hand on Peter's shoulder and smiling at him as they walked.

Clearing his throat quietly, Peter nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

"It's a good thing too, because I need help studying for this chem test coming up, and I was wondering if you'd help me?" (Y/N) asked him, hand still on his shoulder.

In truth, (Y/N) was barely getting by in chemistry for a reason. It's not that he wasn't smart enough or that he wasn't putting in the work- it was that he was sat next to Peter and couldn't stop looking at him. Trying to goof off with him in class was one of (Y/N)'s favorite pastimes, and what got them in trouble the most.

This gave him an excuse to beg Peter desperately for help with his homework, therefore getting to spend more time with him. It was a solid plan in his mind.

"For sure! Studying and then Star Wars, sounds like the perfect Friday," Peter said back, always too nice (or too love-struck) to say no to (Y/N).

Ned looked between them, realizing they were doing the smiling-at-each-other-for-too-long thing, and coughed to get their attention.

(Y/N) and Peter both looked over at him and Ned smiled, "So, got any dates to prom yet?" It was meant to be a joke, the three of them in the "nerd" clique, even though realistically they were all very attractive and much more than just nerds. (Considering one of them was the web-slinging super hero, they were much more than just smart.)

"Nope," (Y/N) and Peter said in unison, laughing together.

"What about you, Ned?" (Y/N) asked back, and Ned shook his head like it was a joke he was even asking.

"Who'd wanna go out with me?" Ned asked a bit glumly, thinking he was the unattractive one in their friend group.

"Well, I have an idea." (Y/N) winked at him and pointed down the hallway. A girl named Darla, who they'd gone to school with since elementary, noticed she'd been caught staring and blushed, turning back to her locker quickly.

Ned stuttered for a minute, his face heating up. "No, she must've been looking at one of you-"

"Dude, she's been in love with you since the eighth grade!" (Y/N) insisted, moving between Peter and Ned and throwing his arm over Ned's shoulder. "I bet you twenty bucks that if you ask her out she'll say yes."

Shaking his head in doubt, Ned stuttered again, before giving up.

"She'll probably be asked out by the captain of the football team or something- that's always what happens with the cheerleaders."

"Oh, come on buddy. You've got a chance, you're the only one that doesn't see it," Peter insisted.

"She knows me because I help her with her calculus homework..."

"Just try. If not, what's the worse that can happen?" (Y/N) asked nonchalantly.

"I'll get humiliated."

"Or she could say yes," Peter countered.

"Fine, I'll do it if you guys leave me alone about it."

"That's all I ask." (Y/N) held his hands up in surrender. Then he turned to Peter and they fist bumped.

Once they got outside Ned split off, going his own way home while (Y/N) pulled out his skateboard. Happy waved from the limousine at Peter, letting him know that he was here to take him to Tony.

(Y/N) let out a low whistle, looking at the limo. "Nice ride, Parker. Perks from the internship?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, Mr. Stark sends Happy to pick me up when its more urgent." Technically it wasn't a full lie, he'd usually only get picked up by Happy if it involved emergencies.

"Well, drive safe. Text me if you need anything, or just if you're bored." (Y/N) pulled Peter into a hug, patting his back and putting down his skateboard.

"See you tomorrow!" Peter patting him back before watching him skate off, looking back to Happy. As he approached the door opened, and his jaw dropped as he saw Tony.

"Was that your boyfriend?" he teased, glasses at the end of his nose.

"Oh! Mr. Stark, I didn't know-"

"Hop in kid, we've got places to be."

...

Knocking on the Parker's apartment door, (Y/N) played with the colorful box in his hands.

May opened it, smiling when she saw who it was.

"(Y/N)! It's such a pleasure to have you, Ned and Peter are in Peter's room." May pulled him into a hug and (Y/N) returned it, smiling at the comfort he got every time he was welcomed into their home.

"Thanks, May. Here, my mom made you those cupcakes you like." He held out the box and May gasped, her smile getting brighter.

"Oh, that woman..." she shook her head in amusement. "Tell her thanks! Now I've got to make her that pasta she likes so much."

(Y/N) laughed and patted May's shoulder before making his way to Peter's room.

"Happy Friday boys!" (Y/N) announced as he walked into his room.

"You said that this morning," Ned commented laughing as (Y/N) slung his backpack to the floor.

"No, this morning I said 'It's Friday'. This time it's happy," (Y/N) corrected with a smirk, sitting down on the floor with Peter and Ned.

"Don't forget, it's not just Star Wars it's also studying," Peter reminded with a laugh, pulling his books out of his backpack.

(Y/N) let out a dramatic groan, clearly joking, because he didn't mind what he did as long as he got to hang out with his friends (especially Peter).

About half an hour into studying, Ned left to use the bathroom and Peter and (Y/N) started talking.

"You've asked people out before, right (Y/N)?"

"Yeah, why? You got someone in mind?" MJ was (Y/N)'s first guess. (Y/N) had seen how he looked at MJ and wished it was him instead.

Peter, on the other hand, was only thinking of (Y/N). He was extremely handsome and charming, always jokingly flirting with Peter- but no matter how smart he was, he was oblivious to Peter's obvious attraction to him.

"Uh, yeah, I do. I was wondering if you could help me ask them out to prom? Just like, give me tips or something on how to impress them..." Peter nervously chuckled as he trailed off, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh, sure! But I'm not sure there's much I can say to help. You're a really great guy Peter, and anybody would be lucky to have you. I know everyone says this, but just be yourself and depending on the reaction you get it'll tell you if they're the right person for you or not." (Y/N) shrugged, not really sure what else to say.

Peter nodded, trying to figure out how to impress (Y/N). "Should I get them flowers? Or make one of those 'promposal' signs?"

"I always thought those signs were kind of tacky, but if you think they'll like it then I think you should go for it. And I think the flowers are a nice idea..." (Y/N) tried to give him a smile, but he didn't think it looked very confident. It hurt, not knowing if he liked (Y/N) back- but it hurt worse knowing he liked someone else.

"Okay. Okay, I'll bring them flowers. What kind do you think I should get?"

Just then, Ned walked back into the room, stopping hesitantly in the doorway as if he'd interrupted something.

"Hey, Ned," (Y/N) greeted, smiling at him.

"What's up?" Ned asked, still not sure if he should sit back down or not. He considered making an excuse about asking May for snacks or something, but they weren't giving him any clear signs that he wasn't welcome in the conversation.

"Just talking about asking people to prom," Peter responded with a shrug, going back to his homework.

"Peter was wondering what flowers he should get for his crush," (Y/N) gained back some confidence with the joke, nudging Peter playfully.

"Oh?" Ned asked, eyebrows up as he retook his seat on the ground, looking between the two. He noticed their behavior and realized it was going to be weird for a while- and that he couldn't say anything. He held back a sigh at that thought.

"Yeah, what kind do you think I should get them, Ned?" Peter asked as (Y/N) started twirling his pen in his hand.

"Who're they for? Everyone has favorite flowers, right?" Ned thought aloud, looking through his notes.

"I say roses. Everybody likes roses," (Y/N) concluded, nodding as he talked.

The boys went back to studying (and eventually Star Wars).

...

Monday morning's were always rough, and prom was that Saturday so everybody was buzzing (much to (Y/N)'s annoyance).

Closing his locker with a yawn he turned to walk to his first class, chemistry with Peter, just to be jump scared by said boy.

"Woah! Peter, hey. Gave me a heart attack," (Y/N) mumbled as he clutched his chest, his breathing ragged.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to..." Peter looked sheepish as he gulped down his nerves.

"Are you okay? You look really... sweaty." That's when (Y/N) noticed the roses in his hand and his mood dropped. "Oh, you must be nervous to ask out your crush, huh?"

Peter nodded, taking in a deep breath.

"Yeah. I just hope he says yes." And he held out the flowers with a almost scared looking smile.

"(Y/N), will you go to prom with me?"

His jaw hit the floor, eyes wide with confusion and shock. He never thought in a million years Peter would ask him out, much less over MJ, who was watching from her locker next to his with a smirk.

Truth is, Peter knew that MJ and (Y/N) shared an art class and were friends, so he asked her for advice. That's what led to the awkward study conversation, and the roses in front of (Y/N)'s face.

"Wait- what? Really?" (Y/N) asked, searching Peter's face for any hints of a prank or deception. "You're shitting me, right Parker?"

Peter just shook his head, heart racing a mile a minute.

"You said roses, so I got you roses. I'm sure if you knew I was meaning you you'd have said another kind of flower but I couldn't figure out how to ask you what your favorite flower was without giving myself away-" Peter rambled, fumbling with the paper around the bouquet of roses.

(Y/N) put his hand on Peter's fumbling one and smiled at him, "I'd love to go to prom with you, Peter. I love the roses- and I'm so glad you didn't make one of those stupid poster boards."

The boys broke into somewhat relieved laughter and Peter pulled him into a hug.

That's when they remembered that they were in the middle of a highschool hallway. Everybody was staring at them, and both of their faces were shades warmer than before.

Ned, always the loyal friend, stepped in.

"Darla!" he all but shouted through the hallway, everybody's attention going to him. He was holding a singular tulip in his hand and was sweating bullets. "Will you go to prom with me?"

Some kids started laughing, but they turned into gasps as Darla nearly squealed as she nodded her head, her curls bouncing with her movement.

"Yes, Ned! I'd love to!" She hugged him, while he just stood there in absolute astonishment. His original plan was to pull attention away from his best friends by being humiliated, not by pulling the most beautiful and talented girl in the school.

(Y/N) started clapping and hollering, Peter soon joining him.

Then the bell rang, and everybody started going to their classes.

...

"I still can't believe that happened," Ned whispered from Peter's carpeted floor, staring up at the ceiling in amazement.

Peter and (Y/N) sat on his bed, putting together the Lego death star shoulder to shoulder. They'd steal looks at each other every once in a while, blushing at their newfound romance.

When they watched a movie with May later that night they held hands and shared a blanket, and all May did was smile at them when she noticed.

---

Yippee!!!

Not as chaotic as I'm sure you were hoping, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing this.

Thank you anon! I hope you liked it.

-Author Max <3

#fanfiction #x reader #fluff #x he/him reader #x male!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter x reader #avengers fandom #avengers masterlist #avengers x male!reader #marvel x male!reader

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Following Along (Tony Stark X Son!Reader) *PARENTAL

Characters: Tony Stark X Son!Reader, Peter Parker X Male!Reader (Platonic)

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Mention of serial killer, mention of dead body(s) (Both vague)

Request: How about a fic Tony Stark X Son Reader fic, where reader of a Sherlock type when it comes to his deduction, intelligence but also sometimes callous behaviour. Maybe Tony makes him hang out with Peter and his friends and it ends up him then following him around while he handles a case and it ends up with the Avengers tailing him.

Tony had known ever since his son was just a few months old that he was a little… quirky. He never really interacted with other kids at nursery or on playdates, and while other toddlers played with shapes and blocks, either together or alone, whenever Tony picked up Y/N and asked what he’d gotten up to, the answer was always something that was always… off. Like the time you made a poster detailing different bugs in the garden, drawing them and how they were different, or another day when you spent the entire time investigating and locating a little girl’s lost dinosaur toy, which sounded really sweet until the caretaker had to tell him that when you found it in another kid’s backpack, you dumped it out in front of everyone, pointed to the kid and called him a thief and made the kid cry. 

Now, any normal parent would show at least some concern about their kid’s behaviour, maybe put them in therapy, try and get that behaviour out of them. However, Tony saw something in you that stood out. You liked to investigate. You liked knowing things, you liked to solve puzzles, and as you grew older, this continued and grew, and instead of punishing you for being rather blunt or rude at times, especially when you pointed things out about you, Tony instead set up a simple rule of “You can only do that if the person was being mean in the first place or you have a good reason to” and gave you frequent tasks to keep you occupied. That worked fine for the most part, until you reached middle school. That was when he started getting called into the school because of incidents. 

It switched between you being bullied for being weird and quiet and rude at times, and you pulling stunts that always seemed to blow up and cause drama among the school. Like the time you blasted one of your classmates and bullies in the middle of an assembly for stealing other student’s work to get an award, even providing proof then and there, or the time when a teacher called in Tony about your behaviour, and you pointed out that you had been doing all your work and extra, and also that she was picking on you and suggested she stop unless she wanted her affair with another teacher to be announced over the speakers the next morning. All with a straight face, no mischievous smirk, or a glint of malice in your eye. It was also around that time when Tony suggested that you set up your own amateur detective agency, partially to hopefully help you in the process of pursuing a job you would clearly strive in, and also to stop you from investigating and exposing your teacher’s affairs. 

Well, that amateur detective agency, where you started off with helping students with their own problems, very quickly became far more professional when you started taking on older, paying clients and being an actual private detective in the city, gathering information for people, and in more than one occasion, actually working with the police with it. Needless to say, Tony had to ask Bruce to get in touch with his cousin as an emergency rep in case any of this backfired, though you assured your dad you had been working with another lawyer called Murdock or something on some cases.

Tony had a lot of mixed feelings now about your job that you were doing. On one page he was immensely proud of you, and he knew this was only the start of a successful career and he was already prepared to help you set up an actual office for you when you were old enough, he loved to hear from you about your latest successful case, and when you came to him for his opinion on your cases to look for leads and he got to see your mind at work. On the other side, he was worried about you. You stepped on the cop’s toes often, and your lack of filter frequently got you in trouble with them, and then there were the dangerous cases with high profile crime involved where you were at actual risk of being hurt, and of course, the long standing problem of your lack of social life, and it especially worried him since you just started High School. 

“Peter, can I ask you a huge, huge favour, and I’m being completely serious.” Tony asked of his intern on one of the rare times Peter was on base to update his suit. Peter looked up from where he was doing some homework, waiting for the update to be complete to look at Tony. 

“Of course Mr Stark, what can I do?” Peter inquired, admittedly maybe a bit too excitedly.

“As you know, I have a son- Y/N. He’s not the best socially, and he has this private detective work going on outside of school, and it’s actually getting pretty serious. He told me about a new case he’s started, and I feel like he might actually get in trouble- can you just watch him please? Make sure he’s not in any actual danger?” Tony asked. “I don’t want you to feel like this is a babysitting job- it’s really not. Y/N’s cases are usually actual criminal cases, but he’s a year younger than you and I’m genuinely worried his bluntness is gonna get him in serious trouble with the wrong people.” 

“I can do that!” Peter assured him with a smile. He of course knew about Y/N Stark’s private detective work, people talked about it who were in middle school with you as well as the stunts you pulled, and quite often people would ask if you were involved in a recently solved case, and sometimes you answered in the affirmative, so he knew that you were in serious stuff. “Would you like me to be with him or tail behind or..?” 

“Tailing won’t work, he’ll notice immediately. Just tell him you want to follow along and be his back up if anything goes south- he worked out you were Spiderman before I did, you’re not gonna hide anything from him.” Tony explained. Peter didn’t have time to properly process the fact that you knew who he was before he’d already accepted his task and had left the base to prepare for tomorrow.

When Peter arrived to school the next day, as soon as he entered the school, he was greeted by MJ and Ned, who could see he was on a mission and had something on his mind as soon as he came in. “What’s going on?” MJ asked as she watched him look around the hallways, over people’s heads. 

“I might need to skip school today. Mr Stark’s given me the task to follow his son around on a case he’s doing. It’s dealing with some serious crime so he wants me to be there in case things go sideways.” Peter explained to them.

“An actual criminal case?” Ned asked, and Peter nodded. “Any idea what it is?” 

“No, Mr Stark didn’t state, but I’m gonna ask Y/N when I join him.” Peter answered. 

“Can we tag along?” MJ asked, leaning on the line of lockers. 

“Uh… are you sure? It might be dangerous.” Peter asked, wide eyed, getting a nod from the girl, and Ned got an excited grin on his face. “Okay, but if we actually get in trouble, run at the first chance you get, okay? I’ll worry about Y/N.” Peter told them, and after getting the affirmative, the three of them went on the search for you. 

 For Tony, he took no news as good news. He’d not heard anything on the news, Peter hadn’t called or texted, neither had you, and FRIDAY was silent about anything to do with the spider suit. It took that as things were going more than smoothly, you and Peter were playing nice, and hopefully you’ll have a new friend by the end of the day, and so he let himself relax a little bit and actually focus on his work.

It wasn’t until Pepper waltzed into his lab that he realised something was up, since she came in around the same time everyday; 5pm, long after school had finished, when you should be home, when FRIDAY would let him know Peter was using the suit. Something was off. He wasn’t sure if it something was exactly wrong, but it was off at least. His first course of action was to drop a text to Peter, asking how the case had gone, presuming by now it would be over and done with and maybe the kids had lost track of time and maybe were busy just being teenagers and having fun. He watched the screen after sending the message for a few seconds, watching as Peter read it, and started to respond, before the text popped up for him to see. 

We’re still working on it

Now THAT was weird. It was vague with no details, almost like Peter was busy or focussed on something else. Tony didn’t feel great about that, and so immediately called his son, turning to Pepper who had been watching him since she came in, trying to figure out why he was suddenly in a panic with her showing up. After a few rings, you answered. “Dad I’m kind of busy right now.” You answered him 

“Y/N, can you give me an idea of what’s happening? You’re usually home by now and I’ve not heard a peep from you all day.” He asked, glancing at Pepper who immediately understood what was happening. “Is Peter with you?” 

“Yes. And Ned. And MJ. They’re being really helpful, thanks for sending them.” You answered, your voice being slightly muffled with the sound of fabric, and Tony could tell you had the phone pressed between your head and shoulder. “You know how I was hired to track that man’s movements before he went missing?” 

“Yes, it’s in the newspaper, your biggest case- insanely proud- did you find something big?” 

“Oh yeah he’s the victim of a serial killer and I’m working on finding the other victims and the killer.” You answered him far too calmly for your father’s liking. 

“What- how are you doing that? Please tell me you got the police involved and you’re not planning to go body hunting as an after school activity- where’s Peter and the others?” Tony demanded towards you.

“Of course I’ve got the police involved- I sent them to look for the bodies in the places I think they are about… 4 hours ago? Anyway- dad can you get FRIDAY on the call please I need her. Peter forgot his spider suit.” You requested, answering a few questions your father had but adding so many more. FRIDAY, at the mention of her name immediately inserted herself. 

“How can I help Mr Stark? She inquired, her inserting herself immediately putting your call onto speaker. Pepper came to Tony’s desk and stood beside Tony, who put his phone down on the desk and just leant over to put his head in his hands. 

“FRIDAY, I need to narrow down who lives on Gallow Way, New York. We’re looking for a Man, within the 40 to 60 age range, possibly married in the past but now divorced and living alone.” You detailed.

“Y/N Stark you better not be thinking of confronting a killer!” Pepper spoke up, and silence fell over the phone. 

“Does it help if Peter’s here, police are on route and his technique for killing isn’t a gun?” You inquired to her. 

“Absolutely not- stay right there, I’m coming.” Tony ordered, calling his suit and immediately flying out the building to go collect his son and intern. In retrospect, he guessed he should have known that Peter would get caught up in your shenanigans and aid you in them rather than calming you down in these situations. Still, he was just glad that you had Peter with you- that did make him feel a little bit better in the prospect that you did face off against a serial killer. Not a thing he thought he’d be saying to himself when he became a father. 

By the time he got there, the police were already there, having already arrested the man and were searching the house, and he spotted his son talking with an officer who was taking extensive notes, Peter, MJ and Ned not far away. He walked over to them first, and they saw him as soon as he landed and straightened up a little as he walked up to them. “What I’d miss?” He asked, before quickly adding “Please tell me you didn’t see a dead body.” 

“No, we were just following the person’s last movements before I guess Y/N realised he’d seen something similar and quizzed us on some other missing people to see what we knew. We did a bit of googling for more information before Y/N announced it’s a serial killer and sort of just… put together a description of what the guy would be like who did this, looked at a map and picked some spots where the bodies could be then called the cops.” Michelle explained to him in a confused tone, which was understandable. 

“Have they found anything yet?” He asked next. 

“Apparently they did find something at one the spots Y/N highlighted a few minutes ago… which is terrifying.” Ned commented. Tony nodded quietly, before going on his phone, selecting a few things, before looking back at the kids in front of him. 

“Alright, a private car will be here in 5 minutes, it’ll take you home, okay? Peter, do you want to go with them?” Tony asked, getting a rushed nod from the teen, and Tony was starting to regret asking him to tag along with your antics. Maybe he’d been too lenient with you. Maybe he should restrict what cases you can take on…

“Mr Stark?” Tony glanced up from his thoughts at the sound of Peter, humming to tell him he was acknowledged. “If Y/N has any big cases again, can I tag along? Other than the whole serial killer thing… it was kind of fun and interesting. I learnt some things that could help me if I need to do my own investigations.” Peter requested, getting slightly wide eyes in response. 

“Uh… sure, just ask Y/N beforehand to be sure he’s comfortable with it, okay?” Tony responded, and Peter grinned and nodded, before Tony turned and started to make his way over to his son, still rambling to the cop who on close inspection almost looked frazzled. “Y/N.” He called, making you stop and turn to face him. 

“Hi dad, I’m nearly done here, just letting them know what kind of things they need to be looking for in the house and stuff.” 

“I’m sure they can figure it out with the extensive notes you’ve already had them writing. Say anymore and they might thing you’re the killer, not the detective.” He joked with you, giving an apologetic smile to the cop as he took your shoulder to pull you away. “If you have any other questions don’t be afraid to call us- I’m sure he’ll be happy to help.” He excused, starting to lead you away. “Did you go in the house?” 

“No. But I did snoop in the back-” Tony interrupted you with a sigh. He swore you were going to be the death of him one of these days.

Hope you like it! Sorry for the super slow posts, I’ve been overwhelmed recently with things I need to do and it’s making me not want to do anything creative. If you have any questions, please send them in! 

*Not my gif

TAGS:  @klanceiscannon14​  @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog​ @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort  @freyathehuntress​ @abbybills22-blog​ @mutantjediavenger​ @theoraekensnotsosecretlover​ @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp  @rebellionofthecattle  @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic   @courtneychicken​  @graysonmalfoy​ @bellero​ @originalpottervengerlock​ @supernatural-pan​ @esoltis280​ @lady-of-lies​ @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980​ @cdwmtjb8​ @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines​ @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe  @petersparkers3

#marvel #Avengers #Iron Man #spiderman #tony stark #peter parker #pepper potts #Michelle Jones #ned leeds #Tony stark x reader #Tony stark x male!reader #Tony Stark x son!reader #Peter parker x reader #Peter Parker x male!reader #x reader #x male reader #x son!reader #reader #male!reader #son!reader #oneshot #writing #story writing #question #request #ask me anything #ask questions #send me asks #send me questions #send me stuff

[kanataka-san]

(Y/N): you picked up a fight with the wrong person

Villain: who? You?

(Y/N):*shakes his head pointing behind the masked man*

Villain: *turns around but sees noone then hear click behind him*

(Y/N): now, be a good boy and hand me your weapon, police is already on their way.

Spider man:*hanging in the corner of the old bulding watching his boyfriend* wha the f-

#avengers x male reader #male reader #marvel x male reader #marvel #the avengers #peter parker #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #andrew garfield spiderman x male reader #andrew garfield x male reader #tom holland x male reader

[multifandomxreader]

Headcannons with Peter Parker with an emo catboy (male reader) from another universe?

Soooo, it's been a while since I have written but my mental health is better now and I have more motivation! so enjoy, I hope you like it

Peter Parker x emo catboy

• opposites attract

• he has dog energy, you have cat energy

• he's a ray of sunshine while you prefer to stay in the shadows

• you met fighting an interdimensional supervillain, who had destroyed your home

• you have cat-like superpowers

• before Peter knew your real name he called you cat noir

• he had a crush on him while watching Miraculous Ladybug

• and now he had a crush on you

• when you defeated the villain you decided to stay in Peter's universe since you had nothing to return to in yours

• you went on a few dates after that

• your first "date" was just Peter catching you up with everything about his universe

• you wouldn't have called it a date if he hadn't acted the way he did

• Peter didn't like to admit it but he was kinda intimidated by you

• there are so many differences between you two but that's what makes your relationship work

he makes you watch a lot of old "classics" and you make him listen to your favorite music

he takes a lot of pictures of you, he thinks of you as his muse

• Peter likes physical affection

• so after you officially start dating it the amount triples

• lots of cuddles

• you don't always like to admit it, but you love it

• you love him and he loves you

#peter parker x male!reader #peter parker #peter parker x male reader #spiderman x male reader #male reader #catboy reader #peter parker x reader

[thealtoduck]

Wild Side

Peter Parker x Male Black Cat!Reader

Warnings: Smut, friends with benefits, bottom!Reader, jealous top!Peter, shower sex, sex in school showers, anal sex, unprotected sex, fingering, blow job, cum swallowing…

Male Black Cat!Reader: Masterlist

Summary: You and Peter stay behind after class and shower together…

——

It was towards the end om gym class, you were hanging out with friends when you heard the bane of your existence speak up from behind you. ”Damn Y/n, if you do any more squats your gymshorts are gonna explode” Flash said flirtily.

”Hey Flash” you said dryly turning around to meet his wandering eyes. He grabbed your arm pulling you out of earshot from your friends. ”So i was thinking maybe you and me could stay after class, wait for the others to leave the locker room and have some fun in the shower”.

”Flash, that time at my place was a one time thing” you said awkwardly. ”Come on, you can’t deny our chemistry” Flash said. ”Flash, you were desperate, i was bored and drunk, i wouldn’t call that chemistry” you told him.

”Fine, don’t worry i’ll find someone else” he said walking off grumpily. You turned to get back to your friends not knowing that a certain brunette boy and his friend had overheard you. Peter couldn’t help feeling slightly jealous of the thought that you and Flash of all people had slept together.

Peter then decided to do something bold he like Flash came up to you while you were with you friends and asked ”Y/n, can i talk to you for a sec?”. ”Yeah sure” you said with a smile now that it was Peter.

”Can i fuck you in the showers later?” Peter asked casually, making your eyes widen as you were caught of guard. Seeing Peter this direct stirred up something inside you making you utter a shy ”Sure”. Then you went back to your friends.

Once the school bell rang people hurried out to the locker rooms as it was your last lesson of the day. Peter came up to you and planted a kiss on your cheek, the two of you hung out for a while in the gym hall until the others had left the locker room.

You then entered it and went to your lockers and started getting undressed. You got your towel out of your locker and then went and found a naked Peter by his locker. He closed his locker and turned to you. The two of you looked each other in the eyes and passionately started making out.

Peter then took you hand and guided you towards the now empty school showers. You put your towels aside and stepped under the showerhead, turning on the water. You made out as you were both getting drenched in it’s warm water.

Peter’s hand slipped down to your now hard cock and he started stroking your it with a firm grip. You moaned softly against Peter’s wet lips. Peter pressed you against the tiled wall, making you gasp as the cold tiles met your back.

Peter then got down on his kness in front of you taking your dick in to his warm mouth. You put your hand in his wet hair as he sucked your fat cock. He moved his head back and forth making you moan softly.

”Peter, you’re doing so good” you praised as Peter moved his tongue up your shaft. You already felt yourself getting close to cumming. ”Peter, i’m gonna cum” you said. Peter continued working your cock until he you spilled your load in his mouth.

”Shit Peter, swallow my cum” you said and Peter did as commaned, swallowing your seed. Your cock went flaccid as Peter stood back up. ”Ready get fucked?” Peter asked. ”You lead” you told him. Peter turned you around making you face the wall, water falling on your back

Peter immediately ran a finger over hole and started pushing one in to loosen you up, he continuly added more as he fingered you open for him. You felt your cock getting hard again as Peter got you ready.

Peter then started teasing you opening with his rock hard cock. ”Ready?” he asked. ”Yeah” you said needily as you pushed your ass against him. Peter lined himself up with your hole and started pushing himself inside.

You groaned as Peter’s thick legth penetrated you. Peter sank his shaft all the way in to your tightness. ”Fuck, so tight on my cock” Peter swore holding your hips firmly. He then slowly started pulling out before once again pushing back in.

You he started thrusting a slow paste. You moaned Peter’s name as he planted kisses on your neck. He then started moving a bit faster as he pushed in to you. He moved you closer to the wall and pinned you against it as he fucked your hole.

Your wet bodies were pressed against each other as Peter then said ”Flash, can’t fuck you like this can he” as his thrusts echoed in the empty shower and locker room. ”No” you whined as Peter’s cock hit your prostate.

”Who’s the only one who can fuck you like this?” Peter asked more dominant than usual, his body pressed hard against yours as he relentlessly fucked you into your tightness. ”You” you said wealky as Peter pounded your ass.

You felt your cock get ready to cum a second time as it was pressed against the shower room wall. ”I’m gonna cum” you said as Peter continued thrusting roughly. ”Cum for me, Y/n” he said fucking you restlessly.

You came once again your seed splashing over the shower wall. Peter chased his own orgasm his hard cock needing release. With one last deep thrust he filled your ass with his seed, once he pulled out his cock, his cum started to leak out of your now gaping ass.

The two of you then helped to wash each other off and got out of the shower. You took your towels and dried yourselves and then went to get dressed. As you both were getting dressed Peter asked ”So when did you and Flash happen?”.

”Oh, that? A couple of months ago like a week before i met you and we started you know…” you explained. ”Oh…” Peter said suprised. ”What?” you questioned. ”I kinda thought it was a more recent thing which is kinda why i wanted to do this, i kinda got a little jealous” Peter confessed.

”Well then i guess i should get you jealous more often” you teased him making him laugh. Once you both were finished you left the locker room together.

”Wanna come to my place and watch a movie?” Peter asked excitedly.

”Yeah, sure” you said and took Peter’s gentle hand in yours as you walked away from the school.

#peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #spider man x male reader #spiderman x male reader #peter parker x male black cat reader #marvel x male!reader #male reader #x male reader #x male!reader #mcu x male reader #avengers x male reader #avengers x male!reader #peter parker x male reader smut

[tomurderornottomurder]

if we could just pretend; peter parker

pair. ceo!peter parker and male!reader

summ. peter reunites with an old friend. his old friend is a recovering drug addict. his old friend doesn't recover.

gen. angst, fluff, hurt/no comfort

wc. 8.8k

tw. death, drugs, addiction, overdose descriptions, blood, injury descriptions, decomposition descriptions, body descriptions from drug use, alcohol, guilt, food/eating mentions

note. can you tell i'm clearing out old drafts? song is if we could just pretend by flatsound. this has been sitting in my drafts forever and also this is the longest oneshot i've ever written. this has been two years in the making simply because i forgot it existed and got stuck several times and i did not know how to end it, so please enjoy and feedback is appreciated. as it's been sitting, my writing might show some of it's age but overall, i think it's solid. lastly, disclaimer that i have never dealt with drug addiction myself but have been around people who have so if anything is incorrect please let me know so i can improve/change it.

Where did you go, and what did you do,

With all that time, you too scared to move?

"I really appreciate this, Pete." You slap a hand on his shoulder, "I promise to make it up," You point a finger at him, "and you can hold me to that, alright?"

"You don't owe me anything, you know that," Peter replies, holding one of your bags.

The elevator dings and you step out. Peter's penthouse is extravagant and honestly just not like him. "Holy shit," You mumble. "You sure you live here?" You turn to him with raised brows.

Peter laughs softly, "I've got a few spare rooms so let me know which one you like best."

You throw your arms around his neck and press a kiss to his cheek. "Peter!" You drop your arms to wrap around his torso, "Ah, thank you so much."

Peter freezes up as his face turns bright red. He drops your bag to reciprocate your hug and rubs a hand up and down your back, "It's no problem." He's forgotten how affectionate you can be.

"You're the best, Petey!" You give him a squeeze before pulling away. You laugh softly, "Sorry 'bout the kiss, I'm just so excited! And oh my god have I missed you!" You wrap him into another hug and squeeze.

"Can't breathe," He mutters.

You pull away and put your hands on his shoulders, "Sorry, man." 

"Well, I hate to leave you but I'm going to be late for a meeting. I should be back soon, feel free to explore."

"You sure?" You quirk a brow at him, putting your hands on your hips.

"Definitely. Enjoy yourself,"

"Oh," You laugh as Peter heads to the elevator. "Peter Parker, you have made a mistake giving me such freedom."

He just laughs, "Don't burn the place down." He flashes a smile before the elevator doors close.

You twirl around in amazement, "You have really outdone yourself, Pete." You tour each room and finally pick one down the hall from Peter's. You unload your things and roughly set up your room to keep yourself busy. You explore the penthouse to get an idea of the layout and your mind piles questions up to ask Peter later. Out of pure curiosity and boredom, you peek into Peter's room. You smile at the light blue walls and vintage, framed posters. You take a step inside to get a better view and quirk a brow at a discarded bra on the floor. "Oh," You mutter. What have you been up to Peter?

"I'm back!" Peter announces, stepping out of the elevator. 

What is it like, to be by yourself, for three and a half years

For roughly three and a half years

"Welcome home, Pete." You smile at him. "So, what's on the menu?"

"I'll just cook something," Peter shrugs, taking off his suit jacket and hanging it up. "What do you like?" 

You shrug, "Anything you cook, I'll probably eat." 

"Great," He flashes a smile but you can clearly see how tired he is. He rolls the sleeves of his button-up to his elbows as he strides into the kitchen.

You follow Peter into his kitchen, taking a seat at the island while he sifts through pots and pans. "So, the famous Peter Parker doesn't have a personal chef or something?" You rest your head on your hands as you lean your elbows onto the island. You watch Peter as he gracefully pulls out ingredients and prepares them.

"I like cooking," is his simple reply.

"For your lady friends?" You smirk.

He cranes his neck in your direction with wide eyes, "What?"

You laugh, "I saw a bra on your floor. Is it from a girlfriend or a mistress?" You bite your lip to hold in another laugh as you watch Peter become more and more flustered. This is the Peter Parker I know. 

"I don't have a girlfriend or mistress," He points a pan at you. "But it's probably from a one-night stand," He shrugs, turning back to his stove.

"One-night stand? Is this my Peter Parker who couldn't ask out Liz Allan or Mj? How's Mj doing by the way?" He really has changed. 

"She's in Europe right now," 

"Good for her," You reply. "But back to my point, since when has Peter Parker been a one-night stand kind of person?" 

He shrugs, "I grew up I guess." 

"Being rich turned you into Tony Stark?" You chuckle, looking at him with pure adoration. He shakes his head with a low giggle. "Onto my next line of questioning then," You get up from your seat walking to his side. "You have alcohol?" He points to a cabinet. "Great. Now that wasn't my question," You reach up and grab some alcohol of your choice. "Why do you have so many paintings?" You lean onto the island, alcohol in hand.

He shrugs, "I enjoy art." He starts throwing ingredients into a pan.

"Are you okay? Did your meeting turn to shit?" 

He quirks a brow and looks at you as he tosses in more ingredients. "Why?"

"You're kinda snappy today. You can tell me what happened," You grab the bottle of alcohol and offer it, "and have a drink." 

He sighs, "Sure, pour it." He throws in a few more ingredients before pouring a bit of vegetable oil. 

"Anything special?" You ask, grabbing a glass from a cabinet. He shakes his head, focusing on his cooking. You smile and decide to whip him up the same thing you had when you got him to drink alcohol for the first time. "This is a classic, Peter Parker. And frankly, if you don't recognize it, I'll be offended." You smile at him as you mix his drink. 

He chuckles and shakes his head before turning his attention back to cooking. His mind is all over the place, especially with you here and by his side, he needs to focus on his cooking though.

"We make such a great pair," You start as you finish pouring his drink. "You can cook and I mix a mean drink." You slide over his drink and start downing your own. You sigh, leaning onto your hand and watching Peter. This is a nice moment, a nice break from the hell of your life.

Silence takes over the kitchen with the only noises being the moving of glasses and sounds of the food cooking. Peter's entire focus is on his cooking while your mind wanders. You watch him for a bit before momentarily drawing your attention away to refill your glass every so often. You think about how much he's changed since high school. How he's still the same yet vastly different. How your worlds greatly differ and how lucky you are for your path having come across his again. 

"Peter," You start -a bit too quiet for your liking- with your throat burning, guilt coming up just like puke does. "Peter," You repeat and this time your voice is at a volume you like. "What did you do?" You ask this too quickly. You catch how vague the question is and expand further, "I know we weren't the closest and we still aren't and I'm sorry but what did you do? What did you do in those years I was gone? I know I didn't keep in contact like Mj and everyone else did- and Ned stayed here so-" You cut yourself off. You're rambling too much. "I shouldn't have left like I did. No contact, not even a text or DM. That was shitty but I want to know what you did? What did you do by yourself?"

Peter turns to you with a soft smile but you can feel the sadness behind it. He really doesn't know what to say. "It's okay, you know?" His head is tilted down but his eyes peer up to look at you. "It's okay that you left," He wants to assure you and hope he does. He can't be sure that he's reassuring though because he's not sure the words he's using are right. "By myself," He mumbles to himself but doesn't realize it. He sighs before explaining what happened after graduation, how he graduated college early, and lastly how he inherited some of Tony Stark's company and started his own. 

"God," You shake your head after Peter finishes. "I wish I could say the same," You chuckle sadly. Your mind wanders back to before now, before college, just at the beginning of the disaster that your life is.

If we could just pretend, that I went to college

And that is why you, you haven't seen me

Your future looked bright. You just graduated and were sorting through college acceptance letters. Peter was doing the same with his Aunt. You really wanted to go to a college out-of-state; you'd lived in New York forever and wanted to branch out. Not only did you want to attend college across the country but you planned to study abroad; hopefully the college you chose to attend had one of those programs. You needed a new adventure and sure there was always something going on in New York with all the battles and things but you needed to be the adventurer. 

Your first weeks of summer were spent thoroughly vetting the few colleges that truly spoke to you. You were planning to visit each campus, even one with Peter though he was set on attending school near his home. It made you kind of sad to think about; you and Peter were set on different paths. But you knew Peter would keep in touch; he never broke a promise. He was good like that, such a good person, such a good friend.

---

Two weeks into college; things were rough. You liked- well, no. You loved it. A new atmosphere was really what you needed. It's just that starting over is hard. You knew no one, had to navigate campus virtually by yourself, and classes were difficult; nowhere near what high school was like. It was exhilarating, too! So much to learn, so many people to meet, so many opportunities. You were honestly so caught up in all the newness you had forgotten about Peter; obviously, you knew he existed, and every so often something would remind you of a memory you had with him but when he texted and called, you never answered. You were just so busy and every time you checked your messages, it was late and you didn't want to bother Peter; you were sure you'd get back to him soon enough. 

A year had passed before Peter stopped texting and calling. You didn't blame him and soon he completely left your mind. He hadn't been new enough for you and the guilt of this still burns in your chest.

Two years in and you were abroad in France. The country was beautiful, the people were interesting, the nightlife was exciting, and the drugs... the drugs were out of this world. The drugs took off the edge, they helped you forget, and they came in handy to crank out assignments. Well, that's how they started off, that's always how it started.

It wasn't long before you were in a week-long bender and lost in France. While high, you dropped out of college in a short, curse-filled phone call. You had missed your flight back to America anyway. From then on, you went spiraling further and further. Your mind was a blank slate and France held no consequences. You weren't native to the country and whatever happened there would stay there. You could abandon the country and fly home and forget it all ever happened. At least you thought you could.

I wanted to go, but not for this long

"Why can't you? What happened?" Peter asks as he slides a plate over to you and takes a seat next to you. He's truly worried, he hasn't seen you in what feels like forever and he just wants to know. He wants to be able to help someone he used to and still holds so close to himself.

You shake your head. You can't tell Peter what happened; there is no way you won't throw up if you do. You shrug and twirl the pasta Peter had made around your fork. "Well, I didn't graduate, unfortunately," You bite your lip. Fuck, I think I'm going to cry. Your childhood dream of graduating slipped through your fingers and all you have to blame is yourself.You choke down a sob before continuing with a chuckle to cover for yourself, "But hey! At least I got to get out of New York and I even went to France!" You beam at him before trying the pasta he's made you. Filling your mouth with Peter's wonderful cooking helps to stave off the sobs and quiet the burning sadness within you if only for a little bit.

"You can always go back," He proposes. "That's what Mj did," He adds, looking up at you with that bright smile of his. 

That smile sends you back to high school and all the good times you had with Peter. Your heart is full, swelling, bursting at the seams. This is a good feeling, you miss this; feeling good all over, your whole body filled with goodness. "I guess," You shrug. "But it feels like it's too late." The statement is one of defeat and both Peter and you know that. You gave up so easily and you can only hate yourself for it.

"It's never too late," Peter beams at you again. 

You can't help but smile back before replying, "I mean-" You sigh, "I guess I could but money's kind of a problem and I don't know if I can do the whole uh, going to lectures and mingling thing." You want to believe his words because some small part of you does but it's too real for you to face right now.

Peter wants to act laid back but he quickly replies, "I could always pay for it. I- I wouldn't mind at all," He suggests. "And if you want, we could sign you up for online courses! You could um," He bites his lip. Should I? And he does, "Stay here and attend your classes." It was hopeful and a stretch but Peter wants it. He misses you. He is worried about you. He doesn't quite realize it yet but now that you are back in his life, he wants to keep it that way; to keep you around and more importantly, keep you safe. He can't lose you again, that's too real for him to face.

You don't know what it is. Maybe having someone care for you is too much. It is terrifying. It's even sickening in a strange way. You really haven't kicked your addiction yet and it is so easy to get drawn back in. You wish it weren't but it just is. And now you're lying on Peter's living room floor, foaming at the mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head, and reaching out for someone who isn't there.

I overdid it

I overdid it

Well, Peter is there. He steps out of the elevator but he doesn't see you right away. Your body is blocked by his sofa but your coughs and gurgles fly over it. Peter's ears perk up and his spider-sense starts going crazy. He dashes and then jumps over the couch. He kneels beside you, his eyes wide, mouth going a mile a minute as he tries to say something- anything coherent. He quickly calls 911, holding your hand throughout and swiping his thumb over the top of your hand. He assures you that you'll be fine and keeps repeating that he's there.

Soon enough sirens flood the building and paramedics stampede into Peter's loft. Yelling and screaming ensue as Peter screams, fighting to stay by your side while police and paramedics yell. Three police officers have to not only drag Peter away but hold him down as he fights relentlessly to stay by your side. He just wants to know- he needs to know that you are okay. He can't lose you, it's too real.

As his body and mind calm so do his thoughts. His mind explores the possibility of him getting in the way of paramedics saving you and so he gives up, letting the officers restrain him with ease. But his mind wanders further and further. How did you get drugs? Why? Did he do something to set you off? What had he done? 

Of course, none of his thoughts hold any truth but the possibility that they could, begin within Peter a ceaseless torrent of tears. He's sure by the time you leave the building and the police finally let him go, he could fill thirty pools with all the tears he's shed. But there's no time to dwell on his thoughts, he has to get to the hospital and be at your side! He won't let you leave him so easily, not again.

Why did you say, that I was one in a million? 

Everything's been a blur. This moment now is blurry but you are present within it. Peter is sitting at your side, slumped over in a chair, one hand holding yours and the other holding his forehead as he mumbles curses to himself. 

Slowly, you turn your head and unknowingly squeeze Peter's hand. In an instant, he's looking up at you and your eyes are open staring back at him. He could just scream! "Y/n," Your name rolls off his tongue and out of his mouth breathlessly, desperately. You both hold each other's gaze and each other's hand. The moment is blurry but it is nice.

"Peter," You whisper back, voice sore and croaky. You squeeze his hand again, it says more than your words ever could. 

The pooled tears that have been swimming next to Peter's eyes finally fall and flow down his cheeks. Most tears follow the red paths down his already tear-stained face, a few divert creating new paths for the seemingly endless stream of tears. "I-" His voice and his pain catch in his throat. What can he say? What could he possibly fucking say? 

"Why did you have so much faith in me?" You have to ask. You have to know. And you assume by now he has lost all that faith and so you must phrase the question the way you do. Your chest and whole upper body hurt like hell. There's a burning near your heart and in your throat, there's a tightness strangling your throat and crushing your ribs but the look Peter gives you hurts much more. The guilt within you burns hotter than Hell could ever be imagined to.

Because I believed it

You lean into Peter and Peter into you as he helps you walk out of the hospital. At the very moment that your foot hits the pavement, rain starts to fall, pelting you both in a way that can only be seen as some divine punishment. Even so, to you, the rain is heavenly and a respite from the thick cleanness and infuriatingly boring white inside the hospital. Peter quickly slips his jacket from his shoulders and carefully pulls you closer to him before covering both of your backs and heads with the jacket the best he can. 

He rushes with you to the passenger side first, letting you slip into the seat he closes the door for you. You watch him only for a moment as he reaches the driver's side. You keep your head down, looking at your lap, and unwittingly begin to pick at your fingers. Your nerves are through the roof now more than they ever were in the hospital. At least in the hospital, you can expect Peter to be mostly calm but now you don't know how he might act. He's changed so much after all this time and who's to say he won't scream and yell at you? You swallow down your nerves as you hear Peter plop into his seat next to you.

Surprisingly and thankfully, the car ride is quiet. The rain pelting the car helps to ease your mind if only for a bit. You allow yourself a quick glance at Peter. His expression is almost unreadable if not a bit sad. Quickly, you turn away before you can start crying yourself and watch as cars and people and buildings pass you by.

Peter's mind is swirling with thoughts and question after question bounces around in his head. He wants to ask so many things but he can't and he knows that. He doesn't want to make you feel worse than he knows you're feeling right now. He just wants to let you have this time and hopefully, you can gather your thoughts enough to answer him when you're back at his loft. The whole time he drives though, his knuckles burn white as he grips the steering wheel too tightly. There's a tension that won't leave his body.

---

You two reach the building and before Peter reaches your side of the car, you step out, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, head held down as rain pelts the back of your head. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. The pelts of the rain help you keep a rhythm as you silently curse yourself and demean yourself with names. Each drop of rain against your skin serves as an insult your brain must deliver to itself. It isn't going to help but it does make you feel better. All the while you've been standing just outside the car, Peter has pulled his jacket over himself and motions for you to come under. You shake your head and trail a foot or two away still following him.

In minutes, you reach an entrance into the building and Peter holds the door open for you. You step through the threshold, head still down, and arms still wrapped around yourself. It's almost as if you were to move your arms away, your body would simply fall to pieces. Peter is at your side in a moment and you continue to follow him into the elevator. You both stand awkwardly and shivering a few feet apart as your clothes and body drip rain onto the marble floor of the elevator. This ride is as silent as the car but has a more threatening ambiance. 

The elevator dings and Peter motions for you to go first before he follows. "You should take a shower," He proposes quietly.

It must have been some coincidence because right at that moment a shower is exactly what you crave. You nod at him, following him to the nearest bathroom. You try to peel your shirt off while Peter fetches you some towels but you have no luck.

"Do you need any help?" Usually, he would be asking this in a teasing manner but the words could not have left his lips any sweeter than they just did. His voice is quiet and calm, a little wavering but not so much as to cause concern. He's still shivering and dripping wet himself yet he stands there looking at you with such kindness.

You nod, "Please."

He shuffles to your side and slowly peels your shirt from your torso. He lifts it slowly, softly asking you to put up your arms. He gets a quick glimpse of your bones just barely being held behind your skin and bruises littering your torso. His face is close to yours as he pulls the shirt over your head and you can feel his breath. One more moment and he is pulling the shirt off of your arms. He gets a glimpse of the bruised injection sites on your arms and has to hold his expression. "There," He smiles, looking into your eyes.

"Thanks," You immediately cross your arms back over your chest, both from the cold and embarrassment. God, I probably look like shit. 

Peter hasn't seen you like this since high school gym class and even then it was rare to catch you without a shirt on. 

"I've got it from here," You tell him and he nods before closing the door.

Peter lets his mind wander to high school gym class. You hated it so much but Peter needed it. He had so much energy and he needed an outlet. That was of course before he had become Spider-Man and then he joined in on your hatred of the class though, he always did better than everyone there. 

He wanders into his room to change before grabbing a towel to dry his hair as his mind wanders to a  vivid memory of one of the only times he had seen you shirtless back in high school.

The class had gotten done swimming and everyone was out of the locker rooms, except Peter who had to do extra laps and had just gotten out of the pool. He dried his hair as he walked over to his locker but stopped in his tracks when his spidey sense started to go crazy. He looked in every direction but there wasn't anything he could see. A few more steps revealed you, sitting on one of the benches, your shirt laying in your lap and a towel wrapped around your waist. 

That did catch Peter off guard but there was another thing: you were crying. Peter's stomach twisted in knots as he looked down at you. Suddenly, your eyes were on him. Shit! Why hadn't he said something? Now, he just looks creepy!

"Peter?" You asked in a hushed tone. You had looked like you'd been crying for a while. Your whole face was red along with your eyes, you looked terrible.

"Y/n," He returned your tone. He took a few steps forward and bent down a bit. "Are you okay?" 

You shook your head. You were in no mood to avoid your feelings. You hurt and you hurt bad. "No," You answered bluntly.

Peter took a seat beside you. "What happened?"

The memory isn't the most pleasant but he remembers how after that you stayed at his apartment for three days and that seemed to have done you good. He wonders what happened to the Y/n he knew back then. He doesn't feel any differently toward you, not at all but what happened to you to make you so miserable now?

He finishes changing and drying himself off and steps out into the hall. At the same time, you step out of the bathroom. Peter meets your eyes and walks over. He looks you over and smiles, you have a towel tightly wrapped around your waist and a towel thrown over your head. "Here," He places his hands on top of the towel at your head and dries your hair. 

You stand there, heart beating wildly as Peter helps you dry off. You notice his change of shirt and before fully thinking about it, reach out with your hand to slip it under his shirt before rubbing your thumb over the top of the fabric. You're sure Peter already saw the marks littering your body and right now you just didn't care. You want to feel his shirt and that's all you want.

Peter stiffens as you have a hold of his shirt. Your fingers aren't touching his skin since you hold the shirt out a bit but they did for a brief moment and the tingles it sent up his spine are unlike anything he's felt before. He accidentally stops drying your hair but continues as soon as he realizes that he's stopped. He sets his eyes upon you and it's a good thing you can't see his face. Anyone could see right through him at this very moment and pinpoint where his thoughts are. 

He finishes drying your hair with the towel and slides it behind your head, letting the towel rest on the back of your neck. For a moment, he holds each end of the towel toward himself and he can't meet your eyes now. His head is down but he is looking at you. 

Your head is down but you're looking at him. Your eyes dart from your hand still holding his shirt to the pecs you can just make out underneath his shirt. This is a moment of safety, of home, of tenderness, of friendship, of love. There's a silent agreement between you two and so, for the time you separate. You go to your room to get dressed as Peter goes into the living to wait for you.

"It's cold, isn't it?" Peter asks as you settle on his large couch. You nod and Peter sets a blanket over you. "I've got some hot chocolate on the stove," He knows that's your favorite. "It should be done soon." 

I thought i had something that you

Were too scared to lose

You nod again, wrapping yourself in the blanket. "Thanks," You whisper.

He takes a seat next to you with his own blanket wrapped around his legs. He swings his legs so they rest on the couch and leans in, his shoulder touching yours. "What's on your mind?" 

He genuinely wants to know, what the hell? You let out a deep breath and lean your head against his shoulder. "I was just thinking about high school. We used to be so different. I used to be so different. What happened to me?" You turn your head and stare into his eyes.

You don't know either. "I-" He's at a loss for words. "Whatever happened," He pauses and places his hand over yours. "It's not all bad." He smiles at you before standing. "Hot chocolate's ready," He says before walking off to the kitchen. 

You start picking at your fingers again as you wonder what you're going to do. You can't rely on Peter for everything, that's just not how you are. You didn't even have any money after blowing what little you had on what you OD'ed on. God, why are you so stupid!? Peter's nice enough to let you crash at his place and what do you do?

"Hey," Peter's presence pulls you from your thoughts. "Here," He bends over as he hands you a cup of hot chocolate. He takes his seat next to you again, sitting a bit more straight this time so as to not spill his drink on you. "'Thinking about something?" 

You nod, "Yeah, just..." You bring your cup to your cheek and bask in the warmth. It's been too long since you've truly felt any warmth like Peter's been showing you this whole time. "I can't stay with you forever," You muse, flicking your eyes to his, unsure of what he might say.

Peter chuckles, "Well if you want to, you can." He flashes that boyish smile of his at you and it hurts. His eyes and nose crinkle and his features are so bright. "I said it before, Y/n. I'll do anything for you." 

God, that hurts. He cares about you too much. "Peter," You stop him in his tracks. He shouldn't be saying stuff like this. He needs to protect himself from you. "Don't say that." He's too attached, you can't let him be this attached.

Peter's soft expression turns puzzled and he turns to look at you. "Y/n?" He's looking at the side of your face while you keep your gaze straight ahead. "If it's about staying with me, I can get you your own place. I know-"

"Peter," Your voice is stern but tinted with softness as you cut him off. "I've got to do this stuff on my own."

"No," Peter protests immediately. 

"What?" You sit up straighter now, looking at him deadly serious.

"You don't have to do anything alone. If it were me, you would say the same! I won't let you be alone with this." He sets his drink down on the coffee table as he continues to speak passionately. "I love you, Y/n." It's a confession masked as a friendly gesture of affection. "You're my friend." This covers his tracks though he wishes he didn't have to cover them in the first place. "I'm going to take care of you." It's the truth and it's real and he means it.

You can only look at him in awe, utter awe. He's serious about this.

"I-" He starts out confident but falters. Should I really say this? He catches the thought and tosses it aside. His confidence is back, only a bit less than before. "I can't lose you."

Something in you wants to slap him. He can't lose you? What the fuck!? You hold yourself back, hands tightly gripping your cup. You hang on his every word. Just what is he thinking?

Peter sighs, looking down momentarily, shaking his head. "I don't want things to be like before. I want to see you and be around you; I want to know that you're okay. And I want you to be happy."

You swallow his words and let them digest. They don't sound bad, at all. But there's a knot in your stomach and a scribbly, black haziness in the back of your mind setting off alarms.

Peter leans in as he says, "There's nothing wrong with asking for help." He sits back again, "You don't even have to ask, I'll just do!" He reaches out for your free hand, "I'm here for you." He gives your hand a small squeeze. "Just let me be here for you." It's a plea and it's all he can do.

Peter's greatest fear is loss. He's lost so many people in his life already he surely doesn't need to lose another. But losing you isn't exactly his main concern, it's seeing you live up to what you've always wanted, it's letting you chase your dreams and catching them, it's waking up every day with some real purpose, it's seeing you change for the better. His concern is you. His concern is your life. His concern is your well-being. His concern is your happiness and fulfillment. His concern is your recovery. And his concern is your change. He's lost you once, he won't lose you again.

It was all in the past now, you had nothing to be scared of. The road ahead is fruitful with opportunity. Peter is by your side. You're recovering. You can handle this. You've got it.

So if we could just pretend that I went to college

And traveled abroad, and did something different

Things go well for weeks and weeks, it feels as though nothing bad has ever happened before. But something sets you off. You see something on the street and return to Peter's loft as you cry like a maniac. You feel foolish for breaking down like you are, crying as hard as you are, and being unable to move from Peter's living room floor as you are. And even worse, Peter comes home.

He's taking off his coat casually as he normally would until he hears your sobs, then he rushes to your side. He rests his hand on your back and leans in close to ask what's wrong. 

Your body refuses to let you answer and so, you just cry as he sits there before slowly pulling you closer and into his lap. He pets your hair and smooshes his cheek against your forehead as he quietly whispers. You two sit like this for about an hour before you finally calm down. 

You try to wipe your tears away as fast and as best you can as you quickly crawl out of Peter's grasp, sudden and overwhelming embarrassment coming over you. "Please," You beg with your head held down, trying your best to keep Peter from seeing your face. "Can we just forget this all happened?" You're bent over now almost like you're praying even with your hands clasped in front of your head as your eyes though closed are pointed toward the ground. "Pretend I'm not some massive loser that wasted his life when you- you were here doing great things and I was just-" You sigh loudly, your head finally collapsing against Peter's floor. "Please," You cry out as tears start flowing heavily and you can feel a sob start to rack through your body, "please."

Your head hangs, chin pressing against your chest. Your eyes feel hazy and you can't see much. Your back is pressed against the cool brick of the wall behind you that you can barely feel due to the thick sweater and bloated jacket that warms your torso. Your legs are out in front of you and you laugh at their strange longness. You look at your feet next, the shoes they're adorned in, and how they too look strange and funny to you. You start laughing more and more, finding everything oh-so-funny. 

Anything but just sitting at home

For three and a half years

Writing song, after song, after song

Your arms now look as if shooting targets were made out of Swiss cheese. The holes only seem to get larger and darker, like the darkness could swallow your body whole if you weren't careful. And you weren't. Your eyes had always been dark but now they were pits, black holes of nothingness, no knowledge held there, nothing, just nothing. Your face is sunken like the tar roads in the summer, always sinking deeper and deeper or like the deep trenches of the sea where something terrible lies. Your lips are chapped like the hands of the working man, skin always peeling off, and never able to be quite comfortable because they are raw and red and always rubbing against each other. You're as thin as a needle, legs barely able to function as you walk bone on bone, the grinding like that of teeth against teeth. Speaking of teeth, yours seem to keep falling out, leaving your mouth pouring blood flowing like the divine wine of Jesus.

Where was Jesus now? Not here to save you. Your Jesus, your divine savior, Peter Parker is far away now, not because he chose to be but because there is nothing else he could do, nowhere he could be, not for you. And you chose your new savior, it was not him. It used to sting your arm but it doesn't seem to do just that anymore. It helps you ascend but not as long as it used to. Your belief is starting to wane but not quick enough, not quick enough.

So what is it like to be by yourself

The elevator dings as Peter reaches his loft. He steps out with his coat hanging off his arm. The place is quiet, the only noise being made by Peter as he hangs up his coat and steps into his kitchen. He opens his cabinet, the grip on the little knob staying far longer than it needs to before he opens it and lets the knob go. He reaches up just like you had on your first night. He grips the bottle tightly and sets it on the counter, it makes a noise too, a sort of clinking sound almost. He grimaces as he grabs the neck of the bottle and opens it, the smell stings his nose as he brings it close. His lips kiss the bottle and he swallows some down. 

The bottle accompanies Peter to his large and lonely couch, his tight grip around its neck, carrying it carelessly. He takes out the DVD that you left, your favorite movie, he's careful with it as he sets it in the DVD player (something you had ragged on him for not having when you were first there). (Something that he hadn't used since, not until today). (Something he would probably never get rid of now, only being thrown out when he was dead). He stumbles back over to his couch, falling onto it not as clumsily as he could manage but enough to shake up the alcohol in him. He extends his arm, pointing the small remote that came with the thing at the television and pressing play. His arm falls against the couch as the remote leaves his fingers, finding a new home in the arms of the faithful couch.

He watches almost angrily, there isn't anything like it, this emotion Peter feels. Is it really anger? Contempt even? Surely, not toward you. But the drug, toward the drug. ...Right? Or was he even angry? Hateful maybe. Toward you, toward the drug, toward himself. What was this that he was feeling? It's like an ache with no name or possible description. Empty isn't the right word. He's not hollow inside, he's all filled up, some even splashing out of him but what is it? What is this substance, this feeling, this emotion, spilling out of Peter Benjamin Parker? What is this thing that spills past his lips and fills up his head? Is it... you...? Surely not, that's ridiculous!

Peter doesn't notice until now, too focused on the movie he's seen far too many times, but his hands are trembling. His knuckles are a soft red, his veins are all in place, those little clumps of blueish-skin-pigment below the reddened knuckles, his fingers long and intermittently pale the ends a bit darker than the rest, all shake in chorus. He flexes his fist, bending his fingers and splaying them out, then he checks again. They shake just as much as they first did. 

And not feel like you'll die around everyone else?

Your hands were shaking, that was the first thing you noticed. It's almost exhilarating, they shook like they did when you first shot up. It was heaven. This was cloud nine. You were in paradise, lost in it. Your head was delirious, your eyes were bleary, your lips trembled as much as your hands, you were about to lose it all and all you could think about was how great this high was. You were about to die outside a house, just on the steps, of a den of drugs, a place filled with people dying just like you were about to, and all you could think about was how great this high was. 

Quickly, your thoughts shift to how awful this was. Your body lost control. You fell. Your head split against the concrete of the makeshift porch. Your back fell into the stairs that sat on either side were two dying drug addicts. Foam spilled past your lips and for a brief moment you thought of Peter then you were back to focusing on dying. You couldn't control your body. Your eyes would not work with you to see. They were gone now, they no longer wished to see the world. Your hands wouldn't do what you told them to. Your ears were ringing, there was so much noise, noise, noise! Why couldn't there be quiet!? Everything just needed to stop for a second, so that you could get a grip on things. You would set things straight. You wouldn't be found in places like this anymore. You would die somewhere resectable. But death doesn't care about respect, for him, there is no respectable place to die, and you are just another soul to be collected. Indifference is his gift but the indifference of the junkies you died next to led to searching through your pockets and hands all over your body and privacy violated and nothing left on you but the things they didn't care for. Your ID, some crumpled note you'd shoved deep into your pocket, a few too many wrappers for too many different things, and something else.

I thought I was one in a million

The distant clattering of silverware and private conversations set the stage as Peter sits across from a fine, young gentleman. He holds a menu in front of himself, his hair slicked back something you had told him made him look handsome you had said, his feet nervously sliding back and forth. Words come out of the gentleman's mouth and everything starts to fade out like watching a movie as your eyes blink more and more before you fall asleep.

It didn't go well whatever that was. A date, Peter supposes, an awful date. 

Peter holds a large bouquet of red roses. The dark red is contrasted by the white plastic that wraps around them. He holds them with both hands. He shifts his shoulders uncomfortably, his lips moving awkwardly against each other. His stride isn't really a stride, rather a walk but a quick one, like he has somewhere to be. A date perhaps? 

Well, thanks for nothing

Peter's stride leads him into a cemetery. He passes headstone after headstone, a few full-on statutes, and some grave markers. The roses are strange in his hands in this cemetery. He shifts his grip on them a few times. His collar feels like it's choking him and sticking his finger under it hasn't done anything. His thoughts don't consume him this time like they usually seem to do; some are seething, others are sad, most are guilty, and a lot are what-ifs. Never helpful, those what-ifs. Peter accidentally passes your grave before stepping back.

He reads the engraving as he always does before taking careful steps over. He sits above your dead body (that's buried several feet down), in front of your headstone (that stares back at him like a gargoyle), and underneath a weeping willow (that he wished he could see you under, not like this, not like this). "Well," Peter starts, setting down the roses, "he was allergic to roses." He sighs. "I miss you." He leans over, resting a hand on top of your headstone and closing his eyes.

He talks some more and if anyone were watching him, they might think he was having quite the conversation with a headstone. He moves his hands and looks at the headstone like a person, making eye contact with it, maybe even willing it to respond. It never does. And it never has. It's too bad you didn't have a spirit, you might have sat underneath that willow, leaning back against it, and watching Peter just for something to do. But you were dead and that was that. There was no coming back from being dead. Your body was buried beneath the earth and now you belonged to her. 

Peter groans as he gets to his feet, "Well, buddy," He rests his hand on your headstone, patting it almost like you would a dog, "I've got to get going. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" He pauses, not intentionally but he lets the silence hang in the air in hopes he might get a response. He never gets a response. There is no satisfaction or catharsis for him, only the silence of the whistling wind and the whipping of the willows as they reach as far off their branches as they can. Maybe if he hoped hard enough, one day he would get that long-awaited response and you wouldn't have died for nothing.

Peter's lids are heavy as he tries to blink away sleep. This never works just like all those other things. He always falls asleep; you never answer him. He just wishes you would answer him. Peter's eyes close rather quickly this time and nothing matters but the dream he can feel is real and he feels apart of it.

Thank you

Thank you

Peter's hand reaches out as you fall, your fingers graze his. He can see the desperate look in your eyes like a dog begging for its life. Your eyes are not only desperate but terrified too. (Like a dog that knows it's going to be put down, he thinks). Some noise comes from you, some words but his ears can't decipher them, like everything in his dreams they are distant, blurry, and unmemorable. He just wants to know what you're screaming. He can see the extension of your jaw, the crinkling and wrinkling in your face, and the raise of your brows but he still can't hear what it is you're saying.

Then the scenery shifts. You slipping past his fingers is no big deal as you fall onto a hospital bed. You look at him all tired like and puppy dog kicked. You are worn out and bruised like a dropped fruit or a childhood blanket. You look like you might be molding. Your face is sunken in, your eyes hauntingly dark and blank, the flesh of your nose beginning to rot away, and the plush of your lips gone now replaced by the hard, cold warning of your teeth. You're missing a few and your gums are starting to turn yellow. Peter can't save you. He can't do anything. He watches as you rot. He tries to leave the chair he's stuck in but he can't, his arms won't even lift off the sides. He can't get to you. You're so far away.

Before your body can fully decompose and shift into sand and fly away in the wind, again, the scenery changes. Paris. He can really only recognize it by the Eiffel Tower. You had talked about it before. A lot. Before you left. Before what happened, happened to you. Peter wanted to go there with you. He never got the chance. At least you had seen it yourself. He finds it strange that he stands in Paris but he can't see you ...like you're gone. But then everyone is screaming and there from the clouds falls a body. Your body is falling, your arms are spread out, and you're limp like a fish. In seconds, your back is pierced by the spire of the Eiffel Tower. Killed by the very thing you love. Or loved. Or did you even love it all? Did you just talk about it? 

There is no time for Peter to process seeing someone he loves getting killed right in front of him. He's in an alley now like the one you died in. There are homeless people and drug addicts, drug dealers, and you. You stand there like an angel with your skin glistening thanks to the sun and despite the grime in the air. Peter can't take his eyes off of you. He doesn't want to anyway. He needs to see you like this, happy and aware and bright-eyed and in good standing with life. He can't bear the reality of flesh and bone and blood and six feet underground. It's always been a flaw of his. Feeling those that are dead are not really, not really. They still linger, he feels them, he can't see or hear them but he knows them. He can feel the brush of fingers against his back or the jostle of his loose curl. They live within him, just outside of him, in his fingers and feet and the way his eyes move follows them though he can't really see them there.

A blood-curdling crack stops everything. In a moment, you're lying on the ground with blood running from your forehead down past your chin and drip-dropping against your neck. And Peter is down on his knees in front of you, holding your torso, pulling it up onto his lap, and he holds your head like a kid holds a teddy bear. He strokes your hair as you gurgle up blood. He can't do anything for you. He's stuck. He's not allowed to save you. He is not allowed to save you. You did not need saving. He didn't know what you needed and neither did you. With your head in his arms and his nose pressed against the line of blood down your forehead and your limp body against his thighs, he rocks back and forth, whispering things he doesn't know and you can't hear. You'll be okay. I've got you. I won't leave you. You can't leave me. You will live through this. And your dead, limp body is not motivated to live.

And there you lie, next to him in his bed, your head turned toward him, and you're smiling. The sun shines on both of you; Peter can feel it on his skin. Like being kissed by a god. Like being kissed by you. He's a cat in a sunspot and you're stretching out toward him. Your fingers brush against his cheeks and you're smiling at him. He fills your vision; Peter can see his reflection in your big, beautiful eyes. He wants to kiss you and you move closer. Your eyes stay on him the whole time, if it weren't so beautiful, it'd be unnerving. 

You're on top of him now. Your hands -fingers and palms- caress his chest, trace his collarbone, feather down his ribs to his hips. He shudders under your touch. He wants it again. He wants it real. He doesn't realize it isn't yet. On all fours, over Peter's body, you lean down and kiss him. It holds, lasting long enough for him to hold your cheek and to satisfy him if for a fleeting moment. You pull back, your eyes staring into his; he's in love. (You're not real). Your hands trail down his chest again as you sit on top of him. You're just looking at him.

And when Peter turns, now awake, he's alone; you're not there by his side. He reaches out across the sheets like you would reach out if you could. Poor Peter, he doesn't know. 

#murder writes #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x m reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x m!reader #peter parker you make me sad

[clarks-letterman]

lost in reality | perv!peter parker x gender-neutral!reader

a/n — this is not what i usually post! there was going to be more smut but i didn't know how far to go with it, so if anyone wants to see something more extended, let me know! (Peter is a bit of a perv in this but i tried to make him get his comeuppance) gender-neutral, i think

warnings — smut! 18+, some brief facefucking, gore (sorta mild, but don't read if you don't like it!)

summary — Peter uses the reality stone to practice his pickup skills. With such a powerful device at his disposal, what could go wrong?

words — 3.7k

~~~

A mesh of red and blue ambled to the quarters of the Avenger's compound. No rush nor worry affected Peter as he kept one foot light over the other, heading into each step, furthering him down the hallway. It was another neighborhood saved and another day where he would be free from the thoughts of letting his powers go to waste, and his life could finally regress into normalcy for the start of the new day. While he had a kick in his step from how smoothly the night had gone—and how much his mentor acknowledged the fact—Peter felt the need for something a little more caffeinated to help him instead.

As Peter returned from his latest venture, taking no rush to get to his room, you were on your way out of the resident android's room. In your hand, a pad of Stark Industries-branded notepad paper with all but one of the Avengers' coffee orders scribbled down filled it. You would not be in Vision's room with the question of coffee being the reason, something he was physically incapable of drinking, but Wanda frequented the room, and it was likely that she was in there. You were right to assume that, and now, you planned to check the door just further down the hall to see if Peter was around.

It turned out that you did not need to go far; the bright colors of his suit caught your eye the second you stepped out into the corridor. Anything resembling Peter's mood of being on top of the world was gone, and so was that little kick that pushed him further—you could almost see him lose it in his eyes once he saw you, even from afar. You approached him with one thing on your mind, the pen and paper used to record everyone's order at the ready.

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

There was an awkward silence between the following words until you reminded him by tapping your pen to the side of the notepad to draw his attention to it and speaking up, "Your order?"

"What?" He was already blowing it. Peter glanced down to his red-spandex feet and then back to you, his voice returning to its natural pitch, "Oh, yeah, uh—"

Peter paused. He realized he did not know what he wanted, and while you found the evident attempt to appear cool somewhat endearing, you could have already been heading out to get coffee for everyone by now. Almost by reflex, you started to tap the pen against the nearly completed list of coffee orders ranging from simple menu items to oddly specific modifications to non-existent drinks. And in seconds, the pen slipped from your grasp and unceremoniously landed on the laminate of the hallway floor.

"Shit," you reached down to grab the ballpoint, but Peter stopped you.

"I'll get it."

He attempted to bend over, only to find his hand stuck to the wall. Peter quickly stood straight, subtly tugging his hand away from the wall without tearing a new hand-shaped hole in the plaster and paint. In his panic, Peter's hand stuck itself to the wall, and no matter how hard he tried to pull away from it, his hand wouldn't budge. That left you to get the dropped pen, reaching for it without the trouble of spider-centric powers messing with you.

You looked to Peter, scribbling down his name next to Tony's order, "I'll just get you what Tony gets and leave you alone with your hand. See you later, Peter."

With that, Peter was left alone and sufficiently embarrassed as you strode down the hall, and, finally, his hand let him free once you were gone. He scuttled to his room in a bout of shame and locked the door, heading to his mirror with a plan to practice asking you out. It was a simple mirror resting on the opposite side of the wall that had betrayed him, even if it was an inanimate object that could neither sway nor influence his spider abilities. He planned on using the reflective rectangular sheet as a stand-in for you but decided to change himself into something that didn't remind him of the awkward encounter he had moments ago.

Now, he stared at himself in the length of the full-body mirror, dressed in a tee sporting Midtown's gold and navy-blue colors and a simple pair of beige cargo pants. It was more on your level, casual clothes that were unlike the striking symbolism of his superhero suit. Peter hoped it would make him feel more comfortable talking to you, as he wouldn't discern the need to be perfect in everything he does around you. He could be Peter.

The first words he spoke to himself in the mirror were natural, not meant to sound broody or cool. It was how he usually talked: voice cracks and diffidence-galore, "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to swing me to get coffee with you?"

Peter realized his slip-up and started the question over again.

"Oh my God, that's so funny that you get coffee!" He placed a hand over his chest with a fake smile to match, "I love caffeine and wanted to know if you would drink me. I mean, drink it with me?"

“Hey, I was just in the neighborhood—saving it, and all. Coffee, you-me? Then, we could come back here for. . .” He paused, knowing that he could never be that smug with you—he could barely get his powers to work! How would the Parker-Charm not blow up on ignition? “Okay, dial it back, Pete.”

"I'm hopeless," Peter let his head fall, staring at the floor. He could hardly watch himself fumble in the mirror, but the glint of a red sheen in the mirror pulled him back—the reality stone, sitting on one of the few bookshelves resting against the walls of his room. This one housed various meticulously assembled Star Wars-themed Lego sets, and the stone quickly became an amenity on the set of Boba Fett's Starship. Could he use it for this, of all things? If he did use it, it would only be for a couple of minutes. For practice, he told himself.

Many people would probably ask why a teenager would have one of the most mighty pieces of rock sitting on a shelf in his bedroom, and well, Peter wouldn't know the answer himself as to why he was allowed to keep it. According to Tony, he was a good kid, and the rest of the team knew he wouldn't use it for anything malicious, like obliterating half of all human existence. So, it was a souvenir, a relic that Peter never utilized for anything apart from letting it be some seriously cool decor and a piece he constantly bragged about to his only two friends.

He turned away from the mirror, retrieved the stone from its entrapment in the plastic bricks, and returned to his full-length reflection. The jagged edges dug into the soft inside of his palm in retaliation to the pressure as he squeezed it with a closed fist. With a single thought—one that held details of nearly everything about you—a soft ring of smoke formed a couple of feet away from him on the carpet. His heart thrummed as it quickly moved upward, revealing your form as it went. After a few moments, the puff of smoke faded as it rounded your head, topping off the manifested version of yourself.

Nothing could compare to the real you, but this was close.

The imagined version of you standing before Peter looked like the spitting image of you, almost to the point where, if dressed the same, it would be impossible to tell the two of you apart. Almost. But, there was one thing that let Peter tell the visually deceitful version of you apart from the real one: he couldn't hear a heartbeat. He figured that, while you looked the same on the outside, the inside was missing a few vital features of the real you.

Regardless, Peter struggled to remember that information since your lesser interpretation was still stunning enough to make his heart sink into the never-ending pit in his stomach. His feelings got the better of him, and Peter started his practice in err from the moment he opened his mouth.

He held the stone tight, waving his other hand to you, "Hey—hi, do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, you're Peter." You stated it as if he should have known that already, and he noted it. From what he could tell, you had at least some part of the memory of your actual self, so maybe this version of you could provide an accurate reaction to asking you to get coffee with him.

"Okay, cool. Cool. Yeah, that's. . . cool," Peter trailed.

"Why do you keep saying cool?"

The only problem was that you were real. Unduly real. Down to the slightest mannerisms that anyone but Peter would be able to catch when they spent time with you, and with your stunning looks and perfect quirks brought about by the stone, Peter could remember everything about you. He could hardly hear the absence of your heartbeat from his' sonority, ultimately distracting himself from his original intent.

"So, what did you wanna ask me?"

"You. . . you ask a lot of questions. But, I wanted to know if you could—"

Peter was finally going to get the words out, albeit to someone who was only pretending to be you. He wouldn't have to worry about finishing that project he procrastinated on—this would be his big success of the day. But his web-shooter had gone off erroneously across the room, spraying against the walls and pouring onto the floor from its canister. He jumped away from the source and nearly dropped the stone in the process.

Peter's mind was fleeting, even his rehearsal was going wrong, and he immediately thought of an old trick for speaking to people that he hadn't needed since a young age—he imagined you in your underwear. He didn't mean for it to happen, but if he thought it, the stone made it a reality for as long as he held the little rock. He watched as a red puff of smoke took your clothes into the air, vanishing from your body in less than a second. Underneath, a simple pair of boxer briefs clung to your nether region. Maybe it wasn’t all about the practice to Peter. His mind had thought of this, so it couldn't be that bad to indulge in it.

"Could you come over here?" He asked, throat dry. He needed to feel you to confirm he had not gone completely insane from one too many hits on the head. Peter defeatedly took a few steps to his bed, sitting down on the edge of it. "Please?"

His heart pounded with each step you took, accepting his wish to draw near. Peter could not help but watch your vulnerability follow ostensibly close behind. In just one beat, you stood directly in front of him. He watched your knees rise and fall on either side of his legs as you sat on his thighs. Peter felt the warmth of your presence, the surprising weight of you on his hairless and sinewy thighs, even if you were empty inside.

Peter was bristling, brown eyes wandering over your exposed form. His body felt immovable, no matter how much he wished to drop the stone and watch you vanish. His head was the only thing not to freeze, the rest of his body turning into a well-sculpted monolith. His jaw moved with a bit of tension, "I didn't ask you to do it like this."

"No, but you thought it."

"How did you. . . ?"

"You thought that, too."

Peter realized that he was practically having a conversation with himself, just through the guise of your face. The details became more apparent; the color of your eyes, the set of your mouth, and the same smile lines appeared as he thought about its utter perfection. He connected that now, asking you to come closer only worsened his issue. Your presence over his prominent bulge made it push the limits of its cotton confines. Slowly, his marble arm broke from his reserved mold, and an empty hand cupped your cheek the same way he had always thought about doing it. He would use both, but one was occupied with creating his living dream. Then his hand slid away and around to the back of your neck, your hair brushing his chewed fingernails and overly scraped knuckles.

He knew that guiding you into the kiss was redundant as he could think about it, but this was far more passionate. As he brought you close, the thought of your smell and the feeling of hot breath joining in concordant timing against each other's skin started to fill his head. At the touch of your lips to his, Peter kissed like someone who had nothing to lose. Like he didn't have the responsibility of seeming to have it all together placed foremost. Like he could be a needy and desperate mess for more than a passing swing around New York. Only now, and only because of you.

His impetuous thinking decided that taking care of his problem now would mean that he could resolve everything else later. He needed to take care of it now; it was the only thought running through his head. Desire.

Breaking away, Peter silently commanded you to slide off your boxers and get on your knees. He caught a glimpse of you as you followed his direction, surprised by how his mind subconsciously filled in the gaps for everything he had never seen.

Your hands worked in a way that left their presence unknown until they were hooked into the band of his boxers, easily tugging down on the well-worn stitching to free Peter's springy dick. He watched your eyes ogle it and how you took it into your hand without a second thought, and while he filled your hand well, he couldn't help but think about his inadequacy. He had seen his teammates' sizes after sharing training sessions with them. Not that he was looking on purpose, but mostly out of insecurity. Peter already paled in comparison to the heights and builds of the others, and while he was far from small, they didn't make him look all that great. Peter started to wonder if the stone affected him in the same way it did you.

With a single thought, he decided to test it. He watched his shaft grow bigger and chub up with a thicker girth. Your hand could barely wrap around it as it had with his true size. It felt like an innocuous veneer to gaining the confidence that he never had. As a result, he was eager to get you on him and make you squirm like one of the criminals he spun webs around.

In seconds, your lips formed an imperfect circle and took the head of the arachnid, and the rest of him, as if it were nothing. Your lips brushed his decent smattering of hair around the base of his cock without convulsion. This version of you had a throat that fit around him like a cock-sleeve, hugging his girth without any of the need for restraint.

"No gag reflex? This is better than any toy I ever made."

Peter's hands found their way back to the rear of your head, controlling the pace at which you took him for his own pleasure. The sheer feeling of something far better than lubed-up rubber made him go wild.

At a certain point, he couldn't remember when his mind started to break reality further than he thought until he was suddenly yanked back to it. Peter started to feel effervescent guilt towards his actions. This is what he wanted, but not how he wanted to get it. Quickly, Peter felt the heavy weight on his chest return, the need to right himself by putting an end to this. He hated that he changed himself to impress something that wasn't even you. He wondered what his mentor would think, what you would think, or how you would react. A small shift inside him sent that weight toward his hand, the one he held the stone in, and it went from its dormant glim keeping the illusion alive to a bright shine, creating something new.

"Get off, get off, please," Peter asked, thinking the words in his head as hard as he could to free himself from his twisted fantasy. You let his stiff, unrelieved dick pop out of your mouth and got off your knees.

"What's wrong, Peter?" He had thought that, too. What was wrong with him?

He could barely stand to face you, but he needed to acknowledge you to make you leave. When he did work up the nerve to look in your direction, the guilt glared back at him. He felt like a creepy monster for even thinking it was a good idea to give in to his urges. The feeling overtook him so much that he didn't even realize your gradual change.

At first, it was your face. The pleasureful expression turned into a sour one, eyebrows funneling together and your upper lip upturned. But, the features of your face pressed forward as if they were made of putty and someone was trying to claw their way out. They stretched out and ballooned until they burst, leaving you headless. Your body went without a head for a few seconds before the more seasoned details of his mentor formed in your absence.

He kept his hand flat, wicking it away from his body and the rest of his arm with the hope that the stone would fall off, but his powers had already made that choice for him. Then, he thought of his suit, his web-shooters, and the communicator that could signal Tony. If he drew attention to the issue, it would resolve itself, but could he successfully explain everything as if it were the typical morning paper arriving at the doorstep? He could try, or at the very least, lie. But that would never solve this issue, though, not in the long run.

Peter formed a mental map of the fastest route to his closet in his head and decided that his backup web-shooters might be strong enough to hold the illusion down and give him time to pry the stone from his nonreciprocating palm. He turned, locking eyes with the monster as it started changing again.

Peter looked on in horror, the stone shining its brightest and shading the monster in terrifying red like a stop sign you see at the last minute when your heart sinks at the thought of being crushed. The soft tear of wet, stretching flesh and its stringy reformation flushed his ears as the beast before him grew. The harsh snap and sound of bones splintering from the fattening weight pierced his sensitive ears; nothing new to him at this point in his life, but he had never heard so many cracks and gushing wounds. Yet, through all the bodily changes, Peter never broke his stare with the amalgamation of his worst thoughts. Its eyes never left him, either. The cold and frighteningly dead stare of non-existent emotion didn't phase him until he heard a heartbeat, one that he believed came from the creature itself.

However, it wasn't the monster's—it was yours, heavy-thudded blood-pumping. The real you and your usually pleasant voice calling for his response. From the other side of the door, he heard you pleading for him to answer and affirm that he was okay. He figured that you must have overheard his distress and the ensuing raucous.

Peter reached for the stone but stopped. Everything was gone. His suit still sat in a messy pile on the floor, but the webbing was gone from the walls. The stain on the carpet was no longer there, and his pants were the only thing absent from his body, but nothing left the confines of his boxers. Had all of it really been in his head?

He quickly answered the door without any precaution, seeing your face still intact.

"Hey, I got you something different than Tony's. I was in line and remembered when you drank out of his cup by mistake and spat it all over the counter. Are you okay? I thought I heard a girl screaming."

“Thank you, and it wasn't a. . . never mind. Do you want to come in and hang?”

“Yeah! But get some pants on first, Spidey. I can't have my thoughts get to me.”

#dark fic #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman x gn!reader #spiderman x male reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x gn reader #peter parker x gender neutral!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x male reader #tom holland x gender neutral reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark!tom holland #perv!peter parker

[iliumheightnights]

Injured | Peter Parker x Stark!Son reader

Fandom: Marvel, MCU, Spiderman Pairing: Peter Parker x Male!reader (Stark son) Summary: Peter and M/n have had their issues since they've first met. But will that change after Peter gets seriously injured during a mission? ...

(M/n) had just finished the book he was reading and went to grab a snack when the quinjet landed on the landing pad. “Oh dad’s back with boy wonder.” What could he say? He was jealous that Peter got to spend so much time with Tony now. That he got to go on missions with them while he stayed confined to the tower. It was almost like he was his son instead. He didn’t like that feeling at all.

The boy’s feelings of jealousy would have to be put on hold however. He watched as the Avengers ran down the ramp carrying Peter on a stretcher. From where he was standing Peter didn’t look good….not at all. 

The Avengers burst through the doors with Peter and rushed him down the hall. “Someone get Doctor Cho now!” Steve shouted. ‘She’s already been called sir.’ Friday’s voice spoke up. (M/n) rushed behind them. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He tried to ask literally anyone but they all ignored him and they rushed Peter to the medical wing.

(M/n) followed them all the way to the medical wing but stopped just short of the room they put Peter in. Only Tony and the Doctor were allowed in. That was fair, this wasn’t something (M/n) HAD to be there for. He could respect that enough to realize everyone needed SOME privacy in this tower.

“So…what happened?” (M/n) asked looking at the closed doors. Nat stood beside him and sighed. “It was a standard mission. Just take out a hidden hydra base. We thought it’d be easy…then Taskmaster showed up.” (M/n) listened to every word she said. “Peter saved us but in the process, he got badly injured. I just hope he’ll be alright.” She said. He could hear just how torn up she was about this. After all…the entire team loved Peter.

The door opened and Tony walked out. He didn’t have a look of relief but he also didn’t look destroyed so that was something. “How is he?” Nat asked. Tony sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Nothing yet. His vitals are stabilizing, but we’re still not sure yet. Doc’s trying her best but some of the cuts were deep.” Natasha nodded and soon both of them walked away leaving (M/n) in front of the door.

After a little while the door opened and the doctor walked out. “Oh. (M/n), I didn’t know you were out here.” (M/n) shrugged. “Didn’t make myself known.” Helen nodded. “He’s stable now and there are signs of recovery. I was just about to tell your father and the others. You’re welcome to go in and see him though he’s still sleeping.” The boy nodded. “Thanks doc.” Once she left (M/n) entered the room.

He hated the medical wing. It always reminded him of when he needed to get shots or when his dad had to go through his many surgeries. It always scared him. The clean sterile white walls and smell of everything didn’t help either. Not to mention the beeping of the monitors, which luckily were stable.

There in the bed was Peter. (M/n) looked him over. His face had a few cuts, a black eye was developing and he for sure looked worse for wear. “Well…don’t get cleaned up for me or anything. You look like shit.” (M/n) shot up to Peter who was still asleep. A small chuckle escaped as well, however, there was no humor in it.

“You know since you’re asleep I can finally tell you what I want.” (M/n) stepped closer to the bed. “I absolutely hate you. I despise you.” He felt as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders with those words gone. “I hate how you came into my life and stole my dad from me. I hate how you seem to be so good and perfect at everything and it points out my flaws. I hate how even after I’m rude to you…you still treat me like a good person.” He breathed in to say his final thoughts. He could feel himself shake. “But most importantly…I hate how you made me care. I hate that I’m worried for you. I hate that you made me fall for you.” He felt the tears falling from his face. “So you’re GOING to get up and get better. Because now I have to get payback for all these conflicting emotions you’ve given me.”

(M/n) swiped away the tears from his face and finished up the last few sniffles he had before going to stand up. But as he went to go he felt Peter’s hand reach out and grab his, the boy's thumb rubbing against his knuckles. “Don’t go.” the other boy said, his voice faint and quiet…but there. The Stark boy froze and looked at Peter before eventually smiling. “Really? Normally you can’t wait for me to leave. Are you just such a masochist you enjoy me yelling at you?” This time there was humor behind the words and (M/n) returned to his seat. “Because I don’t mind yelling at you more. I’m sure there are lots I can say about this whole situation.” Peter let out a small laugh at that.

Everything was going to be fine. Who knows…perhaps things were going to be even better than what they were before. Either way Tony and (M/n) were going to give Peter a stern talking to when he was better and work on giving him more protection.

#marvel #mcu #spiderman #peter parker #x male reader #x male!reader #x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader

[rowniebow]

and they were roommates | peter parker x male!reader | 7/7

summary: closure.

pairings: tasm!peter parker x male!reader

cw: fluff :D

word count: 1.3k+

an: thank you for reading and all the support :') i appreciate all of you! u inspire me to be a better writer!

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you had not seen peter since that night.

it has been five days and eighteen hours.

if anyone asked him, he'd say he'd regretted his actions. terribly so.

but no one knew. no one asked.

and if he had kissed anyone else, you'd have been the one to know. he would have ran straight to you to tell of the whole situation.

but he kissed you.

his best friend.

and now he didn't feel like he had a best friend.

now, it's not as if you ran away. no, you just avoided him to the point of changing your entire schedule.

you left an hour earlier and sat in your classroom in the dark, wondering what to do.

you came home late at night when you knew he'd be out participating in his nightly endeavors, going to a café to grade (or just hiding in your classroom still, it's your comfort place other than your shitty apartment with the man at home that you were avoiding).

you always made sure to be home before he got back from his activities, though. just in case he needed help.

but it's the weekend again.

and quite honestly, you miss him.

⭒⭒

you stumbled in your apartment, hands full of mail and paperwork you needed to do, as per usual.

an extravagant sigh that turned into a groan leaked from your throat as your stomach rumbled but the will to cook struggled to present itself.

peter watched you bump against the counter and curse yourself from the couch. his knees bounced with the debate of whether he should make himself known like he originally intended or not.

he was well aware of how you snuck around when you assumed him to be asleep and out of the house.

he woke at four in the morning every day the last week while you got ready for work and listened to you shuffle around.

guilt swelled in him when you jumped with a start after noticing him. staring at you from across the room.

"jesus, peter," your hand sat on top of your chest, willing for it to calm your heart.

"sorry,"

"what are you doing here?"

peter willed himself to smile, "not happy to see me?" the pain in his eyes and brow didn't pass the confidence act, though.

you chose to ignore his comment. mixed feelings were brought out from his presence. a lot of feelings you didn't want to admit you had.

instead you looked down at the sad eggs you had gotten out in your hand, "do you want anything to eat?"

your voice was quiet, shyer than he'd ever heard it. he seemed to be pulled further into the pit of guilt.

he made you quiet and shy around him, he thought. he did that. he ruined it.

"no, that's okay, thank you,"

the clattering of you pulling out pans was painful in the silence. it refused to let him form the words he had been going over all night.

peter would never tell you but he had been sitting there for two hours waiting for you to get home. just searching for the right words.

in that moment, words escaped him. the perfectly crafted sentence he had built fell apart on the ground like dominoes.

"w-we-," he choked when your eyes snapped to him. "we never finished twenty questions."

"no," you nearly whispered after another stabbing moment of silence. "i guess we didn't."

"it's your turn, if you want." peter tried to swallow, feeling more like a bread ball with nails hammered in from every angle was falling down his throat than saliva.

"i think i'll skip my turn,"

peter hated the formalities that were present between you two. "alright," he just wanted it all to go back to normal.

peter considered the way you hadn't used the eggs you pulled out at all. instead you were just eyeing them up and down while you listened to him.

"did you want to kiss me?" the words strangled the air, but you immediately looked up at him.

"yes. i said yes." you practically whispered, hesitantly.

peter found your eyes, and the sincerity in them lifted the suffocation he had been feeling the last week.

"why did you kiss me?"

"i-," peter was almost baffled by the question. he thought it was quite obvious.

although, your innocent ignorance to the emotions of people was something he understood very well about you. he could recall stories of your childish confusion easily.

"i like you," he couldn't hear your shaken sigh of relief over the sound of his pounding heart in his chest. "a lot."

your heart was beating just as fast as his, if not faster. but by the looks of you, peter would think you're almost disinterested in the conversation.

what he couldn't see in the dark, hardly lit, tiny, kitchen-living room combination, was your worried brows and your lip nearly bleeding from the biting. he couldn't see the way your jaw shook every few seconds and the tears that threatened your eyes.

you didn't handle stress well.

"do you regret it?" peter nearly blurted out.

"no!" your head shook, your brain banged against the sides of your skull with every movement. "no, no, not at all. d-do you?"

"no!" peter replied with similar enthusiasm. he hastily stood from the couch and stumbled his way into the kitchen before you.

he opened his mouth to speak, you assumed to take his turn in the game.

you, however, were just about done with the game.

"i like you, too," you interrupted. his agape mouth fell closed with a click of his teeth. his wide eyes glimmered a reflection of the city lights. "a lot."

"oh, that's-,"

"i-i, uhm. it's been a while for me, though,"

"me too," a smile pulled at peter's lips.

you're just always so cute, even when you rambled your worries like this. his posture dropped to slouch against the counter, gazing at your twitching fingers.

the comfort of being around you - being in his own skin - seeped back and leaked through his veins.

"right," you muttered, recollecting the stories he's told you from years ago. "i don't really know how to do this,"

"i don't either. we don't gotta know, though. we can do it our own way."

"okay," a sigh of relief left your lips. peter smiled brightly at you.

your sight spun looking at his smile. you wanted to rub it right off of his face.

he stepped towards you slowly, once again leaving room for you to escape if you wanted.

you very much didn't, though.

no, you stood waiting for him. practically inviting him in.

he arrived to his spot in front of you, merely an inch or two away. his hand slowly raised, hesitantly landing on your cheek.

the fridge over his shoulder proved to be more calming than him in that very moment. he watched your eyes and how they refused to meet his.

his smile only grew wider, though. at the thought of making you nervous in (hopefully) the good way.

"can i-," his whispers floated through the air to you.

they traveled along the hills and lakes of your skin.

they traveled through the forest of your hair.

they traveled towards the canyons of your ears.

and submerged themselves in the sea of your brain.

they swirled in that ocean and pushed and shoved at something that forced you to move before he could finish.

and your lips were on his once more. your eyes squeezed so tight that tears practically leaked through them, his words leaking out with them.

peter, baffled by you like always, breathed you in like a summer's night.

he was engulfed by you, whether you knew it or not. you absorbed him all of the time. you chewed him constantly and spit him out, only to chew him up again.

you were constantly abducting him with your eyes. you brought him in to your ship and ran tests on him. you dissected every fiber - every molecule - and put him back together again, better than before.

you healed him from the inside out.

you drove him to be better for you and for himself.

you inspired him to care again.

to be again.

you were his roommate, and he was yours, but now, you are something much more.

⭒ taglist ⭒

@armand0alg0 @cryinked @djmalik52 @fadedver @garlicforthewin @pinky-parker @softboi14 @1ischai

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[malereader-inserts]

Broken String

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Peter Parker x Male!Reader Summary: Bitterness, it can ruin anyone. Word Count: 786

The red string of fate.

It makes people go insane, people depend on their lives on it. That doesn't mean it was accurate, you've met couples who claim to be fated together and who were miserable with each other. But, half of you hope that whoever the fates have paired you with, you have a happy relationship and the other half of you want to not believe in this whole fate thing.

Screw the fates and find someone with the same idea.

But, then, you look over to Peter and your heart sinks a bit.

The red string means romantic relationship, but you look down at your finger and see a blue string, knowing that your relationship is no further than platonic, it breaks your heart.

Peter is a good guy, you know that, and you wondered if fate was cruel for having him in your life, perhaps you wished he was never part of your life.

Sure, you hoped Peter had the same idea to screw the fates and go off in a different direction, you've seen many stories of how many platonic relationships become a romantic relationship, how their blue string turned purple, mixing with the original red colour of the string.

But, you know who Peter's forever.

And it isn't you.

"You know," Peter hummed as you turn to look at him, "Thanks for being here."

Peter's life hasn't been the best, he lost so many and found loads. Doctor Strange had made loopholes in Peter's last requests, unknown to the boy in the first few weeks, but Peter wasn't completely alone anymore.

Sure, he lost Aunt May, but he can come home to see Tony and his family, who had accepted him as their own. He lost MJ and Ned, but he had his other best friend welcoming him into his home, that was you. Some people remember him, others don't. As it should be.

"Why?"

"You've been a constant for me," Peter speaks, softly and carefully, "Whilst being a superhero, you came to help me out when I was starting off as a superhero. You have never left my side since we were kids even when your attention was somewhere else when we were younger."

You chuckled, looking out to the city of New York, your legs dangling off the edge with Peter by your side.

"If my life was anything like the other Peter's, I think I know who my red string is attached to."

You nodded, and though you hid your bitter expression, you sighed. All you can do is to be by his side, that his happiness will always come before yours - and whilst, at the moment you continue to be bitter, you know eventually, you will be content, knowing that you will be in his life. That would be enough for you.

Perhaps the bitterness was longer than you expected, you wanted to shout and curse at the fates. But, you had no energy anymore.

This was an ending you did not expect.

An ending that you didn't know was possible.

"How is he?" You asked Tony, sitting by his dining table as you watch him wash dishes.

"He's broken, rightly so, he couldn't save his girlfriend," Tony sighs, placing the glass down as he turns around and leans himself against the sink, "I thought things would work out between them two, I liked Gwen."

You nodded, "Gwen was sweet."

You bit your lip, you thought that Peter should expect the death of Gwen - his variants told him about their lives, and he should be expecting it. You were drumming your fingers against the wooden table before sighing.

"Not only that, have you heard the fight between Peter and that Osborn boy?" You asked, tilting your head to Tony, who softly nods, "Peter was ranting to me about it, in the midst of his emotions, his life isn't supposed to go like this. All these events were earlier than his counterpart's lives."

"We live in a different dimension, things are different," Tony shrugs, "Unless Peter found himself someone who he trusts and spilt a bit too much - changing his life before his eyes."

"Please, Tony," You wave him off, "Peter has learnt not to trust every person he meets, he's grown in the last two years."

"Yeah, that's true."

Tony turns back to wash the dishes as you play with the string on your finger. Only you could see this string, on Peter's end it was still blue - to him, you were his platonic love. On your end, it was dark blue, almost black. You were no longer Peter's platonic love, you were his biggest enemy.

Just because he couldn't love you like you wanted him to.

#peter parker x male!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #avengers x male reader #x male reader #avenger imagines