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reese-tasteslikepepsicola · 4 months

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Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Naked

Summary: In which Reader walks in on a naked Peter, Reader laughs, Peter becomes insecure. Reader decides to show herself naked back in the worst moment possible. Based on the episode of New Girl with Jess and Nick lol <3

Warnings: Nudity, slight smut? Like it’s not crazy smutty, Peter fantasizes about reader while with someone else for a hot minute lol

…

“You are not gonna believe this!” Peter’s voice can be heard from the front door of your shared New York Loft.

You, Mj, Peter and Ned were all living together and sharing rent while you all attended College. It was chaotic at times, but it worked out.

At the end of the day, it was nice to be snuggled up on the couch watching a cheesy horror movie with your friends,

“You finally grew a few inches?” Mj asked, biting into her bagel that you made for her. Peter glared at her before throwing his jacket on the couch,

“No. This girl in my Econ class wants me to come over tonight to hang out” You turned around so quick that the whisk that had egg on it flew off and splashed onto Ned,

“Really?” He groaned and wiped it off,

“A date?” Your eyebrow raised, a smirk plastered on your face, attempting to cover up your jealousy.

You and Peter weren’t dating, or even flirting with each other at that. You guys were just simply friends and roommates.

Peter couldn’t deny that you were cute and blessed in all the right places, and you couldn’t deny that he was hot and awkward in a charming way.

All of the glances at each other and occasional long lasting hugs between the both of you were always cut off with the bug boy poking fun at you and you firing back ten times worse.

So, why were you so jealous that he was gonna get some ass tonight?

“Oh! Peter is getting the hanky panky?” You exclaimed, a grin on your face. He scrunched up his nose and snatched one of Ned’s pieces of bacon,

“Y/n, don’t call it that. But, yes, I will most likely be having sex tonight with a hot, sarcastic blond who’s totally into my muscles” He flexed his arm in your face obnoxiously,

“Gross” Mj snorted. You slapped his bicep with the spatula,

“You know what, good for you, man. What’s her name?” Ned asked, patting Peter on the back,

“Her name is Lauren. She’s into politics and nature, and enjoys taking pictures of big, historical buildings” He stated, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders and smirking,

“Too bad your building is small” Ned joked. Peter tilted his head to the side in confusion,

“What’s that mean?” Mj cackled and looked over at you as you let out a snort,

“Oh! I was just—um—joking that your uh—penis? Yeah, penis, is small. But, it’s not! It was a joke! You’ve got a great penis, man! I’m not saying it’s small—they laughed, okay?!” Ned began stuttering, scratching the back of his neck and pointing at the two girls who were laughing.

Peter just nodded and squinted his eyes,

“Right, whatever” While his three roommates continued conversation, he remained silent and began overthinking about what Ned said.

Yeah, it was a joke! But, was it, though? Was there truth behind it?

“Your dick is huge, Peter. Lauren will love it” Peter said as he stared at himself in the mirror in his room.

‘Blue (Da Ba Dee)’ by Eiffel 65 began playing from Peter’s speaker. He turned the volume up to the max and stepped back to get a better view of himself.

He took off his shirt and began flexing his biceps, then awkwardly dancing, attempting to boost his self-esteem. Aunt May always told him to dance if he was feeling upset as a kid,

“Yo, listen up here’s a story about a little guy that lives in a blue world!” Peter started singing along to the lyrics, unbuckling his belt and pulling his jeans down,

“And a blue corvette and everything is blue for him and himself and everybody around cause he ain’t got nobody to listen!” He ran his hand down abs, continuing to stare at himself in the mirror and singing along to the song.

Meanwhile, you were on your stomach in your bed, studying for your upcoming exam. You were slowly growing frustrated with Peter’s loud music powering over your’s that was playing from your phone,

“Peter! Turn your shit down! I can barely hear Lana Del Rey, right now!”

He slowly pulled down his boxers and sighed, scratching his forehead,

“Well, here’s my dick, Lauren. Hope you like it” He mumbled. The mirror isn’t flattering,

“Yep, it’s definitely the mirror, Peter. I’m beautiful the way I am” He shook his head and cringed at his words, and began dancing again.

“For fuck sake” You slammed your textbook shut and got up, ready to cuss him out. You walked across the hall and swung his bedroom door open,

“Seriously, dude! Some of us are trying to study!” When you looked up, you gasped as you were face to face with a dancing and very naked Peter Parker.

You both froze and stared at each other for a few seconds before you broke it by pointing at his dick and letting out a screech-like laugh, then running out of the room.

The whole situation hit Peter like a wave, and he flopped down on his bed and caged his head in between his arms,

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god—no, no, no, no” He kept repeating, the incident replaying in his head.

A notification went off on his phone. He grabbed it and saw it was a message from Lauren.

Laurenfromecon: Hey big boy. My roommate finally left for the night. I hope your on your way ;)

Peter took a deep breath and sent a thumbs up back, too traumatized and distraught to send anything flirty back.

If you laughed at his dick, wouldn’t that mean Lauren would, too?

“Hey guys—to make my story short, I walked in on Peter dancing naked to that blue song” Ned spat out his water and Mj’s eyes practically bulged out of her her head,

“Oh! That’s not…” She laughed, setting her mug down on the coffee table,

“Yeah! Like he was dancing naked and like—staring at himself in the mirror while doing it, too! It was so—weird? I don’t know what to say to him now!” You began ranting, playing with your hair nervously.

Ned stood up and placed his hands on your shoulders,

“What did you say to him? Or did you say anything at all?” You looked down at your hands and began fiddling with them,

“Well, I kinda might’ve pointed at his…friend and laughed at it” Ned threw his head back and placed his hands on his face,

“Y/n! You never laugh at a man’s penis! That’s like the worse thing a woman could do!” Mj shook her head and leaned back into the couch,

“And right before his hook up, too? Dude, he’s probably in his room right now crying and throwing up” You grabbed a pillow and screamed into it before flopping down,

“Speak of the devil” She mumbled, flicking your head and then pointing to Peter who was fast walking past you guys with his hoodie covering his face,

“Oh my god! Hey, buddy!” You cringed at your words as you jogged after him to the front door,

“Please, leave me alone, y/n” He mumbled, trying to find where his keys were hanging frantically,

“Peter, we should really talk about this! It was just an accident that won’t happen again, right?” You tried to say nonchalantly, giving an awkward shrug as you guarded the front door,

“We knock on doors in this house. It shouldn’t of happened in the first place” He said through gritted teeth, finally getting ahold of his keys,

“I know! Just, your music was so loud and you wouldn’t of heard my kno—

“Y/n, please move” You sighed and slapped his shoulder,

“Listen, Petey, dancing naked is so normal! I dance naked sometimes, too!” You exclaimed. Your two friends both shook their heads as they watched what was currently going on in front of them,

“Just—move” He gently pushed you out of the way and opened the door, making his way out into the halls,

“I dance naked while listening to Sza and Ethel Cain all the time! Nothing to be ashamed of” You yelled out, your voice and words echoing throughout the halls. Peter shook his head and ran to the elevator. Your neighbour stepped out and gave you a disgusted look,

“Oh, shut the fuck up” You glared at him.

“Your so hot, Peter” Lauren moaned out, straddling him on her bed,

“Uh—thanks. Your pretty hot, too” He mumbled in between kisses. He shut his eyes, desperately trying to get himself hard and get you out of his thoughts,

“Fuck, take off your pants” The girl said, her hands going to the zipper of his jeans. Peter felt his heart jump out of his chest in fear,

“Wait! Can you take off yours first?” He pulled her hands away from crotch. She smirked and hopped off the bed and began stripping till she was completely naked.

Peter let out a huff of air and palmed himself,

“Wow, your um- nice” He cringed at his compliment and at how he still wasn’t becoming hard looking at a naked, blond chick who wanted him.

Did y/n break my dick’s ability to function for good? He thought to himself,

“Peter? You alright?” Lauren asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face,

“Huh? Yeah! Oh, yeah! I just need to…” He trailed off, gesturing to his dick. The blond grinned and nodded, going back to straddling him, grinding on him,

“Oh, shit” Peter cursed as her hand reached into his pants, slipping past his boxers, beginning to stroke his length.

As Peter laid his head back against the pillow, he found himself beginning to relax, trying to ease his mind,

If Lauren didn’t like my dick, why is she trying so hard to get it up? Y/n is immature, of course she’d laugh at your penis! Y/n…y/n…y/n…I wonder what y/n is doing right now. She’s probably dressed in her cute pyjama set after having her nightly shower. She’s probably laid on her bed thinking about you, thinking about you naked. Yeah, she for sure is. I wonder what she does in her room when she’s alone. Y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n…

Y/N?!

“Peter?” Lauren cleared her throat and took her hand out of his pants,

“Are you okay?” Peter eyes snapped opened,

“Is there anything I can like—do differently?” She asked awkwardly, chewing on her nail.

The spider boy let out a groan and flopped back down on the pillow, his flushed with embarrassment,

“Sorry. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s just—

“It’s fine, whatever. It’s okay to not be in the mood” She said, rolling off of him and slipping her clothes back on,

“Maybe we can…cuddle?” Peter asked, immediately regretting his words. The blond nodded, hesitantly laying underneath his arm,

“Uh, okay”

What the fuck is wrong with you, Peter? Why were you thinking about Y/n?

Peter stayed the night and left first thing in the morning,

“So…how was it?” Ned asked as Peter sat down on the leather couch.

He shook his head,

“Terrible” His friend frowned and paused the football game that was currently playing,

“What happened?”

Peter explained everything to Ned,

“Let me guess, the way y/n laughed at your junk made you so insecure about it that you couldn’t get a hard on?” Bug-boy groaned and and lifted his arms up,

“Exactly! What the fuck am I supposed to do now? What if she ruined my ability to ever become horny?”

Ned shrugged and frowned,

“Listen, y/n feels horrible about the way she acted. She really does feel bad. Go talk to her, trust me. My grandma always says that communication is the bed solution”

“Thanks a lot, y/n! Because of you, I can’t get an erection!” Peter yelled as he barged into your room. You slammed your book shut and sat up on your knees in the middle of your bed,

“What?!” He nodded and and pointed his finger in your face,

“I cant get your stupid little screech out of my head! The whole time I was trying to hook up with Lauren, your laugh and reaction to my dick kept replaying in my mind” You placed your face in your hands,

“I’m sorry, okay?! I just panicked, and when I panic I laugh or scream!” He rolled his eyes and leaned against your doorframe,

“Peter…your member is beautiful, okay?” You said, giving him a toothy smile. His face scrunched up,

“Oh my god! Do not call it a member, please. Call it a dick or whatever” You sighed and pushed your hair back,

“Your dick is nice looking, okay? It’s a good—dick. It’s far from small. I just got embarrassed because I invaded your…privacy” You were telling the truth.

He ‘tsked’ at the last part,

“You were embarrassed?” He said, raising an eyebrow,

“We were both embarrassed! I should have knocked. You should have turned down your music” He nodded and remained silent,

“I guess so”

The next day, you came up with the best idea.

There had to be some way to ease the tension, to relieve Peter’s embarrassment,

“This should work” You said, standing nude in front of your mirror. You ran your hands up and down your curves and let out a huff.

Your idea was to wait in his room and flash Peter when he came home to make it even between the both of you.

It’s only fair, right?

You wrapped a towel around yourself and made your way to his room.

“Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening” Peter and Lauren came stumbling through your shared loft,

“Are you sure your friends are out tonight?” The girl asked against his lips. He moaned when she pushed into his groin,

“Y-Yeah. They should be”

Peter had texted Lauren that morning, asking to hang out.

He really thought about everything that went down and concluded that it was never that serious.

His dick was fine, so was his body, and he wasn’t going to let you stop him from hooking up with pretty girls.

That’s how he ended with Lauren in his car, and then in his apartment,

“My room is down here” She followed him as he led her to his room.

You gasped as you heard Peter and a female voice echo throughout the apartment.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!

You scrambled around the room, quickly trying to find where to go. You went to the bedroom door and stopped as you heard them step right outside it.

Fuck! Think fast, y/n.

You stopped, dropped, and rolled to the side of his bed that was facing away from the door.

“Take off your clothes” Peter nodded as he stood in front of Lauren who was sitting on the edge of his bed. He took a deep breath and hurriedly took off his shirt.

She grinned and bit her lip, her hands going to unclasp her bra,

“Who the fuck is that?!” She screamed, pointing to the floor before covering her chest. Peter turned around and saw you in a towel, crawling on the floor towards his door,

“Y/n?! Wha—

You stood up and ran to the door, your towel then fell, revealing your nude backside,

“Oh…f-fuck” Peter whimpered as he stared at your body, completely forgetting that the blond was there, sitting frightened and confused as hell on his bed.

His eyes became hazy, his pupils dilating,

“Y/n” You slowly turned around, his gaze now being introduced to your naked front view.

His eyes trailed from your face to your breasts and lower.

A smirk-like grin formed on his lips as he stared at you.

You cleared your throat and ran a hand through your hair,

“Ta-da” You said, giving a weird smile.

Coming to your senses, you picked up the towel and quickly wrapped it around yourself, then practically sprinted out of the room and slamming the door behind you,

“Wow” Peter chuckled under his breath.

You were so fucking beautiful.

She’s so fucking beautiful, holy shit.

Lauren screamed from behind him,

“Um—what the fucking fuck just fucking happened!!”

Part 2!

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gratelove · 5 months

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You Didn’t Tell Me

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: 18+, sexual intercourse, oral, sweet Peter, rough, fluff

You’re Peter’s best friend and he has seemed distant recently. You try to confront him about it and it turns into an argument. You go to his house to make up, and find him coming home as Spider-Man. This leads to reader and Peter getting steamy.

“Hey Pete, I was thinking we could hang out after school? You could come over and we can maybe have a movie night?” You ask your best friend, Peter Parker. You are both walking through the crowded halls on the way to your next class.

“I can’t tonight.” Is all he says. He won’t make eye contact with you and as you watch him, he licks his lips nervously, running a hand through his soft, brown hair. You’re walking so close to each other that your shoulders bump every once in a while. You can smell a faint scent of cologne. The cologne he always wears that you love so much.

“Why not?” You stare at him, stopping in your tracks. You can feel yourself starting to get frustrated, but you try to keep your cool. Peter has been dodging you for the last few weeks. You used to hang out every day after school. Whether it was studying, watching movies, or just talking for hours. He’s the only person that you could genuinely talk to forever about nothing in particular. All you know is that you miss your best friend.

“Because I’m… Im busy. I promised May we’d go out to eat.” You both move out of the center of the busy hallways and you lean against a locker, raising your eyebrow at his statement.

“Really?” You know that’s a lie and now your blood starts to boil.

“Yes, really.” Peter says, still continuing to avoid eye contact.

“May texted me this morning. She asked me if we were hanging out tonight. She said she’s worried because she hasn’t seen me over there in weeks. Why are you lying to me Peter?” Your fingers tighten around the school books in your hand.

“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry. I just can’t tonight.” Peter turns his back to you and continues down the hall.

“Why won’t you tell me? We tell each other everything!” You catch up to him, walking fast, trying to keep up with him.

“I really can’t do this, Y/N. Please just leave it alone.”

“No! If I did something wrong, I’m sorry. If you don’t want to be my friend, just say so! Don’t just ignore me and pretend I don’t exist!” Peter turns in front of you, stopping all movement.

“I just don’t have time for you!” Peter yells. A couple people walking by stare as they go. You are filled with embarrassment as you see others eyes on you. “Im sorry, Y/N. I just can’t do this right n-“

“It’s fine.” Tears pool in your eyes and you take a deep breath. You push past him, hitting him with your shoulder. You wipe the tear falling down your cheek and head to your next class.

——

You’ve had all day to think about the argument you had with Peter and decide that you should go talk to him. There is obviously something going on, and you’ve always told each other everything, so this must be serious. Instead of pushing him away, or getting mad at him, you should just be there for him as his friend. You decided that you are going to go straight to his house to talk to him and apologize for pressuring him to talk.

Once you arrive, you knock on the door and May answers. She smiles and give you a big hug.

“Hey sweetheart! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” You smile and step inside, as May closes the front door.

“Hey May, is he here?” You ask, looking at the stairs that lead to Peter’s room.

“No, but you’re more than welcome to wait for him. Did you want anything to eat?”

“No, thank you. I’m just going to do some homework in his room.” You head up the wood stairs, a couple of them squeak as you go up. You get to his room to see clothes thrown on the floor and paper scattered on his desk. This is unusual for him. He usually keeps his room clean and tidy. You pull out your laptop and starting writing an essay for class. You do this for what feels like hours.

——

Several hours later, you have finished your paper, and are just scrolling through your phone. It’s dark outside and you look at the time. It’s almost 11:00 at night.

Suddenly, you hear the bedroom window being pulled open. Your heart starts to race and grab the first thing your hand touches, which is a clock, and you prepare to throw it at an intruder. You soon realize the mystery person crawling through the window is Peter… in a Spider-Man suit? Is he?

“Peter?” He quickly turns around as you drop the clock to the floor in shock. Your eyes widen. “Your-your Spider… You’re Spider-Man?” He pushes a small spider emblem on the center of his chest and the skin tight suit starts to fall from his chiseled shoulders.

“No no no. I’m not. No I’m not.” Peter says frantically. He’s left in just a pair of boxers as he stands there with a horrified look on his face. Sure that your expression matches, you sit on the edge of his bed.

“How is that possible? How are you… I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” You shake your head and Peter walks over to you, sitting next to you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just wanted you to be safe. I was afraid if you knew, that you would be in danger. I was also told not to tell anyone. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” He puts a hand on your thigh and you feel tingles shoot through your body.

“I was so scared that you didn’t want to be my friend.” You put your hand over his and he smiles.

“I honestly couldn’t live without you. I was only willing to if it meant you were going to be safe. I’d do anything to make sure that happens. I wanted to tell you more than anything, but I was scared.” Your stomach flutters at his words as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You lean into his hand and smile. You have always had a small crush on Peter. One that you would never tell him about because you wouldn’t want to lose him or ruin your friendship. Right now, those feelings are stronger than ever. “You know, I honestly didn’t think I’d ever say this, but… oh god.” Peter pauses and takes a deep breath.

“Hey, you can tell me anything.”

“You say that, but you have no idea what I’m going to say. Y/N, I’ve loved you for the longest time.” You are taken back at Peter’s confession. You never once thought you’d hear those words. You never thought your feelings would ever be reciprocated.

“I- Peter-“

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Pete puts his head in hide hands. “Spider-Man gives me a stupid sense of confidence.” He shakes his head and you giggle. You pull at his wrists so that the beautiful brunette boy is forced to look at you. His face is bright red in embarrassment. You grab both sides of his cheeks and kiss him. You feel his hands wrap around your waist and slightly squeeze. You pull away and look into his sweet brown eyes. A large smiles spreads across his face. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for too many years.” You both giggle and you feel his warm breath across your cheeks.

“Then do it again.” He stares at you for a moment, and then your lips are connected again. You tug lightly at his curls as he deepens the kiss. His hands run down your neck until they find them hem of your shirt. He lips trail down your cheek, then your jaw line, until they find the crook of your neck. His fingers play with the fabric, and you lift your back up slightly, giving him the cue to pull your shirt off. Peter stares at your chest. Your breasts pool slightly over your pink, floral bra from holding yourself up on your elbows.

“Do you want to?” He asks, continuing to stare at you in awe. His voice is shaky as he asks. You can tell he is nervous. You know he is a virgin.

“Do you want to? This’ll be your first time. Are you sure this is what you want?” You ask and watch his expression. He face turns red with embarrassment and you giggle. “It’s okay if you’re nervous. I just want to make sure that this is what you want.”

“It is what I want. I want you so badly, Y/N. I’ve wanted you for years.” You grab the back of Peter’s neck and connect your lips together. He moans into the kiss. You stop kissing and shove your hand against his chest.

“Roll over.” You smile and he follows your instructions. You are now straddling him. You go for his neck and start sucking at the skin, hopefully leaving bruises. Peter moans underneath you and you can feel yourself start to get wet. You run your fingers over his abs and slowly make your way down his abdomen with your mouth. Your lips connecting with his warm skin until you reach the top of his thin, black boxers. He’s bulging out of the thin fabric, and you run your hand over his hard cock. Your fingers play with the hem as you kiss his penis through the cloth. “Pull your boxers down.” Peter does as you instruct, and soon he is laid before you, naked. His length rests against his stomach. You take him in your hand, wrapping your mouth around his tip. You slowly swirl your tongue around his sensitive tip. You watch as Peter’s eye roll to the back of his head, and he throws his head back against the pillow, letting out a soft moan. He is large and you know you won’t be able to fit his whole cock in your mouth without choking. You let your saliva run down his member and use your hand to start jerking him off. While your hand is rubbing his length, you use your tongue to run circles around his tip.

“Oh fuck, Y/N.” Peter pants. His legs are tensing underneath you, and you feel precum leak onto your tongue. “Y/N, that feels amazing.” You pick up your pace, moving you hand faster, up and down his shaft. His moans start to get louder. “Oh, I’m going to cum.” Just as Peter says that you pull your mouth off of him, leaving him confused and so close to orgasm.

“Condom?” You ask and Peter frantically pulls open the bedside table drawer. He pulls out a small purple package and peels it open. You watch as he fumbles with the rubber in his fingers, eventually grabbing it from him. You line the opening up with his cock and slide it down, making sure to apply pressure. He gives you a small moan and a smile pulls at your lips. You unclamp your bra, exposing your breasts. You stand up and unbutton your jeans, pulling them down with your panties. Peter is staring at you. You climb on top of him, kissing him hard. “I’ve thought about you inside me so many times. I’ve fingered myself to the thought of you fucking me, Parker.” You grab both of his hands and put them on your breasts. You line him up with your entrance and slowly lower yourself onto him. His large member stretches you. Your rest your forehead on Peter’s, and you both let out a moan.

“You feel so tight, Y/N.” Peter groans. His hands find your hips and he squeezes them tight as he lifts you up and down. Your hands grab the headboard and you pick up your pace. You bounce up and down on his hard cock, both of you moaning in sync. Peter takes one of your breasts in his mouth and swirls his tongue around your nipple. Biting it slightly, you thrown your head back, moaning loudly.

“Fuck Peter, you cock feels so good.” In two seconds you are flipped onto your back, Peter now on top of you.

“Can I go harder?” Peter asks and you nod your head. His hands grip at your hips even tighter than before. Peter’s pace picks up compared to when you were on top. His cocks is pounding into you, and you put your hand over your mouth, muffling the screams that try to erupt so May doesn’t hear.

“Fuck, Peter! Oh my god!” You scream through your hand. You see sweat drip down his chest and flow between the shape of his abs. Pieces of brown curls stick and bounce off his glistening forehead. His brown eyes watch as yours are thrown back with the feeling of him pounding you into the mattress. “Im gonna cum.” You grab the back of his neck, wrapping your legs around him, and yank at his hair.

“Me too baby.” He moans and just as you both release you hear a crack and you both drop. You yelp and look around to see one of the bed’s legs snapped. Peter and you lock eyes and then burst into laughter.

“I’ve never been fucked like that before.” Peter chuckles.

“I’m still figuring out how to control my new strength.”

“I think you have it pretty under control.” He raises an eyebrow and kisses you softly.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #spider man smut #spider man fanfiction

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shellshocklove · 1 year

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conversation | peter parker

pairing: college!peter parker x college!female!reader

summary: peter parker is in the friendzone. and it sucks. especially when the girl he’s in love with is dating his best friend. smack dab in the middle of a bad situation peter struggles to keep his feelings at bay when the girl of his dreams comes to him for advice about her failing relationship.

warnings: i guess post!nwh, swearing, cheating, peter pining for reader, everyone being a bad guy, smut 18+ (minors dni!!!), unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4.1k

a/n: um my first peter fic! it’s based on the song conversation by joni mitchell. listen to it, or don’t, i’m not your mother. i said i was going to stop posting writing, but i have “i must create or i’ll go crazy” disease so... (i’m still not a writer)

main masterlist / ao3

She comes to him for conversation, for comfort, for consultation. But Peter wished she came to him for something else.

He remembers the first time he saw you. How he’d thought his heart had stopped for a second, forgetting how to do its most basic function. How could someone look so effortlessly beautiful? How could a voice sound so sweet while asking such a mundane question?

“Is this seat taken?”.

“N-n-no!” he’d manage to stutter out, his cheeks flushed red and completely taken aback by the fact that you were talking to him. You’d given him a playful smile before seating yourself next to him.

Did he believe in love at first sight? Yes, after seeing you for the first time, Peter started to think he did.

Meeting you in a chemistry class, Peter thought, must be the universe’s take on a bad joke, because… you two had chemistry. Everything just felt so easy when he hung out with you. His smile always wide, cheeks hurting. Conversation flowing freely, or engulfed in a silence, that was always comfortable. The only thing though, even though you two had chemistry, you weren’t any good at it. Actually, you were barely passing.

And that’s how your time began. Sharing sodas after class, in a rundown diner, over chemistry homework. You’d seen how Peter had gotten straight A’s on all his tests, and one day you’d carefully asked if he would be so kind as to help you. Those were the actual words you’d used. If Peter would be so kind. As if he wouldn’t have done anything you’d ask without a second thought. Okay, maybe not anything. He doesn’t think he’d murder someone if you asked… or maybe… if you were in danger and it was the only way–

“Peter!” you laughed, waving your hand in front of his face, “Are you even listening to me?”.

“Huh!?” he hummed, a familiar warmth spreading through his cheeks as your laugh rang through his ears.

“You zoned out a little,” you said, scrunching up your nose. Oh god he loved when you did that– you looked so cute.

“Oh! S-sorry” he stuttered out, still embarrassed that you’d caught him daydreaming, “What were you saying?”.

“Ehm… just forget it” you looked away, waving your hand, “It was just something Harry did again”.

His name coming from your mouth felt like a bucket of ice-cold water over Peter’s head. Harry Osborn, your boyfriend, and Peter’s roommate.

As much as Peter loved Harry, he didn’t treat you well. This was usually how your conversations during your study dates would go, once it was clear that after a few hours of studying, you were done with chemistry for the day.

You’d usually bring up small things that Harry had done that hurt you or annoyed you. And Peter would be tasked with giving you advice, or comfort, or consolation. You always apologized after, for bringing Harry up in conversation, but Peter always brushed it off telling you it was fine. But it wasn’t. It always reminded him about his own failures. How if he hadn’t been such a pussy at Betty’s party, all those months ago, and told you how he felt, this wouldn’t just be a study date, but a real date. The problem was just that Harry had beat him to it that night. In Harry’s defense, he didn’t know about Peter’s feelings about you. No one did.

You’d disappeared at some point in the night, and Peter figured you’d gone home. Turns out you did go home, but not to your own apartment, but to Peter’s and Harry’s instead. A fact Peter didn’t know until the morning after when he’d bumped into you in the kitchen, his heart dropping to his stomach at the sight of you in nothing but Harry’s shirt.

Peter’s dreams weren’t completely crushed at that moment. He still harbored hope for you. Harry was quite the whore (Harry’s own words by the way, not Peter’s), and this wasn’t the first time Peter ran into one of his hook-ups in the kitchen after a night out. In Peter’s mind this was only a one-night stand. But he couldn’t have been more wrong. Not soon after, you started showing up at the penthouse, not to hang out with Peter, but with Harry instead.

Peter tried his best to not be disappointed when you came over. But the tiny spark of hope he had about one day calling you his, soon fizzled out and died. Every time he saw you and Harry kissing, holding hands; he knew nothing would ever happen between the two of you.

Trying to forget you, he started busying himself with classes and patrol, seeing you less and less. He’d run into you sometimes when you were visiting Harry. Only a short “Hello” leaving Peter’s lips as he’d retire to his room before Harry could see how much Peter wanted you.

Back in his room, Peter would convince himself that you and Harry being together was the best thing for you. If you were with Peter, he’d only end up hurting you. You deserve the very best, and Peter knew he would never be good enough. He was a fucking mess most of the time. He was always late to things, never on time, he couldn’t afford to treat you to nice things like Harry did, and his double life could make you a target, which was the last thing he wanted.

Peter kept his distance the best he could, but as time went on it got harder and harder to convince himself that Harry treated you the way Peter thought you deserved. Peter knew Harry wasn’t being honest with you, and it killed him to keep his mouth shut. The bubbling anger simmering under the surface every time he’d see a girl who wasn’t you, slip out of Harry’s bedroom. Then like a curse, a few moments later, his enhanced hearing enabled him to eavesdrop on yours’ and Harry’s conversations on the phone. Harry would always apologize for being too busy to come over and hang out. And with the softest voice, you’d let Harry off the hook every time. Leaving the penthouse, to go on patrol after nights like that, Peter admitted, his punches hit a little harder.

Your relationship tasted especially bitter in Peter’s mouth whenever Harry would throw parties at the penthouse. A hand over your shoulder or around your waist, never leaving your side, showing you off like you were a prized possession and not a human being. Was this the final straw for Peter? Seeing yet another way Harry didn’t treat you as well as he should; that had made him not want to make up an excuse, like he normally would, when you’d ask him if he wanted to study at the diner.

Peter had kept his distance from you for the last six months. Tried to stay in his lane. To turn the other eye. To fold his feelings for you in on itself like a piece of paper so many times he hoped they’d disappear. But one look at you again, sitting across from him at your regular booth at the diner, and his origami-ed feelings had sprung up again like a blooming flower in spring.

“I just really wanted to see him, you know? I’ve been so stressed about this chemistry exam– that I know I’m gonna fail by the way, and work’s been kicking my ass– and I just wanted to hang out with my boyfriend… but he canceled on me three times this week”.

Or maybe the final straw, for Peter, was the way your whole body deflated in front of him. Peter could feel his heart break in real time watching you turn your head away, hiding the wobble of your bottom lip. And the worst part of it all was that Peter knew why Harry had canceled on you. He’d been over at someone else’s place. But Peter knew he couldn’t tell you that.

Carefully he reached out his hand, brushing it over the back of yours as you rested it on the table. “I’m sure Harry’s just been busy! I know he’s got his exams in a few weeks, and he hasn’t been home as much lately” Peter said, trying his best to make you feel better.

You watched your hands for a moment, how Peter brushed his hand over yours trying to sooth you the best he could. Then you turned your hand, wrapping it around his in a gentle hold. The soft touch of your warm hand, making Peter stop breathing for a second.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “you’re probably right, Peter”. You tried your best to smile, but Peter could see your sorrow written all over your face, breaking Peter’s heart even more.

“You’re a good friend Peter!” you started, “I’m so sorry for always talking about Harry, but it’s just that you know him so well, so it’s easier to talk about him with you– and you always manage to say the right thing to make me feel better” you looked down at your intertwining hands.

“It’s almost scary how easily you can make me feel better Peter– it’s like you have superpowers or something” you said, a chuckle escaping your lips.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you about my superpowers?” Peter quipped, trying his best to cheer you up even more. A smile spread across your face as you shook your head.

“My powers are actually being very good at chemistry– AND knowing how to make my friend who’s failing her chemistry class feel better”.

A giggle left your lips at Peter’s joke as you let out a sarcastic “haha, very funny”, playing along.

If only you knew though. How he wished that this mess could be fixed with his actual superpowers. How he wished he could just put on the suit and save you from Harry. How he wished he could free you.

Landing safely on the rooftop of Harry’s penthouse, Peter looked around for his backpack he’d hid with his clothes. He’d managed to hide his double life from Harry so far, and he planned on it staying that way, which meant changing in and out of his suit crouched behind a rooftop vent, every day.

He was back earlier than usual, cutting tonight’s patrol short as it had turned out to be a quiet night. He’d stopped a man stealing a lady’s purse, and after he’d helped a man, who he was 90% sure had dementia, find his way back to his apartment. After that he’d just swung around the city for a few hours. At sunset he’d found a good spot at the top of this new skyscraper they were building downtown. His feet dangled off the scaffolding as he watched the sky turn every shade of pink and orange, before the sun dipped below the horizon.

Back home, on the roof, Peter felt the soft touch of the spring night against his naked skin. He quickly changed out of his suit before stuffing it back into his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder before he headed towards the rooftop door. With a light bounce in his step, Peter made his way down the stairs, his head filled with thoughts about all the studying he needed to do before his exam next week. Slipping through the front door he’s so distracted by his own thoughts he almost doesn’t hear it. The sounds of muffled moans accompanied by Harry’s bedpost hitting the wall.

But he does hear it, and images of how sad you’d looked earlier at the diner start flickering through Peter’s head. Before any rational thoughts can stop him, he’s fished his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. He’s had enough. His fingers work on their own accord, pulling up your contact.

Peter hi, um are you at the penthouse right now?

He knew you weren’t, but he figured this was the best way to bring it up. Taking long strides across the floor, he made his way towards his bedroom door. Why did he suddenly feel like he needed to hide?

He passed through his bedroom door while he slipped his backpack off his shoulder. Not even ten seconds later his phone buzzed in his hands with your reply. He sat down quickly on his bed, one leg bouncing in an anxious rhythm, as he read your reply.

You no? i’m at home why?

Peter i think you should come over there’s a girl with harry in his room

Did this make him a bad person Peter asked himself as he watched the three dotted bubble appear and then disappear. Was this just him acting out of his own selfishness? Letting the devil on his shoulder whisper in his ear and guide his hand? Or did it make him a hero? Saving you from a toxic relationship?

You i’m coming over.

The sound of your footsteps echoed down the streets, mixing with Peter’s calls of your name as he practically jogged behind you trying to catch up to you.

“Peter” you sighed, “just please go back home”.

“No!” he finally caught up to you, grabbing a hold of your wrist, pulling it a little, making you slow down.

“I don’t think you should be alone right now”.

Your face was blank, the only sign of any emotion coming from your restless eyes dancing across his face. He couldn’t decipher what you were thinking. You were angry of course. You were furious only minutes ago when you stormed out the door with both Harry and Peter at your heel.

Harry had spoken his sorry sentences. Telling you it wasn’t what it looked like. Begging for your forgiveness. But he was only kidding himself trying to convince you it wasn’t what it looked like, that he hadn’t cheated on you, when you’d literally caught him with his dick inside another woman.

Harry stayed behind in the lobby, probably thinking it wasn’t worth it to go after you into the spring night, in only his robe. Just as Peter were about to rush after you Harry spoke up,

“If you go after her you’re dead to me!”.

The venomous bite to Harry’s tone stopped Peter dead in his tracks.

“I know you fucking told her” Harry accused, “If you go after her I’m kicking you out– I NEVER want to see you again”.

But standing here, out on the streets of New York at midnight, holding your hand Peter knew he’d made the right decision.

“Ok” you said it so softly Peter didn't think he’d even hear it if his hearing wasn’t enhanced.

“Ok” he repeated.

You pulled your hand away, a knife twisting in Peter’s heart, and started walking. You didn’t say a single word on the way back to your apartment. Peter imagined you were hurt, but you weren’t crying, and Peter didn’t know if that scared him or comforted him.

Safely back inside your apartment you didn’t even acknowledge his presence as you threw your jacket off by the door. Then you walked down the hallway, taking a right at the end, to where he assumed your living room must be. Peter had never actually been in your apartment before.

He followed you down the hallway, after neatly hanging both his and your jacket on your coat rack. He found you on the floor by your couch, your back resting against the front, holding your knees to your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as soft sobs escaped you.

“I’m sorry you had to find out like that” Peter apologized, sitting down next to you on your carpet. A feeling like his only purpose in life was to comfort you, overcame him. So, he wrapped a hand around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. You leaned in closer to his body, your hands shifting from hugging yourself, to hugging Peter tightly.

“No, this was exactly how I needed to find out” you sobbed, “I needed to see it with my own eyes, or I wouldn’t have believed it”.

Peter let you cry until there weren't any tears left to cry, cooing you and whispering all the most reassuring words he could muster up past midnight.

“I don’t know why it hurts so bad… I think deep down I always knew he wasn’t being honest with me– he always kept me guessing” you said. No, Peter thought, he kept you down.

Before Peter could say anything, you lifted your head from his chest, a big wet spot on his t-shirt left in your wake. You looked him right in the eye, and Peter could feel a budding warmth of red covering the apples of his cheeks.

“Please Peter” you pleaded, moving your face closer, the closest it’s ever been to his. Your right hand traveled to cup his hot cheeks, pulling him even closer to your face. So close he felt your breath tickle his skin while you spoke,

“You always make me feel better– it’s your superpower, remember? Please make me feel better”.

Closing his eyes, Peter knew he couldn’t deny you, his heart screamed out for you. This was everything he wanted, was it not? With a shuddering breath and a heart beating out of his chest, he closed the space between you, brushing his lips over yours.

Your other hand cupped his other cheek, pulling him even closer to your body, letting out a small whimper as you kissed him back. Peter felt like his head was spinning. He didn’t know where he ended, and you began.

Then it all became a bit of a blur. His hands found your waist as you climbed onto his lap, brushing your tongue over his bottom lip, deepening the kiss. Your hand left his cheek to toy with his hair, and Peter just about moaned into your mouth. He needed more of you, and with the way you were grinding down on his growing bulge, he knew you did too.

Warmth flooded his body wherever you touched him, and he didn’t think he could ever get enough of you. When your hand left his hair, he just about sighed with disappointment, until he realized how you toyed with the hem of his t-shirt. Raising his hands, he helped you pull it off him. Absentmindedly, you threw it away, before your eyes fell to his chest, quickly scanning over his muscles before they traveled up to his face, where they looked into his soul. Half a second later you pulled him in for another heated kiss.

His hands fell to your ass, helping you grind down on him. Fuck, he was properly hard now, his cock straining against his jeans. With every brush of your core against his cock you whimpered into his mouth, making Peter almost feel lightheaded. You were so pretty. Your lips tasted like raspberries, and under his hands your skin was softer than velvet.

“Take off your pants please” you pleaded against his skin as you started pressing soft kisses down along his jaw and neck.

His hands raced to unbutton his jeans. You pulled away from his neck, staggering to your feet on wobbly legs, making a whine leaving Peter’s lips. Over him you started pulling on your pants, dragging them down your legs along with your panties in one go. Mesmerized by your silhouette, Peter almost forgot what he was doing. You quickly sat down beside him, fingers coming up to hook around the waistband of Peter’s jeans. Then you started pulling them down to his mid-thigh along with his boxers. Peter almost forgot to breathe as you freed his aching cock.

When you climbed onto his lap, Peter’s brain started working again. His hands fell to your ass, steadying you as you got comfortable on his lap.

“D-did you want me to…” Peter trailed off, not knowing how to say what he wanted to say. Instead, he showed you. His right hand rubber over your ass and hip before his fingers brushed over your clit. You mewled at the contact, your eyes closing before you shook your head.

“No, no I just want you– I need you, Peter”.

Fuck, Peter thought. He’d dreamt of hearing you tell him you wanted him, for months. And now it wasn’t a dream anymore.

“O-okay” he stuttered, reaching a hand between your bodies, grabbing at his shaft in a rough hold. With his other hand he helped guide your hips to hover over his tip, sliding it back and forth over your slit, and lining it up with your opening. He could feel how wet and desperate you were, coating his cock in your arousal.

With a hand resting on his shoulder, you slowly sat down on his cock. First slipping the tip in, before your walls swallowed the rest of him, taking him fully inside. A choked moan fell from Peter’s lips as he savored the feeling of your velvet pulsing walls around him. Rocking your hips back and forth, your puffy clit rubbing up against his pelvis, as your mouth fell open in a silent gasp, gaping around words you couldn’t get out.

“Shit” you panted, “You’re so deep”.

“Yeah” Peter breathed out, head falling back against the couch, “You feel me in your tummy?”.

“Fuck,” you lifted your hips, slowly starting to move, “y-yes, I d-do”.

Looking up at you, as you moved over him, Peter thought you looked like an angel. The way your ceiling light lit up the back of your head, Peter was sure you were wearing a halo.

Your rhythm increased and soon you were bouncing in his lap. Your breathy moans falling from your lips, the wet noises coming from where you were connected, and the way you were starting to clench around him, were making the tension in Peter’s stomach grow. Knitting his eyebrows together, Peter didn’t know how much longer he was going to last.

Scared he’d finish before you, his fingers found your clit, pressing down in tight circles. Under the touch of his fingers you almost jumped, while a shuddering breath left your lips. Then Peter felt himself start to get desperate, meeting your bounces with a thrusting of his hip, pushing his throbbing cock even further inside you.

Every brush of his fingers over your clit, coincided with a thrust of his hips, and soon he felt your wall flutter around him. He could feel how your wetness ran down his shaft and down his balls, and he knew you were as close to the edge of ecstasy as he was. His fingers never let up on your clit, and soon you clenched around him so hard he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Fuck,” Peter spat, “I’m gonna cum”.

“I–Inside” you moaned, “You can come inside– it’s okay”.

Your words pushed him over the edge, making him come hard inside you with a grunt. He didn’t slow down his fingers on your clit, and the feeling of him filling you up and the brush of his fingers, must’ve pushed you over the edge. Half a second later your hips stilled as Peter felt the frantic pulses of your orgasm milking his cock.

The feeling of you riding out your orgasm on his sensitive cock, clenching down on him as your body shook with aftershocks, it was almost too much, too intense for Peter. His breath came out in hard pants, and his body felt hot to the touch.

Peter didn’t know how much time passed as you both came down from your highs. It could have been three seconds or three hours. All Peter knew was that with you, he lost all sense of time. But this moment of bliss must come to an end. Everything is temporary, and someone must be the first to pull away.

On wobbling legs, you slid off his lap, sitting down next to him on the floor. You leaned back, grabbing your panties off the couch. Peter averted his eyes. The act was somehow too intimate to watch, even after what you two had just done. Instead, he busied himself with pulling his pants back over his ass, and tucking himself away, as a silence fell over the both of you. It felt heavy, loaded with questions he didn’t know if he wanted an answer too. After a few minutes a whisper left Peter’s lips, breaking the silence,

“I think I might be homeless”.

You didn’t answer right away, but Peter could hear your breathing change multiple times, like you were going to say something,

“I’m sorry”.

tagging some mutuals (this is so embarrassing): @hollandweather, @luciwritesstuff, @userholland, @t-lostinworlds, @silkscream, @sparklingsin, @logangarfield, @justapurrcat, @tomdutch, @devotion, @lnmp89, @mayal0pez, @melodicheauxxo-writes,

...

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x y/n #spider man x reader #spider man #tom holland #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #spider man smut #spider man fanfiction #mcu!peter x reader #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #*writing

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hanasnx · 5 months

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MINORS DNI 18+

PETER PARKER rewatches the show Futurama a lot. It’s the show he puts on in the background of everything. If he’s working on something and he’s sick of his music, he’ll throw it on. During his rare free time while he’s eating, he’ll watch whatever episode it’s landed on. And you find yourself fucking him while it plays on the TV more often than not. His own version of Netflix & Chill that’s become so prevalent that you can’t hear the main title theme song without thinking of sex. As if you’re a dog trained to salivate at the sound of a bell, you find yourself wet and particularly needy even hearing the song in completely casual contexts. Peter has no idea he’s done this to you.

#ch: peter #peter parker thought #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #spider man imagine #spider-man smut #peter parker x reader #spider-man x reader #peter parker x reader smut #spider-man x reader smut #peter parker headcanon #spiderman x reader #spiderman smut #spiderman imagine #peter parker fanfiction #spider man fanfiction #reader insert

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frogdottir · 1 year

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I FOUND THIS THREAD ON TIK-TOK???

#PLEASE SOMEONE WRITE THIS FANFIC??#oh wait #i write fanfic #hehe #spiderman #peter parker #peter parker and tony stark #irondad #spiderson #mcu fandom #mcu fanfiction #spider man fanfiction #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 author

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starlordsandrockets · 2 months

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One Bad Party

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+

word count: 6k

summary: After being broken up with at a house party, you return back to the compound at 3am to find Peter waiting for you.

a/n: Heyyy sorry I've been playing Baldur's Gate to escape my writers block. But here you go, feedback is appreciated bc I feel like this fic fell flat a bit??? Idk lol

There was only one question that kept crossing Peter’s mind whenever he saw you sneaking out of the compound to see your boyfriend: Were you sleeping with the guy?

Peter had no right to be this jealous. It was not like he had a chance with you. Peter tried, but he could barely hold a conversation with you without withdrawing into himself. He became a stuttering mess and before long he would find himself retiring, far too embarrassed to stay in the same room as you.

Peter looked up from his textbook. He was sitting in his dim room, studying at his desk. Or at least, he was attempting to study. The only thing running through his mind was the outfit you were wearing as you left the compound.

Your bare leg flashed past your large black coat as you brushed off a comment from Tony. A black satin slip could be made out, hugging your curves as you wrapped the coat’s fabric around you, wishing to hide yourself from Tony’s judging gaze.

The thought of you was pushed out of Peter’s brain as he pushed out his chair, rising to his feet. He needed to clear his head for a bit.

Peter found himself staring into the kitchen’s large fridge, eyes scanning his options without a single processing thought. He wondered if you were coming home tonight. Not that it mattered, it was not like there was anyone special to come home to. Reaching out, Peter grabbed a cold, glass bottle. Studying the label he shrugged before opening the beer. The cold glass pressed against his warm skin as he took a sip.

The alcohol could never affect his senses, unless he were to make sure of it, but he still liked the taste of beer. He winced after his next sip, second guessing himself. Glancing at the time, it was almost three in the morning and Peter found himself praying for your arrival to the compound. Clearly, he needed some air to push his clouded thoughts of you out of his head. Right?

“Friday,” Peter spoke quietly with his drink in hand.

“Yes Peter?”

“I’m going outside,” He informed the system.

“Of course, Peter. It is currently 40 degrees. I would recommend a jacket,”

“Thanks,” Peter smiled, hand finding a hoodie that he managed to leave in the lounge last night. How Tony had not thrown it on the ground in front of his bedroom door already was a surprise.

Opening the door, the cold air hit him, making him shiver slightly.

Peter remembered what you had on when you left, and he only hoped you were inside somewhere nice and warm. Placing his bottle down on the tiny porch’s only step, he took an awkward seat on the cold stone. He rubbed his hands together, now wishing he had made a warm cup of coffee instead. Placing the bottle against his lips, he tilted his head back. He studied the stars as he took a few large sips of beer.

“What are you Tony’s guard dog?” Your voice rang through his ears, taking him off guard. You watched him begin to choke slightly, “‘Cause you’re shit at it,”

“N-No,” His single word was separated by a heavy cough, “I couldn’t sleep,” Peter knew half a beer was not affecting him, but somehow he was feeling a little confident, “and I noticed you weren’t back yet so-”

“So you’re up playing parent?” You studied where he was spread on the step, blocking your way to the door. Sure, you could go around him, but you already stumbled your way up the compound’s extremely long driveway.

“No- I just- it’s so cold and I was remembering what you were wearing when you left and I-” Peter rambled below you.

“Please give me a break. I heard enough from Tony before I left and I sure as hell don’t want to hear it again, especially from you,” You shot back. Your words were almost flowing like vomit, slurring and sloshing out of your quivering lips.

“No- No I- Y/N,” Peter shook his head. Moving his hands, he attempted to stand up, however his arm knocked against his bottle. The glass fell against the stone, shattering almost instantly. Staring at it, he almost laughed at how it reflected the conversation that hung in the frigid air.

“You’re in my way and I’m cold, so please,” Your gaze fell to your pointy heels as you wrapped your coat’s fabric around you tightly. Closing your eyes you did not want to see Peter stumbling before you in response to your hurtful tone. However, you also did not want him to see the tears that were forming in your eyes, “goodnight,” You muttered, pushing the heavy door open.

“Y/N,” Peter called after you. He watched as you attempted to outrun him, however your imbalance twisted your ankles in your heels, “Hey-” He called out, reaching out, he steadied you as you began to crumble.

Inhaling, your stuffy nose played audibly, directing Peter’s gaze, “No,” You spoke defensively, “No- I’m not- it’s not. Peter,”

“What did he do?” Peter studied your face, “Your makeup- Before you left, you did that little thing you started doing,” He motioned to your eyes, “the little flick. And now it’s gone and your mascara is smudged under there-”

“Peter…” You stared back at him, confused as to why Peter would pay so much attention to you, if any at that. He was Spider-Man and you were Tony’s assistant who just got to live here because it was more convenient for the billionaire.

“No, because did he do something?” Peter questioned. His voice cracked slightly, making him clear his throat.

“Why do you care?” You questioned back, not sure where the question came from. Well, you knew because that is exactly what you were thinking. But, you were unsure as to why you were so blunt. Maybe you were still a little buzzed.

Peter’s hold on you loosened as the question passed through your lips. He could not confess to you, not now. He had thought of so many ways to tell you how he felt, and this was not one of them.

He studied your appearance. Your makeup was a ghost of the painted picture it was hours before, and your posture was folded in on itself, as if you wished the dark compound to swallow you and allow you to hide away, “Because I knew he’d do something,”

“Y-You,” You stuttered, “don’t even know his name,” Peter’s brown gaze was serious, and it was a look you had never seen him wear. You were never around for important missions, just to make small talk to him at the coffee maker or Tony’s stupid little lounge parties.

“Don’t have to,” Peter spoke, “if he treated you any better I feel like you would’ve mentioned him to someone. To Nat when you guys share your coffee in the morning or Mr. Stark would bring him up during his parties to embarrass you… or to annoy me,”

You did not address his last claim. You just wanted to go to your room and cry, “I’m just… I’m a private person,” You shrugged, not meeting Peter’s gaze any longer. You heard him laugh slightly, a short exhale passing through his lips, “what?”

“I just- My body doesn’t let me get drunk so you wouldn’t believe how much I know about everyone from Mr. Stark’s dumb parties,” He watched as you met his eyes once again, “Y-You,” He paused, your gaze stirring up butterflies, “You say a lot when you’re drunk,”

“Like what?” You pried, watching Peter smile slightly.

“That’s how I found out,” Peter spoke, “Mr. Stark-” He paused, remembering the night Tony had tried so hard to get the two of you together after finding out Peter’s crush on you, “he suggested spin the bottle,” He heard you scoff, “Yeah well, that’s when you refused to play because you ‘met a guy’ and it was ‘kind of serious’,”

“So,” You spoke, “We were,” The word slipped as your gaze froze.

“...Were?” Peter questioned.

“Peter,” You shook your head.

“What do you mean?” Peter pushed.

“Peter, I’m tired,”

“Did he break up with you?”

“It’s like 3am and I want to get this fucking dress and heels off,” You spoke over him, watching him freeze in front of you.

He could help you with that, “Sorry,” Peter spoke, “You don’t have to tell me,” Peter wanted to slip that dress off of you.

“It’s not,” You sighed, feeling guilty as if you kicked a puppy, “It’s not like we talk. You know? When’s the last time we had a conversation like this?” You watched as Peter’s posture straightened in front of you, but in reality it felt like he was about to crumble from your piercing words.

“Right…” Peter spoke, knowing when to take a hint. “Sorry,” He stepped aside, allowing you to claw at the straps of your heels. It felt as if he was letting you slip right through his fingers. Sure, he did not want to be a rebound but at this point, he did not want you to think he had no intention of ever speaking to you, “It’s not that I haven’t tried,”

“What?” You questioned, planting a bare foot on the ground. The heel hung loosely in your grasp as you stared back at him.

“I try to talk to you- A lot actually… but,” Peter specified, “I’m just not great at it- I mean, I’m not even good at it,”

You paused, as awkward silence fell after Peter’s words, “Okay,” You smiled slightly, “Well, maybe we can talk in the morning? Over breakfast? If I’m not hungover,”

“Right,” Peter smiled in defeat, “Sure,” He watched as you pressed your lips in an awkward smile, the lipstick that was once there was now faded. You slipped the other shoe off your foot before turning towards the hallway. You made your way a few steps down the hall to the elevator doors, leaving Peter to stare right at you from where you left him, “It’s because I like you,” He spoke, surely low enough.

The elevator dinged but you did not walk inside it, not yet. You were at a standstill, your brain processing Peter’s quiet confession. Staring into the bright elevator, you watched as the doors began to slowly close. How could Peter like you when you found out your boyfriend had been cheating on you? Why would anyone like you?

“You’re-” You mumbled, “You’re fucking with me,” Turning, you dared to meet Peter’s far off gaze, “Stop fucking with me,”

“W-What?” Peter stuttered, watching you walk closer to him.

“You’re Spider-Man,” You informed, watching his head tilt slightly out of confusion.

“...Yeah? Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?” Peter questioned, his eyes trailed all over your body, forgetting that you could see his every move.

“Why would you…” You wrapped your coat around you in response to Peter’s gaze, “I’m just Tony’s assistant,” You stopped in your tracks, not able to get any closer to Peter.

“Why would I?-” His question fell short as he realized you had heard his quiet confession, “Oh,” Peter watched you nod shyly, “Don’t… don’t you want to get out of your clothes?”

“What?” You questioned, feeling your face heat up out of embarrassment.

“No- No! God, I just-” Peter stammered, “You said you wanted to change- I thought you could do that and maybe like, take off your makeup and then we could talk. Or, or we could do that in the morning- if you’re not hungover,” He repeated your earlier claim.

“Yeah… yeah,” You spoke, “I’ll go- I’ll go change,” You nodded, lips pressed together, “but, could you help me? These heels killed my feet,”

“Yeah,” Peter spoke, “Yeah, of course,” He was hesitant, hands reaching out. Peter hand touched you before, when he caught steadied you moments before, but now it felt different. Now you know, “Here,” Peter took in a quick breath before he slipped your large coat off of your skin. You almost looked nude, the dress under your coat was small compared to the coat’s large exterior. He folded the fabric before he tucked it under his arm, “and I can carry those,” He reached out towards your shoes that hung off of your curled finger.

“Thanks,” You smiled to yourself. However, your smile soon faded to a blank expression as you felt Peter’s fingertips on the small of your back. His hand soon flattened and you swore you could feel his sweaty palm through your thin dress.

***

The two of you silently made your way through an awkward elevator ride and stumbled your way to your room. Peter opened the door, watching you slip past him and into the dark room. You let out a loud sigh of relief after Peter shut the door behind him, “What?” He almost laughed.

“Feels good to be home,” You replied, “That party was a fucking nightmare,” You smiled, your lips quivered as you felt tears threaten to spill, “I didn’t want to go. I shouldn’t have,”

“Y/N,” Peter said, approaching you, he gathered a handful of your dress’s fabric, “Remember what I said,” The tone of his voice drew your attention. You never heard that slightly dominant tone pass through his lips before, “We can talk after. Okay?”

“Mhm,” You hummed, lips pressed nervously, “Right,” He began to hike up the fabric, the cool fabric tickling your thighs, “Peter,”

He had started helping you without a second thought. Peter was completely lost in you, functioning on autopilot. Your words brought him back to reality, “Sorry- I,” He turned, facing the wall, “I’m sorry- I forgot I was done helping. I got you here,”

You slipped the dress over your hips and past your chest, “Yeah,” You broke the silence, “but,” That word made Peter turn his head in time to check a glance of your exposed skin. The dress’s fabric covered your face as you slowly slipped it over your head.

Could you see him staring? Peter took in the sight of your underwear and push-up bra for another second before turning his head back to the wall. His face must have been red. He felt his cheeks begin to grow warm. Peter also felt something else begin to grow and he hoped it was not noticeable.

“Could you help me?” You continued, now slipping a long, black night shirt over your skin. You wished you had anything else to wear to bed, anything sexier than an oversized shirt.

“Help with what?” Peter questioned, back still facing you. He watched as your room lit up a bit brighter from switching on the bathroom light.

“My makeup,” You almost groaned, “I’m too tireddd,” You placed your arms on the counter’s cool surface. Looking at your reflection you were reminded of the night you just had. Your mascara pooled under your lash line but you were still surprised Peter had noticed, “Peter,” You called out, hands covering your face, smudging your makeup even further.

Peter entered your small bathroom, taking in the space he had never seen before, “What’s up?” He watched as you blindly dug through one of your drawers. A pack of makeup wipes appeared in front of him as you leaned further onto the counter, a tired groan vibrating past your lips, “Okaaay,” Peter laughed, “Come’re then,” He took the pack, setting it down before he reached out. Turning you around, you faced him now. Your eyes were still closed from when you were rubbing your tired eyes, “Just one?”

“Mhm,” You nodded, finally opening your eyes. That is when you realized how close Peter was. You studied his hands as he peeled open the makeup wipes. His fingers were long and slender, making something in you stir. You focused on his fingers moving around the cloth in his large hands.

“Hey,” Peter spoke, taking hold of your face with his free hand, “I have to see your face to take the makeup off,” He laughed. The smile quickly faded as he studied your face in his hold, a look of embarrassment flooded his face. Peter realized not only how close he was to you, but was reminded just how pretty you were. Nervousness traveled up his spine, making him shiver slightly, “Right,” He spoke, clearing his throat as you stared back up at him.

His touch was gentle as he replaced his hand with the makeup wipe, making you jump, “cold,” you muttered, nervous at Peter’s closeness.

“Sorry,” Peter replied, rubbing the makeup off of your skin.

“Don’t look too close,” You laughed, “I’m not that pretty up close,” You chose your words wisely, not wanting Peter to think you were baiting for a compliment.

But that was exactly what was running through Peter’s head. Peter was trying to find the right words to say so he did not seem like he was as obsessed with you as he was, “I think you’re pretty,” Was all he managed to admit, watching your gaze snap right to his loving brown gaze, “I mean… I can move- if you think I’m too close,”

“You think I’m pretty?” You mentally kicked yourself as the cliche question slipped past your lips.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. Pretty was an understatement, “You’re probably the prettiest girl I know,” He tested the water.

“Nat and Wanda live here,” You spoke, “So I think you’re lying,”

“Nah,” Peter focused on your eyes, “Close your eyes,” He instructed, watching you do as you were told. He felt as if he should use this to his advantage, that way you could not affect him with your gaze, “I thought that since the day you got here. Plus, Nat and Wanda kind of scare me,” He watched you smile slightly.

“I don’t scare you?” You questioned, feeling his breath on your skin, making your lips press closed.

“A little, but in a good way,” He admitted.

“Yeah?” You laughed to yourself, eyes still closed, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Peter did not answer, he was far too embarrassed and lost in the thought of you. The ‘good way’ was that it turned him on, “There,” He finally spoke as he studied your cleaned face.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You spoke, however your words fell short as Peter dragged the makeup wipe across your mouth.

“Sorry- Missed a spot,” He teased, watching you stick out your tongue at the bitter taste of the wipe.

You made your way to the sink, washing your face with cold water. Peter stood silently behind you, studying you through the mirror. Or you assumed so, not daring to meet his brown gaze.

“Sooooooo… you want to talk about it now?” He finally questioned as you dried your face off on a soft towel.

“About the party?” You questioned, hanging up the towel, “Or… about what you said? Earlier,”

Peter’s head fell, studying his fingers that intertwined, absentmindedly, “W-Whatever… whichever you want to first,”

Walking out of the small bathroom, you placed a finger on its light switch. You stared at Peter, waiting for him to follow you, “Yeah… whichever,” However, Peter did not budge, “That party…” You started, “that paaarty was… the worst night of my life,” You laughed before switching off the light. Walking over to your bed, you fell back onto it. However, you regretted it, feeling the alcohol move around in your stomach as your head spun, “...fuck. I’m so fucking stupid,”

“You’re not,” Peter interrupted.

Raising your head, you stared at him for a moment before your gaze returned to the ceiling, “I knew he was talking to someone else. I mean, I suspected it. Turning the phone away when I was too close. Locking it as soon as I entered the room. The lying… I could tell by the mannerisms, by his facial tics,” You groaned, “But you know… ‘he was different’... I was just into him because he barely gave me the time of day unless we were fucking,”

Those words clicked in Peter’s head.

You were fucking that guy.

“The one time I mentioned him to Tony and he read him like a book and I just… God, I just didn’t want Tony to be right,” You somewhat laughed, “Because I hate it when he’s right,”

“You deserve so much better than that guy,” Peter spoke.

“What? I should be glad he fucking cheated on me? Glad that I showed up to the party, only to find him grinding on her ass and she was wearing the same fucking thing I was wearing?”

“Y/N,”

“What?” You heard the pity in his voice, “I don’t need you to feel bad for me-”

“I’m not- I just can’t believe anyone would do that to you. It pisses me off because if I ever had a chance with you I would never take advantage of it,” Peter admitted, “You’re way out of my league- and I bet you were for him too- and god if I ever fucked up like him I think I’d be the biggest idiot,” You stared back at him, a small smile sat on your lips, “...What?”

“You… actually do like me?” You questioned.

“Well… yeah,” Peter replied, red-faced, “I’m- I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out yet. I feel like I’m so obvious. Literally everyone here knows it,”

“I had no clue,” You almost laughed.

“Really?”

You both felt the mood shift, as Peter sat at the end of your bed, “Yeah… I don’t know. We hardly talked and when we do you always end up leaving… you know,” You rambled, staring at the ceiling, “I always thought I scared you or something, you know, because I just… don’t know how to talk to people really. Everyone I meet always goes off to tell someone they think I’m stuck up- Or if I don’t talk I’m a bitch,”

“I like hearing you talk,” Peter spoke, absentmindedly. Your eyes fell on him as he looked down at you, “You- You’re… interesting and really cool,”

“Y-Yeah?” You laughed somewhat at his awkwardness, “Well… thanks. You too- I mean, you’re cool…too,”

“I-I’m… not cool, like at all,” Peter looked surprised, “I’m super awkward and I like the dumbest stuff,”

“It's not dumb,” You picked up your head, “You’ll convince me to finish Star Wars one day,” You watched a grin curl his lips, “Really. I like it when you talk about stuff you like. I really like it,” You watched Peter’s hand move towards your face. His fingers brushed back some hair that sat out of place, “...My ex- Well he was always too cool to like anything. You know- one of those guys. He was too cool for everything…”

“How about we don’t talk about him anymore” Peter spoke. He stared at you, wanting to touch you. So he tested the water, running his fingers through your hair.

“Mhm,” You hummed in response, eyes closing with each pet of your head. Your eyes felt heavy as your body reminded you that it was probably around four in the morning.

“Do you want me to leave?” Peter questioned, catching a glimpse of your closing eyes, “so you can sleep,”

“No,” You admitted, “I want you to stay and keep touching my hair,” You heard Peter laugh from above you.

“Fine, but I need you to get on the bed more,” He stood up, waiting for you to position yourself on the bed from where you happened to just flop over.

You slowly got adjusted under the covers as you watched Peter walk towards your bathroom, “Is it okay if I use your bathroom?”

“Mhm,” You hummed again as you waited for him to return. You heard the light switch off as you felt your heart begin to beat faster at the idea of Peter sharing a bed with you, “You don’t mind staying, right? Is it weird?”

“No… I mean- do you think it’s weird?” He questioned, standing at the side of your bed.

“No,”

“Yeah… it’s fine then,” Peter almost held his breath as he entered your covers. He could hear your heart racing next to him, however it was almost overpowered with the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears.

Peter laid on his back as he felt you shifting by his side. He did not dare look your way, eyes fixated on the ceiling of your room as his eyes adjusted to the dark room.

“Goodnight,” You whispered from your spot next to him, feeling Peter’s body jump slightly from your quiet voice breaking the heavy silence, “sorry,”

“N-Night,” Peter replied, hearing you laugh to yourself from behind the sheets.

***

You stirred, as light from the room’s large windows broke your slumber. Your head was pounding as you tried to recall last night. That is when you remembered that the arm that was wrapped around you was Peter’s and not your ex’s.

Peter’s arm laid across your hip as you laid on your side, eyes staring at the wall, attempting to process what exactly unfolded last night.

You were not drunk. You remember every moment, but every moment felt like a dream.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Peter’s sleeping face.

Your gaze traveled across his soft skin, eyes bouncing from freckle to freckle. His lashes fluttered, looking as if he was still experiencing a dream.

Reaching out, you rested your hand on his side. You felt Peter pull you closer to him while he slept, “P-Pete,” You whispered, afraid of your morning breath.

“mmm,” Peter groaned as you shook him slightly, by his waist. You watched as he eventually stirred awake, “H..hey,” He spoke quietly, eyes barely open, “How’d you sleep?”

“Not as good as you,” You joked, as his hold on you tightened. Peter still drifted in and out of his sleeping state, “Since… you know. You’re all cuddled up next to me,”

“Hm?” He questioned, eyes finally opening, “Oh- Sorry,”

“It’s- It’s fine,” Your hand took hold of his shirt before he could attempt to move away from you. You stared at his face, his brown gaze refusing to meet your eyes. Every thought that bounced around your head told you to kiss him, hell, every cell in your body was inching towards him; grasp on the fabric pulling your bodies closer.

For a moment your gaze fell to his lips before your lashes fluttered shut, lips pressing against Peter’s for a forceful kiss.

Taken aback, Peter’s eyes widened before they squeezed shut as he attempted to hold back the lust that began to flood through him, “Hey- he- hmm,” Peter hummed against your lips as your kiss smothered any word that attempted to leave. He kissed you back, hands traveling underneath the hem of your shirt’s large fabric.

His sweaty palms traced your curves, studying you even behind closed eyes. Peter felt himself begin to be swept away, worried he would not be able to resurface. Pushing you away by your hip, he attempted to pull out from your hungry kiss, “Hey… Y/N,” Peter watched as your mood shifted almost instantly, looking as if your heart had shattered all over again from the night before, “No- no, it’s just- Y/N I won’t be able to stop,” Peter attempted to explain, “Y/N, I want you… I think about it more than I’d like to admit and it always ends up with me not being able to help myself…”

“I want you… Peter,” You thought for a moment, “I need you,”

“I don’t want to hurt you like he did… or worse,” Peter thought about his strength.

“You won’t. I know you wouldn’t hurt me,” You sat up, watching Peter roll onto his back. Picking up a leg, you swung it over his own, straddling his waist. You were never this forward, but you were always this desperate.

You always had feelings for Peter, you just never thought someone like him would reciprocate.

With that thought, you felt Peter’s hands grasp the plush skin of your thighs, “You- You’re sure?”

“Please,” You breathed out before Peter flipped you on the bed, pushing your face into one of the bed’s plush pillows. You felt as he hiked up the fabric of your shirt, exposing your panties to him. His dominant palm rubbed circles on the side of your ass before you heard him take a deep breath.

This time, it was time for you to take in a breath as Peter began to pull the fabric of your panties down.

You would be lying if you said you were not self continuous about Peter seeing your body for the first time in such an intimate way. The entirety of your last relationship had you on edge, hoping you were good enough.

Suddenly, the bunching fabric halted, making your breath stop as well, “Relax,” You heard Peter speak. Bending over your back, Peter planted a kiss on your ear, making you shutter.

“I- I just… he really messed me up I think,” You laughed to yourself, “so. So I don’t think you could ever hurt me more than him,” As the claim left your lips, Peter flipped you back onto your back, “Pete-” You heard the tearing of fabric as Peter, literally, ripped your panties off your legs.

He shifted down on your bed, ignoring your claims to the torn fabric. Peter’s heart was beating out of his chest as he grew closer to what was hidden behind the silky fabric. Placing his hands on your knees, he spread your locked legs, “Hey,” He watched as you locked eyes with him and that is when he felt a switch flip in him, “I don’t want to hear you talk about him anymore,” Your wide eyes stared back at him, “Okay?”

You nodded.

“I want to hear you say it,”

“Okay…” You mustered the courage.

“Okay? Okay what?” Peter’s fingers trailed along your skin. Closer and closer to your wet folds. His touch circled you almost teasingly.

“I won’t talk about him anymore,” You answered.

“Good,” Peter almost smiled, but there was a newfound cockiness behind his words. His thumb brushed against your clit, “Why shouldn’t you?”

“What?” You almost whimpered, wanting the teasing to end.

“Why shouldn’t you talk about him anymore?”

“I… I don’t know,” You spoke with frustration. However, Peter’s gaze made you think about giving a better answer, “Because… because I deserve better?”

“Is that a question?”

“No…” You whined as Peter gently thumbed your clit, however it was not enough, “Peter please,”

“Fine,” Peter smiled at your desperation. Lowering himself, he placed your legs over his shoulders. He took in the sight before him, fingers running through your wet folds, “You’re so wet... You like it when I tease you or something?”

“...No- it makes me mad,” You spoke, unfiltered, not wanting to focus on the fact that Peter was seeing your flaws so up close.

“I don’t know, I think you like it,” He spoke, inserting his index finger into you, watching you wither in front of him, “So pretty,” Peter spoke under his breath. He listened as you attempted to hold back a few quiet moans, “You sound so pretty… wanna hear you,” Curling his fingers, he hit you at a different angle, making your eyes roll, head rolling back into your pillow, “Yeah?” He almost laughed, “Right there?”

You nodded, knowing if you parted your lips, you would not be able to shut up. However, Peter had other plans, his fingers moving in and out of you even faster. “FFffuckk,” You moaned, eyes screwed shut, “Pete-” His name was cut short, interrupted by a louder moan as Peter’s lips found your clit. He gave it a wet kiss before his tongue explored you.

Your ex never did this, and if he ever did, the foreplay lasted only long enough to make sure you were wet for him. Mentally, you kicked yourself, finding your brain occupied by your ex even though Peter just told you to not talk about him, “Are you thinking about him?” You heard Peter ask like clockwork.

“W-What?” You stuttered, opening your eyes. Looking down, you meet Peter’s dominant gaze.

“You stopped moaning,” Peter spoke, “Your eyebrows are all… furrowed- and not in a sexy way,” He added an extra finger into you, hearing you moan at the action, “I can stop- If you’re not over him I’d rather stop than you think about him the whole time,”

“No- No… Sorry,” You breathed out, “I- I know you told me not to talk about him but- I… I was just thinking about how he never… he never did this,” You rambled as Peter’s fingers still pumped in and out of you slowly, “fffuck- and- and I just-”

“Guess I’ll have to make up for lost time,” Peter somewhat joked before his lips returned to your clit. He placed a wet kiss between your legs before he continued to pleasure you.

“Please,” You breathed out, almost relieved. You were relieved that you no longer had to beg for anything you deserved, because Peter was ready to give it to you instantly.

A shaking moan passed through your lips as Peter inserted a finger into you. He was slow at first, taking in your small, breathless moans; however he found his hunger for you growing.

He continued to work you with his mouth and finger, before inserting another digit. Pulling away from your heated skin, Peter spoke, “I wanna hear you say my name,” He breathed out.

“W-What?” You stuttered through your waves of pleasure.

“Wanna hear you say my name,” Peter repeated, “And I never want to hear you say his again,”

“Mm,” You groaned at his dominance.

“What was that?” Peter questioned, slowing his fingers that pumped in and out of you. It pained him to do so, he wanted to please you desperately, but he also wanted to prove his point.

“Yes,” You breathed out, “...please,”

“Please?” Peter questioned.

“Pleaseee,” You drew out, mustering the courage to speak his name in such an intimate setting, “Peter,”

“Good,” Peter’s lips curled into a subtle, cocky smile. His fingers found their previous pace before pumping even faster.

“Ff-fuck,” You moaned. You heard Peter hum in response, as if he was questioning you, “Peter,” You repeated his name. With that his smiling lips return to your clit, his tongue only increasing your pleasure, “I- I’m so close,”

“Need you to cum for me,” Peter spoke quickly before returning between your legs. He found a rhythm that made you a stuttering mess, and stuck with it.

“I’m- I’m going to cum,” You moaned, hand falling between your legs. Your fingers tangled in his soft, brown locks. Your hips jutted, meeting his tongue halfway with each thrust. You felt as if you were losing your mind, not sure when the last time you experienced this much pleasure was, “Fuck Peter- I’m-” Your words fell short as you came. Your eyes screwed shut as Peter continued to taste you. Waves of pleasure jutted through you, making your body twitch with each stroke from Peter’s tongue, “f-f fuck- too… too much,” You breathed out, hands trying to push Peter’s face away from you.

“Sorry,” Peter spoke, crawling up your body. He fell to his side, laying next to you on the bed, “How was that?” He watched your chest rise and fall as you attempted to catch your breath.

Small laughter fell from your parted lips as you realized just how long it was taking you to recover from the pleasure, “I… I haven’t felt like that in… well, in a long time,”

“And that’s a good thing? It was good?” Peter questioned, hoping that his attempt would make you forget all about your ex.

“No- Yeah,” You breathed, “I haven’t cum that hard in awhile,” You added, “Just… just give me a minute and we can keep going,”

“Keep going?” Peter questioned.

“Yeah. I mean, you’re probably really hard,” You spoke, “or… I hope you are,”

“Yeah,” Peter laughed, “I am. But we can stop,”

“Why?” Your head turned towards him from where you stared at the ceiling, “Do you not want me anymore?”

“What? No- I mean. I want you,” Peter spoke, “I really want you- but I. I want to take things slow… with you,” He studied your worried expression, “If that’s okay,”

“Oh… yeah,” You nodded, “I just. I thought you’d want me to return the favor,”

“Another time,” Peter spoke, “I’ll be waiting- but no rush,” He watched you laugh to yourself.

Peter was the kindest person you have met in a long time and it made you wonder why you even settled for anyone else.

“Fine,” You agreed, “but I thought you ‘wouldn’t be able to stop yourself’,” You almost teased, watching Peter roll onto his back next to you.

“Yeah, yeah,” He laughed.

“Yeah… so forgive me if I thought something was wrong,” You spoke sarcastically.

“I just- I didn’t want to do whatever he did,” Peter spoke, “Because I like you and I don’t just want to fuck you,” Peter spoke, “I just want you to understand that. And I want you to have time to get over him,”

“Thanks,” You spoke quietly, “...You wanna go make breakfast?”

#marvel smut #marvel fanfic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #marvel fic #peter parker fan fic #spider man fanfic #spider man fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman smut #spider man x reader #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader

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miellonek · 2 months

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Damian * completely serious * :Who taught you the art of combat? Answer me!

Peter : Your mom.

Damian * completely mortified * :Have you come to take me away?

Peter : What-

—-- Later —-

Damian : Father, I'm telling you he's a spy of the league.

Bruce : …

Dick *tries to explain what your mom jokes are*

Jason *completely pissing himself from laughter*

#dc x marvel #ao3 #dc x spider man #spider man #ao3 fanfic #peter parker #batfam #batman #dc x mcu #marvel x dc #peter parker x dc #batfam fanfic #spider man fanfiction

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qsphyxias · 10 months

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if you read yaoi and/or bl regularly as a woman, get the fuck out of here!

synopsis ; miguel x male! reader

warnings ; male reader, cussing, no spoilers from the movie other than his existence

note ; that movie fucked me up ong, what the actual FUCK MARVEL HAD NO FUCKNG RIGHT TO DO THAT WHAT?? WHY IS HE SO BEAUTIFUL I STOOD IN A HOSPITAL WAITING ROOM FOR 20 MINUTES WATCHING MIGUEL EDIT COMPILATIONS. ON YOUTUBE. oh fun surprise at the end

words ; 0.5k +

"that's odd." you spoke to no one in particular, your chin resting on the back of your hand as you examined the back of miguel's... well, his rear.

"great." miguel huffed, blinking away his concentration on the screens before him, "what is it this time, s/o?" he swivelled his abdomen slightly to glance at you. with a pose like that... arms crossed, hip turned in a 45 degree angle, and his head looking over his shoulder at you; you could only chuckle.

miguel, once unbothered, was now VERY bothered. what were you laughing at?

"what the— why do you look like you know something i don't?" this time, miguel fully turned around; you had his full, undivided attention now. with a hand held up to your mouth to conceal your shameless laughter, you stood still as miguel made his way towards you. he wanted to take a closer look at the, what you call, humour of the situation.

"i'm sorry, it's just... um." your hand dropped from your face to his shoulder. you used his sturdy, well... extremely sturdy bicep, as a stabilizer as you tried to break the news.

"... what?" he narrowed his eyes at you, suspicion clear in his voice.

in turn, you avoided his stare by looking at your thumbs; twiddling them. "nothing..."

"oh for christ's— spit it out!" resorting to slight violence, he shoved your shoulder lightly, pushing you against a wall (since when were walls in here?).

surrendering, you rose your hands. "i was just thinking about your butt! okay!?" you sulked, dropping your head on his chest. "i am only a man." your voice was muffled, by your shame was clear.

"you cannot be serious." he pulled your head back gently by the tufts of your hair, just so he could look at you.

"i'm sorry, but your suit... it kind of makes you look like a slut-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before a loud, audible gasp filled the Spider-Man's lungs.

"excuse me?" your boyfriend's beautiful baritone voice was tragically replaced by a shrill, lady-at-the-grocery-store sound.

you grinned at his offended expression, "what- aw, does my boyfriend not want me objectifying him?" you blinked at him and pouted, leaning against him as he scoffed grumpily at you.

miguel sighed and lifted his arm up pointedly, beginning his defence—you, in turn, you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his exposed waist. "just so we're clear; i'm not your boyfriend, you're MY boyfriend." completely desensitized to your PDA, he spoke confidently as if it was any different to what you just said; as if claiming property of a little gay boy was something to be proud of.

you could only pause, and stand in shock.

"..." you couldn't even look at him.

"..." all he was doing, was looking at you.

"i apologize. that sounded better in my head-"

"don't worry; i get it. you want me to be your boyfriend AND your pimp." before miguel could even think to catch you, you managed to sneak a satisfying squeeze on his left cheek before you started sprinting away, as fast as you humanly can.

"s/o, come back here!"

"totally worth it! you can't say that shit during pride month, miguel!"

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latenightreadingpdf · 16 days

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A Secret Unveiled - Peter Parker

Summary: Peter Parker, secretly Spider-Man, harbors feelings for his best friend Y/N, a passionate Spider-Man fan. As their friendship grows, Peter must decide whether to reveal his secret identity and hidden emotions.

The faint glow of the city lights illuminated the room, casting soft shadows over the study table where Peter Parker and Y/N sat. They had been friends since high school, and their bond had only grown stronger over the years. Y/N had always been a huge fan of Spider-Man, and she often wore her Spider-Man t-shirt with pride.

Peter had a secret, one that he had been keeping from Y/N for years. He was Spider-Man. He had developed feelings for Y/N during their high school years but had never found the courage to tell her the truth about his alter ego.

As they sat studying, Peter couldn't help but glance at Y/N's Spider-Man t-shirt. It was a simple design, the iconic red and blue spider symbol on a black background, but it meant the world to her.

"Hey, Y/N," Peter began hesitantly, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I couldn't help but notice your shirt. You're a Spider-Man fan?"

Y/N looked down at her shirt and smiled, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Oh, absolutely! I've always been a huge fan. Spider-Man is so cool, swinging through the city, saving people... I've even got a Spider-Man poster in my room!"

Peter's heart raced as he listened to Y/N's passionate words. He felt a mix of excitement and guilt, knowing that he was the very person she idolized.

"That's really cool," Peter managed to say, trying to hide his emotions. "I've heard he's a pretty amazing guy."

Y/N chuckled. "Oh, definitely! I wish I could meet him someday, thank him for all he does."

Peter swallowed hard, his mind racing. "You never know, Y/N. Maybe one day you'll get the chance."

The rest of the study session went by in a blur for Peter. He couldn't stop thinking about Y/N's love for Spider-Man and how she had no idea that he was the one behind the mask. As they said their goodbyes, Peter couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to tell her the truth, but fear held him back.

Days turned into weeks, and Peter found himself growing more and more infatuated with Y/N. Every time he saw her wearing her Spider-Man t-shirt or talking about her favorite superhero, his feelings for her intensified.

One evening, Peter swung by Y/N's apartment to return a book he had borrowed. As he entered the living room, he spotted Y/N wearing her Spider-Man t-shirt once again, this time paired with pajama bottoms.

"Hey, Peter!" Y/N greeted, her face lighting up with a smile. "Come on in. I was just about to watch a movie. Wanna join me?"

Peter felt his heart skip a beat at the invitation. "Sure, that sounds fun."

They settled on the couch, and Y/N hit play on the remote. As the movie began, Peter found himself watching Y/N more than the screen. Her laughter, her smiles, the way her eyes sparkled with excitement - he was completely captivated by her.

During a particularly intense action scene, Y/N turned to Peter with wide eyes. "Isn't this movie great, Peter?"

Peter chuckled nervously, trying to maintain his composure. "Yeah, it's pretty good."

Y/N's gaze lingered on Peter for a moment longer than usual, her eyes searching his. "You okay, Peter? You seem a little...distracted."

Peter swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks flush. "I'm fine, just enjoying the movie."

As the night wore on, Peter knew that he couldn't keep his secret from Y/N any longer. He needed to tell her the truth, no matter how scared he was of her reaction.

A few days later, Peter mustered up the courage to invite Y/N over to his apartment under the guise of another study session. As they sat at the kitchen table, books and notes spread out before them, Peter's heart raced.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," Peter began, his voice shaking slightly.

Y/N looked up from her notes, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What is it, Peter? You're acting really strange."

Taking a deep breath, Peter decided to take a leap of faith. "I'm Spider-Man, Y/N."

Y/N stared at Peter, her eyes widening in shock. "You're joking, right?"

Peter shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest. "No, I'm serious. I've been Spider-Man since high school."

A long silence filled the room as Y/N processed what Peter had just revealed. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't believe you."

In response, Peter quickly stood up from the table and moved to the center of the room. With a swift motion, he revealed his web shooters from his backpack, shooting a web across the room.

Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief as she watched. She felt a whirlwind of emotions - shock, confusion, and a strange sense of betrayal.

"You're really him," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling.

Peter nodded, slowly approaching Y/N. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Y/N. I wanted to protect you, but I realize now that keeping this secret from you was a mistake."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. "I can't believe I've been friends with Spider-Man this whole time and didn't even know it."

Peter reached out, gently wiping away Y/N's tears. "I'm still the same person, Y/N. I'm still your friend, Peter."

Y/N nodded, her gaze softening. "I know, Peter. It's just going to take some time for me to process all of this."

In the days that followed, Y/N grew more comfortable with the truth about Peter's secret identity. She began to see Spider-Man as an extension of Peter, understanding that the hero she had admired for so long was, in fact, the same person she had grown to care for deeply.

As their friendship blossomed, Peter found himself falling even more in love with Y/N. He cherished their moments together, whether they were studying, watching movies, or simply enjoying each other's company.

One evening, as they sat on Y/N's balcony, watching the sunset, Peter decided that it was time to take a chance and confess his true feelings to Y/N.

"Y/N," Peter began, his voice trembling with nervousness. "There's something else I need to tell you."

Y/N looked up, her eyes filled with curiosity. "What is it, Peter?"

Taking a deep breath, Peter mustered up the courage to say the words he had been holding back for so long. "I've had feelings for you since high school, Y/N. I've tried to hide them, tried to push them aside, but I can't deny them any longer. I'm in love with you."

Y/N stared at Peter, her eyes widening in shock. She had never expected Peter to confess his feelings so openly, and she felt a mixture of surprise, confusion, and joy.

"Peter," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. "I don't know what to say."

Peter looked down, his heart sinking. "I understand if you don't feel the same way, Y/N. I just needed to be honest with you, just like you were honest with me."

Y/N reached out, gently lifting Peter's chin so that their eyes met. "Peter, I... I have feelings for you too."

Peter looked into Y/N's eyes, his heart racing. "Really?"

"Yes," Y/N nodded, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

A warm smile spread across Peter's face, relief washing over him. Without another word, he leaned in and captured her lips in a gentle kiss. Y/N responded, wrapping her arms around him as they shared a meaningful and passionate moment.

From that moment on, Peter and Y/N's relationship blossomed into a beautiful romance. Despite the challenges they faced, both as individuals and as a couple, Peter and Y/N's love for each other only grew stronger. They learned to trust each other completely, knowing that they could face anything as long as they had each other by their side.

And so, as the sun set on another day in the city, Peter and Y/N sat together on the balcony, holding hands and looking forward to a future filled with love, understanding, and endless possibilities.

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literaila · 1 year

Text

the luckiest

part one.

summary: you consider yourself a generally unlucky person, but when you meet peter parker it becomes even more apparent that the universe hates you.

warnings: past trauma, death, grief, self-conciousness, there’s a fire, and spider-man, fluff, angst, all that

a/n: so technically i lied because it’s 3 in the morning. but here you go. disreguard all of the bad parts until i have a chance to go throw and fix it tomorrow. love ya

the weekend after peter came over to your apartment, you were filled with the overwhelming realization that he was your friend.

that he wasn't going to put a label on it, and neither were you, but he still meant a lot more than you'd intended. more than you could've expected.

and he had your number now, so he was texting you.

he was asking you how long you'd be able to survive on the leftovers he'd forced you to keep. telling you that he could feel you falling out of bed from his house.

he was there, even when he wasn't.

and you loved it. you laughed at every message he sent you, felt your chest ache every time his name appeared at the top of your screen. when he asked you what you were doing for the rest of the weekend...

you wanted to respond seconds after every message. you wanted to eagerly joke with him, scold him for thinking so little of you.

you really wanted to be peter's friend.

but the past had a hold on your heart, and it tightened every time you felt any sort of admiration for him. any desire.

so you couldn't be. and you ignored his texts.

it wasn't often that you really thought about it.

you tried to keep the memories out of your mouth, the guilt out of your chest, and the words away from your head.

you tried so hard to just forget everything that had happened. everything that you'd done.

but the images flooded your mouth like water.

they took up any capacity to breathe, any sense of control you might have had.

and you knew, you knew that it wasn't fair for you to try and forget. that there were people--so many other families--that could never forget. that would live with your mistake, your happenstance for the rest of their lives.

and you tried not to think about it.

not to count the days since all of it had happened. not to track the years since it'd started.

but it was three years since you'd mistakenly walked into that building.

three years since you'd allowed yourself to sit comfortably within the public eye and not watch everyone else.

two years since you'd had a friend.

it was easy to push people away. when you were so angry at yourself that you couldn't stand to be talked to, that you had no more idea how to laugh, or want to care about the people you loved. when you started pushing people away, they let you.

and if they pulled at all, they'd come to learn that you were a lot stronger.

so, now, three years later and almost a year into your tragic decision-making, you hadn't wanted to think about how much you'd been craving.

intimacy, in any capacity. someone to laugh with besides yourself.

someone to look at and understand.

to watch the flicker of someone's eyes and be allowed to ask about it, to know what they were thinking about.

you hadn't had a real friend in three years.

there were your old neighbors that invited you to parties, brought you leftover desserts, and flowers when they'd heard what happened.

the girls that had offered themselves up willingly, just if you needed anything.

and then you moved.

in the last year, you'd spoken to hundreds of people. you'd thanked every person that held a door open for you, said excuse me every time you walked by someone just a bit too close. you laughed at strangers' jokes while waiting in line for lunch. you'd said happy birthday to your coworkers.

but you hadn't said a thing to any one of these people.

you hadn't reached out and stuck yourself to them, like some type of syrup, wanting to seep into their pores and discover the very being behind all of these words. you hadn't latched your claws onto anyone, hadn't wanted to.

but peter.

peter was just an accident. he was a man who hated you, and that was okay. but as soon as that shifted into something else--like tolerance--you'd crossed the line.

you probably should have quit as soon as jameson called the two of you partners. you should have left then, but selfishly, you liked this job too much and were too comfortable to even think about walking out the door.

just another mistake you'd wound up making.

and now you were stuck; because peter was something else. he wasn't just a partner, or an acquaintance at work, or a boy that made you laugh sometimes, and texted you about the people at work when you weren't around.

he was hard and strong, bitter and bold, but so incredibly soft.

and you wanted to push him. you wanted to poke and prod at him until you left bruises.

it was your own fault for letting this need, this sort of desperation build for so long.

you'd like to believe that peter is just a coincidence. that you couldn't control who you got along with, and it wasn't your fault that he was funny or intimidating, or incredibly beautiful. you couldn't control that.

and you tried not to think about it.

but like every other time, every other mistake you consistently made--it was your fault.

you knew that.

there was a day when you stayed late in the office.

overtime wasn't a thing at the bugle, but being reprimanded for turning something in late definitely was. and you'd been... slightly distracted the past couple of weeks.

so you're sitting in the dark--with only the flashlight on the phone to find a spare pencil--typing to yourself, and humming.

you'd moved from the cave, as wonderful as it was, to sit in a comfy chair that one of your coworkers had spent way too much money on.

but no one else was there, so you don't think they’re going to mind.

you're going over your own writing, trying to answer emails, and fix any mistakes you'd left behind all at once. you don't want to head home, with all of those people as collateral damage, so sitting here with your computer in your lap wasn't a bad way to spend the night.

it was almost calming. if the building sunk into the ground, you’d be the only one there:

but about forty-five minutes into this, the elevator chimed.

and you knew enough about this building--about the stabilizing structures, the pillars, and columns that kept the walls standing, the schedule of every person that worked here--to know that it wasn't just a janitor coming to clean. you’d studied the floor plan in many reckless hours, and gotten a copy of the building records. you could trust yourself on this.

and besides, jameson believed in taking responsibility for your own messes, which means avoiding the bathroom at all costs.

so, you look up, dimming the light on your computer. it was stupid of you to move from your desk into the open office space, but the back support was a little too good to pass up.

you bite your lip while you wait for someone to walk around the corner.

luckily, you're met with hanging limbs, a t-shirt and jeans, and completely messed up hair.

peter, with all of his casual walking and leaning against walls and coming into the office at six.

he doesn't seem to notice you there, even though you're right in his eye line. he's groaning to himself, bending down to stretch his back, and trying to fix a shoe that slipped off.

he was completely oblivious. but you sort of appreciated the moment you’re allowed to stare.

a moment to notice how disheveled your usually calm, usually controlled coworker was.

you squint at him, testing to see if you're just hallucinating.

but peter is moving around in the dark. he's grabbing something off of his desk--you hope--and being almost perfectly silent as he does it.

and then, as soon as he finally slips his shoe back on, he looks over to you.

"mother hubb--" he gasps while holding a hand to his heart. "why are you sitting in the dark!?"

you lean back in the chair, crossing your arms. "why are you jumping around the office like a college student waking up at someone else's house?"

"first of all--"

you smirk at him.

"i don't like that comparison. second of all, i forgot something here, and i need it."

"what'd you forget?"

peter's face falls--or at least, that's what you think you see in the dark. and then he looks over to his desk, mouth opening, and closing as he reaches for something. "my--my water bottle."

you blink at him. "you needed to come back for your water bottle? it was that important?"

"it's an emotional support thing," peter shakes his head, frowning and scratching at his neck. "i don't need to explain this to you. what're you doing here?"

"working."

"it's 6:11."

"some of us have actual deadlines."

peter scoffs, grabbing his water bottle off of the desk, and walking over to you. "this isn't your chair."

"i'm borrowing it. this is good representation of teamwork."

peter sits down in a chair next to you, getting far too close for comfort. "what are you working on?"

he turns your computer towards himself, scrolling with his ring finger and thumb.

"it's just some mistakes i need to correct."

peter frowns. "this is the article for the bakery on 51st."

you nod.

"this isn't due for at least another week. jameson hasn't even asked me or any of the other photographers to get a cover image."

"well, i like to be on top of things, peter," you say, stealing your computer back. "i'm sure that's very unfamiliar to you."

"why are you here, kid? you don't need to be working on this."

and his words are soft and considerate, but all the same, they feel like ridicule. the judgment coming out of peter's eyes reminds you of a particular day from months ago.

"why are you here, peter?" you ask, frowning. "you could've gotten that tomorrow. you hate this place, why would you bother coming here when you don't have to?"

peter clears his throat, pushing his chair away from you, and tapping his feet against the floor.

you recognize this move now--now that you've known him for months and actually heard the thoughts coming from his head. he's stalling. or trying to come up with something to say.

doesn't matter. you just know that he's hiding something.

"it's not that bad. i just... needed to get out of the house, i guess. needed to get out of my head."

and even though you're almost sure he's lying, you nod. if anything, you can completely understand that. even his presence here, you know, is a bit nerve-wracking.

"so you came here?"

at that peter hits your foot with his. he's smiling that half-smile. "well you're here, aren't you?"

you almost have to close your eyes.

"you didn't know i would be here."

peter tilts his head. "maybe i was hoping."

and then he stands up, closing your computer for you. "c'mon," he whispers to you, breath just inches away from yours. "you can work on this tomorrow. i'll even help if you want."

you laugh at the idea.

but peter ignores it. "let's go get something to eat. if you're gonna work on anything tonight let it be your eating habits."

"i don't appreciate that," you tell him, but stand up anyway.

and when peter walks out, so do you.

monday morning, you wake up to your first alarm.

your eyes open and you stare at the ceiling, wondering when this had happened.

when you'd stolen your own control right out of desperate hands.

and you wait in bed, for an hour, as each alarm chimes; loud and broken. you stare at the ceiling and allowed yourself to feel bitter.

and then you got up out of bed and left the house thirty minutes early.

it was completely unnecessary to be at work before the sun could, but you couldn't sit at home and wait.

so you sit at your desk, watching the water leak from the ceiling.

you know that this isn't just a strange morning, and you hadn't just felt like getting to work early. what you really wanted--want--was to avoid peter. to not have to walk past his desk and whisper good morning to him.

you want to act as if you'd never done any of that in the first place.

but you can't make peter feel the same, and you don't want to.

so when he comes up to your desk around eleven, smiling and tapping on the back of your computer, you have to look up.

you meet amorous brown eyes, honeysuckle, and driftwood.

peter tilts his head at you, asking you a question without asking.

last week you would've been overjoyed.

but today, your eyes sting.

"peter," you say, "hey."

you watch his face twitch, and he almost frowns but seems to catch himself before he can.

"what are you working on?" he asks, coming to lean over you so he can stare at your computer.

and so he can make you feel even more claustrophobic than you already had.

"i'm covering for lindsay and finishing an article for her."

"does jameson know that?"

"yes, peter, i don't offer my talents for free," you say softly, trying not to feel his breath on your neck or his eyes on the side of your face.

he chuckles in your ear, almost inaudibly. "have you eaten lunch yet?"

you turn towards him--mostly to get away from his proximity and to force him to stand up--and shake your head. "no. no, i haven't had time."

peter's eyes are bright and foreign. "do you want to come with me to get some coffee at smooth brew? i didn't sleep great last night, and the mediocre company-supplied coffee isn't cutting it."

you take a deep breath in. you're looking at him because you can't look away. and you can see the circles under his eyes, the slight yellowing of his skin in certain spots. the scar he has under his chin.

you're trying not to frown.

peter is smiling at you. he's smiling that smile that you can't actually believe exists, that feels simultaneously wrong and right on his face.

the smile you've only seen him give you.

and then you sigh. "can i--" you stop, swallow, tell yourself that this isn't worth it. "can i take a rain check? i'm supposed to finish this by the end of the day, and jameson keeps nonchalantly walking by my desk."

"was he whistling?"

"twinkle twinkle little star."

peter's smile falls just enough for you to notice. "ouch, " he says, leaning back and walking around your desk. "that's okay, some other time."

"sorry," you add, like a squeak. and then you mentally berate yourself.

"don't worry about it," he whispers. then tilts his head, still observing you. "do you want me to bring you something back? a latte?"

his hand is out and reaching toward you, he's trying to climb his way back in.

but you'll be damned if you lose peter just out of desire.

"no, that's--" you smile at him, fake and wide. "thank you, peter, but no. i'm okay."

"okay, well..." he blows a breath out, taking a few steps back. "don't work too hard. and don't let jameson see your candy stash."

"never."

peter grins at you for just a moment, and then he walks away.

on tuesday, your chest hurts so bad that you can't take a deep breath.

your limbs laugh and laugh, and your head pounds to the rhythm of someone else's heartbeat.

you call in sick, deciding to give up.

on wednesday, when you wake up you have an email from jameson, notifying you that you'll be taking over an interview for cathy--who apparently, has hay fever--and going to the art museum.

he tells you not to bother to come into the office, and that he'll lighten the article load for the rest of the week so you can get everything done.

he's not asking.

so, you're interviewing with the director of the art museum about a new monet exhibit, and you're going to be accompanied by everyone's favorite photographer.

peter parker.

"hey, kid," peter says, as you fiddle with the visitor badge you're supposed to be wearing.

you don't typically handle giant, public places well.

"hi," you mutter, trying not to look around.

but the museum is huge. it's long and wide and there are so many walls, so many different pillars that could fall on you any moment.

you try not to let it show on your face, how nervous this is making you. you wonder if you could ask the lady at the front desk for a building layout.

wonder if jameson has teamed up with the world to ruin your life.

"you okay?" peter asks, nudging you with his arm.

"what?"

"where'd you go?" he says, amused.

"oh, i'm--just, i didn't get a lot of sleep last night. sorry."

peter laughs and begins to walk up some stairs--stairs. "don't apologize to me. you going to be okay during the interview?"

"yeah, cathy already had a list of questions prepared, so..."

peter shakes his head, looking back at you. "no, i meant, are you feeling alright?" he stops, studying your face and your eyes and every inch of your skin. he's practically burning you. "you were gone yesterday."

"i didn't feel very good. i'm better today."

"you sure?"

you nod, looking away from him, and then you step past him and begin walking up the stairs.

he can take pictures and you can take notes.

it doesn't have to be anything more.

peter waits for you to pack up so you can both walk out together. he's smiling when you look towards him, gesturing towards the hallway you might've come from.

you're hoping that he knows the way out of this maze because you definitely don't.

"how'd it go?" he asks you after you've been walking for a minute or two.

"oh, um, okay, i think. cathy's questions were a bit unorthodox--"

"'do you think monet would appreciate his art being displayed in your museum?'" peter mocks, recalling one of many slip-ups you'd made earlier.

"yeah," you snort. "so i had to improvise. but i don't think they'll be calling jameson about any problems."

"except for when you almost ripped that painting in two."

you scowl, not appreciating his reminder. "i tripped."

"into something that costs over a million dollars. probably more."

"it didn't break," you excuse, glaring at him and walking in front.

but peter catches up because his legs are abnormally long, and he's bumping into you every couple of steps, his hand brushing your arm, his shoulder grazing yours.

he's so close, but you couldn't feel any farther away.

and you know that you shouldn't, but you can't really stop yourself from asking, "get any good pics?"

peter raises a brow at you--which you are definitely not looking at. "nothing new, obviously, but some of them will work. i have to go and edit out all the people walking by."

"even the man with the parrot on his shoulder?"

peter stops walking, turning towards you. "wait. that was an actual person? not just another display?"

you laugh and peter smiles and everything feels fine.

and so ridiculously wrong.

you're quiet for a bit, trying not to think about the ceiling collapsing on you both, or the bridge you're walking on beginning to crack. you're keeping track of the nearest fire exits, and looking for rooms you could hide in if anything happens.

because it might.

you try to keep this indiscreet, only looking behind you every few minutes or so.

peter clears his throat. "do you want to go get something for lunch? there's a good diner just around the block."

you squeeze your eyes shut. this is another hand held out, another thing peter wants you to grab onto.

but there's that pounding in your ears, that heartbeat that you can't let fade.

and you'd like to explain to peter that he should keep his distance. that you can't do this with him, and that it's all of your fault. you want to apologize for letting it get this far.

instead, you say, "i have to go edit an article that i was supposed to be doing today."

"oh, okay." peter nods his head and doesn't say anything else.

you let him walk ahead of you, praying that nothing will happen as long as he gets out first.

and then you leave him behind.

that night, you finish editing the article that you and peter are supposed to work on that week.

you write descriptions and attach them to the file peter sent you with his pictures.

and then you email jameson, telling him that you can't make it to work for the rest of the week.

your hands are shaking and your apartment suddenly feels much too large for you to be in.

suddenly unsafe for every other person that lives here.

you close your computer and crawl under your covers.

and you try to sleep but you keep hearing them scream in your ear, blaming you.

your eyes are stuck in one place when you hear the knock on the door.

they are picturing a girl falling from a cliff, a boy riding his bike, a mother screaming, and a child crying.

you keep hearing someone whisper in your ear, someone begging for your help.

but all of this is interrupted when someone pounds on your front door, shaking the walls and causing you to really open your eyes.

you're thinking to yourself that they'll probably leave if you don't answer--that they'll walk away and you'll be alone again--but then you're thinking about falling down the stairs, about having no one to help.

and so you get out of bed, feeling yourself shake with the effort it takes.

you answer the door, uncertain of what you're expecting.

but it's definitely not brown eyes, not a frown that you've come to covet in more than just dreams.

you suck in a lazy breath, feeling your lungs freeze. "peter. what are you doing here?"

even you can hear how labored your voice is. how damaged and rotten it's become in its misuse.

peter is wincing, and you don't know what else you're supposed to say. maybe neither does he, because instead of answering your question or greeting you with a casual smile he's become more comfortable with, he just walks right past you.

into your apartment--the one place you're supposed to be safe.

even just being in the same room with you, breathing the same air, and seeing the same images feels dangerous.

peter is scanning the area. he's looking around like he can't stand to look at you.

but then he does. "what's going on?"

his voice is rough and his words are fast.

you can't let yourself meet his eyes. "what?" you whisper, looking back to the door.

you could just leave. you could walk out and keep him away forever.

"what is going on?" he repeats, but sternly. like a parent lecturing a child.

you bite the inside of your cheek. "peter, i don't..." you shake your head, eluding the idea of anything being wrong. there's nothing wrong except for the fact that he's in your apartment. staring at you.

seriously staring, because his brown eyes are burning a hole in your smile. they are ruining every ounce of control you still have. "what happened?"

these words are softer. a parent concerned.

you shake your head, brows furrowed. "nothing happened, i'm just--"

"what did i do?"

you swallow, confused and broken and terrified of his voice.

peter is in your apartment. he just won't let go.

"i've been--" he runs a hand through his hair. "i've been trying to remember. trying to think of what happened last week, or the week before, but i can't--"

he looks at you.

his eyes are haunted by something that you put there. a ghost that you've given him.

"i can't think of anything. we were--just, just fine. we were laughing and teasing each other and i thought that." peter stops, closing his eyes. he licks his lips and looks at the ceiling. "i don't know what i did. but whatever it is, i need you to tell me."

"peter..."

his face is concerned and his shoulders are tense as he looks at you. "i need you to tell me so i can fix it."

and all you can think about is whiplash as a car hits a sign. the feeling of snow covering your lungs. all you can see is a woman with tears running down her face, and a hand that can't move. a building that can't stay up.

you're not sure what to do. how to get him away from all of this before it goes too far.

you can't talk to him, and you can't be around him, and you can't keep looking at his lips like they're something you deserve--

"there's nothing to fix, peter," you whisper, repeating the words to yourself. "you didn't do anything."

i did.

"then why are you avoiding me?" peter says, shaking his head. "why aren't you coming to work?"

you look at the ground, thinking about it falling while you're both standing there. you scratch your neck, rub your eyes. "i'm not avoiding you. i just haven't been feeling well, and i, well, i'm not sure what's wrong. but it's probably contagious so--"

"then why haven't you called me back?" he whispers, but bitterly. "why didn't you come to smooth brew yesterday? why didn't you let me know that you were going to be gone?"

you sigh. "i forgot, peter, i'm sorry.”

"you didn't forget," he argues, and his breath matches yours. his sighs sound so familiar. "you're still avoiding me. you won't even look at me. so, just tell me what's going on. whatever it is--"

"there's nothing, peter, just..." you stop, staring at the ceiling in hopes that it might disappear. "just nothing."

you think about swallowing your lies until they suffocate you.

there's just so much.

peter is staring at you. he is waiting for something more.

"thank you for checking on me," you whisper, after a moment. "i appreciate it. but honestly, i just need some sleep, so you should probably go."

"are you serious?" peter asks, and it doesn't even sound mean. it doesn't sound like any voice you've ever heard from him. something desperate. "have you looked in the mirror at all? have you seen yourself?"

"of course, i've--"

"because you look like a ghost. you look like half a person. your eyes are glazed over, and i'm not sure that you're even listening to me. you look like a statue."

beautiful and wrong.

"peter, i don't know what you want from me."

he clenches his jaw. "i want you to talk to me, y/n. i want you to tell me what's going on, and stop pretending like i don't know you, or i don't care about what you're going through. you think it's easy to watch this? to know that something is going on but that you can't trust me enough to tell me?"

"i trust you."

"then tell me how to help," he pleads. "tell me what i can do."

"nothing, peter," you finally crack, eyes meeting his, heart clenching around something that has never been yours. "i can't do this. i can't--i can't, peter."

he's frowning. he's the same man you met nine months ago. "you can't what?"

"i can't do this. whatever this is, whatever we--" you gesture between the two of you with a hand that isn't yours. "i can't do it. i won't."

"you can't do us?" peter repeats, his voice almost stagnant.

the air has stopped moving, and it's your fault. it's all your fault that he's here, that he's looking at you like you've just stolen something important from him.

"i can't do this with you. i can't be your friend or anything else, and i can't have you here right now. i can't let you be here."

you can hear a little girl screaming. you can see a woman you don't know falling.

"why not?" peter asks, no fight left. "what can't you do?"

"i can't let you get hurt because of me."

peter's face goes blank. his eyes stop. "what?"

"peter, if something happened to you, if anything happened--" you stop, shaking your head. "i can't watch that. i can't be there."

he takes a step toward you, hand reaching out like it always does. "what do you mean?"

you take a step back. this dance is one you're familiar with. you trip over your own feet.

"remember what you said about me, that day at the coffee shop?"

peter blinks at you, shaking his head.

"you said that danger was attracted to me. that i was reckless," you swallow, looking at the door like it might call to you. "you're always saying that i'm reckless.

"what does that have to do--"

"you're right, peter. being around me is reckless. being around me is dangerous."

he's frowning. he waits a couple of seconds like the words might start to make sense. "no, it's not."

"really?" you laugh, throat raw and hurting. "how about you talk to any one of the people that i've killed, then? you might want to ask them if you're so sure."

peter stops.

"when i was five," you continue, walking towards him, "me and a girl from my neighborhood were playing tag. we were running around a glass table, and she slipped and cut her arm open, shattered her elbow."

you take a breath in, listening to the voice in your head begging you to keep going.

"and then when i was eight, a classmate got a concussion while we were sledding. i was in the front, but he hit his head.

"when i was ten a friend's parents were driving me home from a sleepover and we hit a sign. all of them--my friend, her mom, her dad--had to go to the hospital. her dad, who'd been driving, was in the icu for three weeks. but i was fine."

peter's mouth opens, but you stop him before he can interrupt.

"ithe older i got, the worse it was. my mom died when i was thirteen. she had appendicitis. she was so busy taking care of me, making sure that i was fine, that she ignored the stabbing pain in her abdomen. she thought it was just indigestion. her appendix burst on the way to the hospital."

you stop, looking around your apartment, at bare walls and ghosts of people that still follow you. "my dad died a couple of years ago in an oil rig accident. i'd gone to see him that day."

peter is staring at you. he is breathing. and he doesn't say anything, because maybe he doesn't need to. maybe he already understands what you're trying to say.

maybe he should run out the door right now.

"you called me clumsy. and i am, but i'm also incredibly unlucky. it rains when i go outside, the power goes out when i walk into the building. i get the worst desk in the office, with a leaky ceiling. i get sent the wrong email about a meeting and walk in late."

"none of that--"

"all of these things, peter, they're not coincidences. eventually, when so many bad things happen to the people you love and not you, you have to look for a common factor."

"and you think it's you," peter finishes. "you think it's your fault."

you shake your head, and there are tears in your eyes. "i know it is. because it's not just the people i know and care about. three years ago, i went to see a movie. and in the middle of it, i decided that i wanted to leave. that it wasn't good enough to stay for. it was april, one of the days that electro attacked the city. i left the building right before he could do anything. i was standing there while everyone still in that movie got electrocuted."

you can't look at peter, but you can feel him there. you can feel his presence like a knife in your back.

"i need you to go, peter. because whatever sort of bad fortune i am, i won't let it happen to you too."

peter makes a noise. "it's not your fault that any of that happened," he says, "you couldn't control any of that--"

"exactly. i can't control it. that's why i stay away from everyone in the office, why i show up late, and why i've been staying away from you. if i'm around, and something bad happens..."

peter is right in front of you, he is taking your hand, leaning down, and cradling your cheek. "nothing bad is going to happen," he promises. "i would rather have you and the risk of breaking a few bones than not have you at all. anything else."

but just like you can't trust yourself, you can't trust peter to understand.

so you push him away, feeling barren and cold inside. the voice in your head is gone. the images have faded away. "i'm not going to let you do that. i won't."

"i'm stronger than you think--"

"peter, i appreciate you caring so much. and listening. and just... being here. but i couldn't mean it anymore when i say that i need you to go."

you meet his eyes, poison trickling down your face. "please."

and then you walk away, back to your cave, and leave peter standing in your apartment, all alone.

it's for the best.

you have to go to work on monday.

if there's one thing you want, it's this job that you like. that you're good that. that you can do without worrying about it.

and you can't lose another thing right now.

you can't.

so you go to work on monday, wearing clothes that scratch your skin, watching people with a bitter feeling in your chest.

any one of them, you think, all of them get to make friends and be around boys they like and...

all of them.

but you sigh anyway, go back to your desk, and sit there. you don't think about peter.

you don't deserve that.

"oh thank god," is the first thing you hear when you walk into the breakroom.

you've been staring at your feet all the way here. you've been trying not to look at peter's desk. trying not to find his eyes and accidentally smile like you would’ve last week.

the floor needs to be vacuumed.

but now you look up, frown on your face. there are three women there, all older than you, all mostly nice.

beth, jade, and rita.

and they're all staring at you.

you clear your throat. "sorry?"

one of them laughs. jade. "we were just talking about you and that young man. we're just glad you're back, finally."

"oh. thank you?"

"honey, he's intolerable as it is, but when you're gone he's a nightmare."

you frown, blinking at all of them. but the other two are nodding. "peter?"

"who else? on friday he almost broke the fridge trying to get his lunch."

beth chimes in. "on thursday he kept slamming the drawers at his desk. i could feel it from my desk. all day, just opening and closing. i genuinely thought he was going insane."

"yeah, he was at the copier while i was picking up a fax from an office downtown, and gave me the nastiest glare i've ever seen. and i don't even think he noticed that he was doing it."

jade laughs again, looking back to you. "that boy is polite enough, but we all know to avoid him whenever he's around."

you swallow, stumbling over some words. "that--that doesn't sound like peter."

all three of them laugh, creating their own chorus.

"well, of course, you would say that."

"yeah, he adores you!"

"you're the only person i've ever seen him smile at."

you take a step back, suddenly not hungry, suddenly not wanting to be at work at all. "what?"

and then they laugh again.

you're rushing out of the building at one.

jameson called you into his office--and by that, of course, he emailed you to come in. and then he asked you why the hell you were still there, and not at the exploration building, interviewing the president of the experimental medicine about the new nerve generator.

which, obviously, you didn't know about.

but jameson says peter is waiting, and you're out the door.

you're walking to the building, only a couple blocks away from the office, and thinking about how you're not supposed to be doing this.

you can't believe that you're covering for another coworker.

but you go anyway because you don't want to leave peter hanging. because you can't not go.

and when you walk into the building, you can see him there, waiting with his camera in hand, tapping his foot anxiously.

his backpack looks out of place between all of the briefcases.

he sees you too, but he doesn't wave.

"hey," you say, walking up to him. your voice is an out-of-body experience. "sorry i'm late."

"we're supposed to be on floor fifteen in two minutes."

and then peter walks away, leaving you to stand there, watching him go.

you and peter aren't making eye contact.

you're standing right across from each other, listening to this very smart, very nice man explain to you how all of the testing works in the building, and something about dna that you don't understand. but you're looking at peter.

and you're not really listening. your hand is writing down his words, but your mind is on brown eyes and flickering glances.

this isn't fair, you're thinking. there's a sting in your stomach, the punishment of double standards.

"wanna see the lab?" dr. hazzen asks, and you smile and nod.

peter is taking pictures of the wall.

you follow this man and your instincts, and you're standing right next to him. you can feel his body warmth, you can feel his aggravation from two inches away.

peter smells sweet. like some sort of candle you'd light in your house to get rid of everything else.

he's not smiling today. you're not missing it.

it's only a couple of minutes later when he finally looks at you, his eyes wide, his hands immediately falling inches above your waist.

the fire alarm has gone off. the sprinklers in the building are drenching you, and making peter's hands feel like an itch you can't scratch.

"what?" you look up, then down, then towards the door. "dr. hazzen, is that normal?"

"i'm sorry to both of you," he answers, looking towards the door. "my assistant will show you the way to the emergency exit. i have some things i need to attend to."

and then he's gone and this woman is ushering both of you out of the room, apologizing for the inconvenience.

you'd like to tell her that her mascara is running from the water. you'd like to ask her how to get the hell out of here before--

"you okay?" peter whispers in your ear, his hand keeping you next to him, covering your shoulder.

"do you think it's this floor?"

peter's face is still. "probably not. i didn't see any chemical testing in the lab."

"could someone have set a fire?"

"i don't know." peter looks around, at the people crowding around the door to the staircase, to the concerned look on dozens of faces.

but you're looking at him.

"peter?"

"i have to--" he looks at you, letting you go. "i left something in that room. i have to go get it."

"what?"

"i'll be right behind you," he promises, and then he's walking through the crowd, ignoring your calls after him.

"peter! c'mon, we can't stay here!"

but even you can't hear your voice amongst the others. against the siren that's flashing in your eyes, blaring in your ears.

and within ten seconds, peter has disappeared from your sight.

you try to push through the crowd, crawl your way back to him, but you can't get through all of the people giving you glares, all of them forcing you along.

and you know it then.

it's all happening again.

you manage to push yourself so close to the wall that you can't breathe.

you've managed to make every single person in this building angry at you, but you'll be damned if you make it out of this--like you always do--and peter doesn't.

you're not going to let him stay behind while you go down, escaping with everyone else.

and you can't believe that he was stupid enough to turn back around.

but now you're doing the same, walking back up the stairs and calling his name.

you're thanking dr. hazzen for not being on the thirtieth floor.

by the time you make it back up, you're out of breath and shaking from the water. but you don't hesitate to burst through the doors of the lab, searching for anything that looks like an idiot of a man.

brown hair, brown eyes, and an absolutely brilliant smile.

an attitude, and a sincerity you can't believe you've been allowed to feel.

"peter?" you call out, walking through another door. looking for a backpack, a water bottle, a camera on the ground.

but you don't see anything.

and you don't know where else he would've gone, why he would have gone anywhere but here, in this room, where he'd recklessly run back to.

"peter?" you say again, pushing a door that refuses to open, looking at the floor for any spare keys around. for any single thing to help you find peter parker.

you push even harder, muscles aching.

and then the door opens all on its own, and you're slipping, bumping into the chest of the person who's opened it.

you're being blinded by bright colors you've never seen in person before.

a strange voice says "what are you doing up here?" there’s a sigh, a groan, or something else. “don’t you know that you’re supposed to follow the crowd of people running out of the building panicked?” but you're barely listening

"spider-man?" you say, muffled and shaking, pushing your hair out of your eyes so you can look at him properly.

but even this surreal moment--where you meet the guy that's supposed to be saving everyone in this building--does nothing to deter you from getting back to peter.

"i have to--" you gasp out, pushing behind him. "my friend is still up here. he came looking for something. i have to find him."

"whoa," spider-man pushes you back, needing nothing more than a hand to do so, he grips around your arm so you can't squirm away. "there's no one back there, i already checked."

you shake your head. "i don't know where else he would be. he promised he'd be right behind me."

spider-man seems to be looking right at you. he seems to be grumbling to himself. "we have to get you out of here," he says, looking around for a door he can push you through.

"i'm not leaving without peter."

you're staring at him with a glare in your eyes, with a finality in your voice. spider-man could glue you to the ceiling and you'd still find a way to get out, to find the one person you care about in this entire place.

"i'll look for him, i promise," spider-man is saying, voice muffled in your ear. "but you've got to leave the building, sweetheart."

"not until he does."

the superhero sighs, putting an arm around your waist so he can push you out of the doorway. "let's go--"

but you don't hear the rest of the sentence. you don't hear anything more.

you can only feel a ringing in your ears. a sort of silence that stops everything, leaving the world to be nothing a mere figment of your imagination.

you can only see spider-man as he leaps towards you.

and when your head falls back, your eyes close in succession.

you wake up to banging in your kitchen.

you're laying on your couch, shoes off, head carefully rested on a throw pillow.

and your neck hurts. your body aches, like you've forgotten just how much physical strain you've been putting on it.

you wonder if it was all just a dream. if you imagined seeing peter again if you imagined meeting spider-man.

or maybe you died, and this is the only home you have left to return to.

either way, you're not sure what that sound is.

but something falls on the floor, followed by an angry noise, and then you hear the faucet running.

there is someone else in your house. and you have absolutely no idea who it is.

if this isn't a dream, then you shouldn't be at home right now. you shouldn't even be alive after what happened in that building. you shouldn't be thinking of anything else but--

"peter," you say, just remembering, just realizing what the whole point of all of this was.

you don't know if you ever found him. you have no idea if he's alright.

so you're sitting up, looking around your apartment, and moving to follow the sound of whoever's in the kitchen.

but a hand stops you, cautious, keeping you from running into the counter. "you shouldn't be standing up," a voice says, and then gently--or maybe not--leads you back to the couch.

you're not sure that you can believe what you're seeing.

spider-man, in your apartment, absolutely drenched, holding a bowl and a cloth.

spider-man, standing right in front of you.

"i'm dead."

you hear a sharp intake of breath. spider-man makes you lay back down, setting his bowl and cloth down on the coffee table beside your couch.

he leans down, and he must be looking into your eyes.

"you're okay," he says. "not dead. you're going to be fine."

"how did i get here?" you ask him, not bothering to process anything he said. "why are you here? what happened? did peter--"

"slow down. you just woke up." his voice is soft and chiding, and he hands you a glass of water, tipping it toward your mouth so that you'll drink some of it. "good. now, let me make sure you're--"

it's then that you almost fall off of the couch, vision blurred, equilibrium completely removed.

"jeez," spider-man is saying, keeping your shoulder up, making you lean back. "could you be any more out of it?"

"probably. where's peter?"

he sighs, taking the towel he brought over and dipping it in the water. "lay back," he tells you.

"this is crazy," you say, instead of listening. "i don't even know who you are."

"really?" the man asks, voice somewhat amused. "because you had a little starstruck moment back at the lab."

you blink. "that actually happened?"

the man chuckles instead of answering, and he wipes your face with the cloth. you can hear him breathing in and out, you can feel your own heart rate rise.

spider-man freezes, tilting his head toward you. "what?"

"did--" you pause, the answer already coming to your lips. you already know, but you have to ask anyway. "is everyone okay? is--"

is peter alright?

he stares at you for a moment, thumb rubbing over the skin of your neck, drawing circles over your pulse.

and then his warmth is gone, and spider-man is leaning back on his heels, raising a hand up to his face, pulling at--

oh.

as soon as the mask moves above his nose you already know what you're about to find. you already know what's happened.

you don't need an answer, or a superhero, or a goddamned article to tell you what happened.

you're looking at this man, at this--brown eyes and full lips and a tight expression on a sinisterly structured face.

a bruise on his cheek.

you reach out to graze your finger over it.

and you can't think of anything to say.

peter swallows. "i was going to leave before you woke up." his voice is raw, and you can't believe you hadn't recognized it fifteen seconds ago. "but i--i just wanted to make sure that you were alright. that you would..."

there's a moment. a silence so loud it bursts your eardrums.

"you hit your head pretty hard. i'm not sure what caused both of us to--anyway, i was worried that you got a concussion. or something else. but i wasn't, uh, i couldn't bring you down to an ambulance without carrying you through the crowd. so i just came here."

your mouth opens. "peter?"

his eyes close, and you finally notice how tired he looks. how worn his skin is under the mask.

peter parker is sitting right in front of you, in your apartment.

peter parker is spider-man.

"i don't expect you to..." peter laughs. "well, any reaction really. i know we've talked about, um, me, before, but this is--it's just different. and i don't have to stay for much longer, i just want you to drink some more water and stay awake for longer than ten minutes."

"i've woken up before?" you ask.

peter's lip twitches and that's answer enough.

"...how?" you whisper, looking up and down his face, watching his eyes follow your every movement. "why?"

peter breathes in, standing up and lifting your legs from the couch so that he can sit next to you. "it's a long story. probably one you shouldn't hear with a concussion."

"my head feels fine. i'm just confused."

peter nods, and he's not looking at you anymore.

but you can't look away from him. you can't help but notice the similarities between his suit and his face, the mask he's left on the floor, and the voice that you've heard on video so many times, the laughter in your ear, and--

you never even realized. it seems ridiculous now.

you clear your throat. "i'm sorry for following you. i didn't know--" you rub a hand over your eyes. "i didn't realize it would cause you more trouble."

and peter smiles. it's that same one he gave you when he apologized the first time. the same sort of olive branch you refused to see.

"it's okay," he says. "i would've come back for you, too."

the two of you sit for a while. peter doesn't speak, and neither do you.

instead, you listen to the way he breathes. you watch his face as he thinks, noting the little wrinkle between his brows, and the slight twitch of his lips every couple of seconds.

you've seen his dimples before, but somehow, you've never had the chance to look at them.

you feel ridiculous. you feel absolutely stupid for ever following him up there, for not realizing weeks ago, for letting yourself get so close to him that--

the guilt swirls in your chest. you shouldn't have gone to that interview. you shouldn't have gone to work at all.

"hey," peter interrupts your train of thought, tapping on your calf. "don't worry about it. everything is fine. no one was hurt, and the police are already dealing with the damages to the building."

you bite your lip.

peter blinks at you, moving a little closer so he can properly observe your eyes. "it's not your fault," he tells you, slowly.

the words are like a hammer pounding on the nails in your chest.

"i know you think this is just another example of you radiating danger--" peter says the words like they're ridiculous, like they're just some idea from a story a kid has written. "but it's not. it was an accident. and everything is fine."

"you can't know that--"

"i can," his voice is a bit louder than yours. "because i know you. and i know that bad things happen, and sometimes it's no one's fault."

you swallow and look away from him. from the eyes that are trying to convince you. plead with you. "peter, i don't think--"

"are you feeling alright?"

your brows furrow. "what?"

"are you feeling alright? because i want to talk to you, i want to explain some things to you, but i need to be sure that you're going to hear it. that you can listen."

you look back to him, confused.

"do you feel okay? is your head hurting?"

"i--no. no, it's fine, i told you."

peter nods, and he runs a finger over the exposed skin of your leg. "okay. are you ready to listen?"

you're not. you're not really ready for anything.

but you'd give anything to listen to peter's voice for just a little bit longer.

"yes, yeah. i'm listening."

peter almost smiles.

"i want to give you an explanation," he begins. "a real reason for why i was so... mean to you, before. and it's just an excuse, really, but i think--" he runs a hand through his hair. "i think you should know."

you nod. peter can't meet your eyes.

"i was terrified of you," he says, "for a long time."

"what?"

his nose scrunches. "you're undeniably beautiful. and intimidating. and something about the way you moved around all of the people in the office, just observing, not needing to join in on any conversation to understand what was happening... i don't know; there's just something about the way you react to things."

you frown, not sure what he's meaning to say.

"yeah, like that. i tried to ignore it for a long time. to push away that pull i felt towards you. but as soon as jameson paired us up, and as soon as you started actually smiling at me, telling me jokes that weren't funny--"

"hey--"

"--but were awkward, and overbearing, and reckless... well. i couldn't just ice you out anymore, not like i did with everyone else. and i was so scared of that--of you--that i took it out on you."

his voice is soothing, and his fingers are still grazing over your skin. and you're partially sure that you've gone insane.

"peter, you've already apologized for that. it's okay. i'm not mad."

peter laughs, a bit stiffly. "that's not all," he whispers, swallowing.

you nod, waiting for him.

you don't know what you're supposed to be doing.

"i know you believe that all of the terrible things that have happened to you are your fault." he meets your eyes, pursing his lips. "and i know that you think that bad things happen when you're around."

there's a second. one moment where your thoughts are echoed against the wall, and you know that peter can hear them all.

"but i've seen more of those bad things than you can imagine. and i know--i know that there's no reason to any of them. there's no reason for people to do bad things, or hurt other people. but they do them.

"and there's no reason for the world to put so much pressure on someone so kind, and so selfless, and listens wholeheartedly to every person she meets."

peter is leaning towards you. he is breathing your air, sharing your secrets. "i've never met someone i love to talk to more. i've never met anyone that i love so easily."

you stop breathing. there is not a single thing, a single pin-prick of your lungs that might get your heart to stop beating again.

"you're not going to change your mind about all of this just because i disagree with you, i know," peter is laughing, he's laughing at you and with you and. "but i'm not afraid of getting hurt. i'm not scared to be close to you. not anymore."

"peter, you don't--"

he leans closer. he says more with his eyes than you have heard from him in the last three months. "i believe that the world is a terrifying place. and i've gotten bitter about it over the past couple of years. i couldn't--i can't understand how great people can be treated so badly, and cruel people can have everything they want. i don't know why, and i don't want to. but you are a person that i know i can trust, without even knowing you. you're someone that i can laugh with, and someone that has turned the world back into something i can believe in."

peter pauses, you pause. and everything stops. "i believe in you," he says, "even if you don't believe in yourself."

his eyes are unbelievable. his voice is overwhelming, and you don't know how, you're not sure how any of the things he's saying can tune out the cruel words you can hear yourself whisper.

but he does. easily.

and this smile that he has on his face, it's one that you've been craving for weeks. one that you've so desperately tried to hold onto, even when you were pushing him away.

"you believe in me?" you repeat, voice breaking.

peter's smile widens. "i do," he says. and he's an inch away. "sweetheart?" he asks.

and you nod.

"can i kiss you?"

peter is close enough that his words are attacking you. his words are terrifying.

but looking at him, listening to him, and feeling the way he's staring at you.

you know that peter has more than enough courage for both of you. you know that he's strong enough to take whatever you can't control.

when you lean in, lips meeting his, you feel luckier than every other person.

peter is there. he is smiling against you.

you're awake, finally.

i’m thinking one more, very shorter, part. maybe peter pov?

let me know what you thought of it! thanks for reading.

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @sharkswaters @petersirius

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sl-newsie · 4 months

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Me: feels guilty for not spending time with family

Also me: shut the door leave me alone and let me write fanfics while watching TV

✍️

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reese-tasteslikepepsicola · 4 months

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Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Naked part 2

! READ PART 1. Link down at the very end of this post <3 !

Summary: After Peter sees you naked, he cant stop thinking about it, it’s the only thing he can think about.

Warnings: Peter is a charming loser Mentions of reader being curvy (Srry I’m giving my curvy girls love), kinda smutty but not? Kissing, groping, alcohol consumption. Based on New Girl <3

•

Peter lays on his bed, his head wondering to the night before.

Your naked body remains imprinted in his head like a picture, he can remember every detail about.

Your curves, your breasts that he would’ve respectfully grabbed if you let him—if Lauren wasn’t there watching in horror, and your cute ass.

If you told him to get on his knees, kiss your ankles and go down on you, he would do it in an instant—if Lauren wasn’t there.

Peter came to the conclusion at that very moment that he wanted—needed you in his arms at all times.

He didn’t want to just have sex, he wanted to be your boyfriend and treat you like how you should be treated.

Anytime you crossed his mind, his face would heat up and he’d start smiling and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl—it was pissing him off.

You guys always made it clear that you enjoyed being friends and taunting each other for fun.

You both argue too much and are constantly at each other’s throats, something romantic could never happen…right?

You hadn’t spoken to him since you…flashed him with Lauren being there. You were too embarrassed to leave your room after that, refusing to leave your room until Lauren had left and broke contact with Peter.

Deciding to swallow down your worry and embarrassment, you hesitantly knocked on Peter’s door,

“Come in!” Opening the door, you slapped your hand on your closed eyes,

“You don’t have to cover your eyes, y/n. I told you to come in” Peter stated, pretending to be annoyed at your presence even though he was actually waiting for you to come talk to him since the incident,

“Sorry! Just thought we’ve both seen enough nudity these past couple of days” Peter let out a chuckle and nodded, sitting at the edge of his bed with his arms crossed and his legs man spreading, looking up at you,

“I came in here to um—talk?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked,

“Talk?” You nodded and whistled, looking around his room awkwardly,

“Yep!” He sat there, waiting for you to say something, his head cockily tilting to the side,

“Your probably wondering why I was laying naked on the floor in your bedroom last night” You said.

He nodded and pursed his lips, hiding a smile,

“You cock blocked me and scared away a poor, innocent girl” He said, laughing. Rolling your eyes, you slapped his chest,

“I know! I feel so bad. She’ll forever know me as the scary naked girl who was hiding in her sneaky link’s bedroom” He shook his head and laughed again,

“I was trying to make it even between us, y’know? I saw your naked body, and I’ll show you my naked body!” You explained. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed,

“Yeah, I get why you did that. Why’d you have to do it when Lauren was coming over, though?” He teased, smirking up at you. You scoffed and shoved him by the forehead,

“I didn’t know she was coming over! You could’ve given the group chat a heads up!” He nodded and stared at the ground,

“So, did you like…see my, y’know…kitty cooter?” You asked awkwardly, poking at his shoulder with a grin.

He cringed and groaned at the word you used,

“I did! I saw everything. Also—kitty cooter? Just call it a vagina at that point” It was your turn to cringe and groan,

“Ew! The word ‘vagina’ sounds absolutely terrible coming out of your mouth, Parker. Never use that word around me again” He scoffed and threw his hands up in defence,

“Geez! Sorry for calling it the scientifically correct name. Never use ‘kitty cooter’ around me again, alright?”

“Since when did you have friends that weren’t me?” Peter asked Ned, as he glanced around the loft that was filled with at least thirteen people,

“I can have friends that aren’t just you. Surprise!” Ned said, scoffing,

“You could’ve asked y/n, Mj and I that you were going to throw a fucking party, dude” He shrugged and grabbed a beer from the fridge, handing it to Peter,

“Didn’t know I had to ask for permission, Daddy” Peter scrunched up his face and took a swig of the beer,

“Whatever” He leaned against the fridge and continued sipping it, starting to wonder where you and Mj were,

“What the hell?!” There you were.

You and Mj had shopping bags in your hands, struggling to hold them all as you scanned the loft full of people in annoyance,

“Who let humans in our loft!” Mj yelled over the music, catching your shoulder with her free hand when you began to lose balance in your steps,

“Let me help” Peter jogged over to you both and grabbed some of the bags,

“Did you invite these people, here? I thought we were your only friends, Parker” You said. He rolled his eyes and slung your purse over his shoulder with sass,

“I didn’t know about this party, either. Ned invited them without telling us” Mj groaned and dropped the bags on the floor,

“I hate it here. I’m going to my room and not coming out until these people leave” She walked away down the hall to her bedroom. You began following along behind her,

“I’m doing the same” Peter trailed behind you like a lost puppy, now holding every single bag you brought home. Getting into your room, you shut the door and pointed to your bed,

“Put the bags there, Bug-boy” He tossed the bags,

“Gently!” You shoved him out the way and double checked that nothing in them broke,

“You’re welcome, Princess” Peter scoffed, sitting down in your fluffy pink chair, leaning back and stretching his arms above his head.

You turned around to face him and almost gasped as his happy trail was showing from where his shirt lifted up. Your attention then focused to how his big muscles flexed through his white shirt.

Jesus Christ.

“So…big” You mumbled as you stared at him. He raised an eyebrow,

“What was that?” Your eyes widened,

“Nothing! I didn’t say anything! Shut up the fuck up” He snorted and ran a hand through his hair,

“Where’d you and Mj go today?” He asked, now manspreading.

Can he stop sitting like a bitch, for fuck sake?

“Uh—we went to Sephora, Walmart, the food court and Victoria Secret. When we were at Victoria Secret this old lady called me a whore for looking at this lingerie set that looked like two tiny triangles and a string of floss” You rolled your eyes at the memory.

He laughed and stood up, walking over to you,

“Aw, that sucks. Old people, am I right?” He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a hug. You froze before nuzzling into his arms, sighing contently with your eyes closed, sniffing his armpit,

“Did you just sniff my armpit?” He asked. You could hear a smile in his voice,

“Pffttt—no, I’m not weird” He smirked and hugged tighter, his bicep now completely covering your face.

Is he doing this on purpose?

“You are pretty weird” You hummed to what he said, not recalling paying attention to anything but him.

“Never let go” The words left your mouth before you could really stop them,

“What?”

“Chug, chug, chug, chug!” Everyone chanted as you and Peter were seeing who could chug down a beer faster. You managed to finish first which had everybody cheering and a couple of people ruffling your hair,

“Lick me, Parker!” You yelled, shoving his shoulder. Peter groaned and tossed the can away,

“I wish” He whispered to himself, but smiling as he watched you awkwardly dance in victory to the Pitbull song playing,

“Let’s play a game!” Ned yelled, drunkenly slinging an arm around your shoulder.

“We close our eyes and hold up a number on our fingers, and then on the count of three we open our eyes. Whoever is holding up the same number has to kiss!”

You and Ned sat next to each other while Peter sat across from you, next to a girl named Emily while she sat across from Ned.

Everyone was slowly starting to form little groups, playing different games together since it was still early in the night. You and Peter somehow got roped into playing this stupid game together,

“What are we, twelve?! This game is so stupid” You complained. Peter nodded along to what you were saying,

“Exactly! Also, Ned, I’m not kissing you if we hold up the same number” Ned scoffed,

“Why are you acting like we’ve never made out, before, Peter?” You looked at the both of them confused,

“Wait—

“We never kissed! Anyways, I’m only gonna play if y/n plays” He said, shrugging and staring you down nonchalantly. You squinted your eyes at him and looked over at Emily and asked,

“You playing?” She shrugged and then nodded,

“Okay, cool. I’m playing, then” Peter smiled and leaned forward so that his face was only inches from your’s,

“Damn. I guess I’m playing as well” Your breath hitched at his low tone,

“Yep! I’m playing, too” You repeated, mentally slapping yourself at your weird behaviour,

“Right. I’m gonna play, yep” He said back, now both of you becoming awkward once you guys realized how close your faces were,

“Ahem!” Emily cleared her throat in annoyance, breaking you guys out of your odd, repetitive conversation,

“Everybody shut your eyes, please!” You all did so before Ned began to count,

“Alright, open your eyes” Emily and Ned both had two fingers held up,

“Sweet!” He whispered under his breath before leaning in to kiss Emily.

Peter couldn’t hide his discouraged self when he opened his eyes to see that you both were holding up different.

After two more rounds of just Ned and Emily holding up the same number every time, Peter was getting fed up,

“I’m getting tired of watching you guys kiss, y’know” He said, still staring at you. In fact, he hadn’t stopped staring at you this whole game, this whole night,

“Honestly, me too. At this point, I’ll kiss anyone!” You stated, staring at everybody who was in the room, except for Peter himself. He couldn’t help but frown at that, now feeling like his feelings were one-sided,

“Fine! One more round, okay?” Ned said, closing his eyes and starting to count down to three,

“Open your eyes!” Coincidentally, you and Peter were both holding up four fingers. His heart sped up as he began to blush, but his face fell when he heard your groan and throw your head back,

“No way! I’m not kissing him!” He began to become defensive now, his way of hiding his hurt feelings,

“Well, I don’t want to kiss you either, y/l/n! And by the way, you said you’d kiss anyone!” You rolled your eyes and stood up,

“Whatever! Goodnight” Peter stood up as well in a hurry,

“Goodnight, as well!” He began to trail behind you as you made your way to the hallways to your bedroom,

“Why are you following me?!” You yelled, turning around and flailing your arms,

“I don’t know!?” He yelled back as you guys made your way to your room, the door being slammed shut by Peter,

“Why are you in my room!?”

“I don’t know!?”

You both stood there, simply staring at each other with squinted eyes,

“I didn’t even want to join the party. I just wanted to watch a movie and go to bed ” you mumbled, sighing heavily and sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, leaning your back against it.

Peter did the same, sitting next to you, his head falling back against the frame,

“Damn. I wanted to invite Lauren over” You whipped your head around to look at him with a scowl, to end up seeing that he was grinning and looking at you already.

He was teasing you.

You rolled your eyes and bumped his shoulder,

“Not funny, Peter” He doesn’t know why, but the way his name rolled off your tongue had his spidey-senses tingling, his ‘Peter-tingle’ is what May would call it.

An awkward silence fell between you both. There had been many awkward silences since the ‘incident’ a couple of days ago. You guys saw each other naked for god’s sake! That would make any roommates and friends feel awkward for a bit, but it was coming up on a week that you and Peter had that unresolved tension.

Almost like you were reading his mind, you started to speak,

“There’s this weird feeling between us” He glanced over at you and pursed his lips,

“I kinda miss the old us, y’know? The us before we saw each other naked and vulnerable” You let out a small giggle at the end of your sentence. He smiled and scratched his eyebrow while nodding,

“No—yeah, I get what you’re saying” You leaned your head on his shoulder, catching him by surprise,

“I just thought that if I showed you my naked-self back it’d make things less awkward and have everything go back to being—normal?” He let go of a long breath he didn’t know he was holding in, and leaned his cheek on top of your head,

“It did kind of take away my embarrassment…but—

He cut himself and bit his lip,

“But, what?” He puffed out his cheeks and and rubbed his chin.

Just say how you feel, Peter.

“It took away my embarrassment but—it also made me feel things?” You grew confused and raised your head from his shoulder to look at him,

“Feel things?” He looked down in shyness,

“Like—I couldn’t get you off my mind after I saw you in my room…naked” Your face became hot to the touch at his words,

“Not just your naked body, by the way! You’re so much more than your body! What I mean is that—

“Everybody is leaving!” Ned swung the door open, cutting Peter off,

“Oh! Finally” you quickly stood up and sprinted out the room, leaving Peter there to sulk on your bedroom floor,

“You gonna come and say goodbye?” Ned questioned, giving the Spider-boy a weird look,

“Just leave me alone to die”

“Um—okay. What an odd thing to say”

After saying goodbye and doing your nighttime routine in the bathroom, you made your way to your bedroom to find that Peter was no longer in there,

“What a weird night” You whispered to yourself, flopping down on your bed.

You started to think about what Peter had said before, about not being able to stop thinking about your naked body.

The way he said it, in such a nervous but charming way, had you clenching your legs together while replaying it in your head. Did you really have that much of an effect on his mind? Did he like you?

I mean, he did say it wasn’t just your body that he was thinking about. What would he have said if Ned didn’t open the door?

Meanwhile, Peter was in his room at his desk with his head in his hands, his head running wild with thoughts as well,

“You’re so stupid, Peter. You should’ve never said anything to her in the first place” His foot tapped on the ground anxiously, trying to decide if he should never talk to you again (which he knew was not possible and too dramatic), or if he should walk across the hall to your room and tell you everything he has been feeling.

Needing a distraction, you felt around for your phone on your bed, to your end table, and then groaned in annoyance when you remembered you forgot it in the bathroom,

“My god!” You lazily got out of bed and went to the bathroom, grabbed your phone, and started the seemingly endless walk back to your room,

“Holy shit!” You screamed in fear, placing a hand on your chest.

There stood Peter in the hallway,

“Sorry! It’s just me! It’s Peter!” You rolled your eyes and rubbed your forehead,

“Yeah, I know it’s you. Just—why are you standing like slenderman in the middle of the hallway?” He glared at you and ran a hand through his hair,

“I wanted to talk to you but, you look tired and annoyed so, I’ll just let you go to sleep, or whatever” You straightened your back and blinked, your heartbeat beginning to beat rapidly at his words,

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”

Peter could sense your heartbeat deep in his ears and a smell that he couldn’t really put a name on, but he liked it, and he knew it meant you were excited. It’s times like these where he’s happy that he is spider-Man. The hairs on his neck stood up as he stepped a little closer to you,

“Your heart is beating really fast” He started to feel cocky as he watched you look down to avoid looking into his face, and how the smell of your arousal was becoming more intense. He placed his hand on your chest,

“Peter” He raised an eyebrow and smirked,

“Yeah?” You cleared your throat and awkwardly looked to the side,

“Your hand is on my boob. That is not my heart” His eyes widened as his cocky demeanour disappeared. He went to snatch his hand away, but to both of your guy’s embarrassment, his hand remained stuck to you,

“Um—

He tried taking it off again,

“I’m starting to think this is not your spider-ness, or whatever. I think you just wanted an excuse to keep your hand on my boob forever” His eyes bulged out of his head and continued to try and take his hand off,

“I did not do it on purpose! I’m sticky! It’s apart of me!” You slapped a hand on your forehead, and grabbed his wrist to make him stop pulling,

“Stop! Rip my shirt off” His face flushed at your words,

“I’m—what?”

“You heard me. You’ve already seen me naked, so just rip it off and we can—talk?” He nervously chuckled at your words,

“Are you sure? Cause—

“Peter”

“Okay, sorry! I’ll just—

A loud tearing sound could be heard,

“Wow”

He stared at your chest, suddenly getting déjà vu, but this time you were wearing a pretty white bra that had a small bow in the front instead of being completely naked.

You crossed your arms over your chest,

“Are we gonna talk, or?” You trailed off, whispering and looking up into his eyes. He sucked in a deep breath and looked into your eyes as well,

“I, uh—we still haven’t kissed. We held up the same number, remember?” He said, walking so close to you that your back was almost against the wall.

Your ripped shirt that was still hanging from his hand finally detached, plopping onto the floor at your feet,

“Peter?” You whispered, biting your lip,

“Fuck” Peter grabbed your bare waist and pressed his lips onto your’s, a surprised gasp coming from you. You placed your arms on his shoulders and practically melted into him.

He felt relief when you didn’t pull away, instead tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging, grinding into him desperately. Remembering that you were still a human who has to breathe, you pulled away and took a deep, shaky breath, Peter as well. You glanced into each other’s eyes, chest moving rapidly,

“I like you” He whispered, gulping. You grinned and pull him back in by his face to your lips. His hands were now experimenting, rubbing your lower back, the straps of your bra, and then your breasts. He let out a high pitch pathetic moan when he squeezed them,

“I cant believe I’m squeezing your boobs right now” you snorted against his lips at his loser-like way of saying it.

You let out a gasp when he unexpectedly picked you up bridal style like you weighed nothing, his super-human strength causing your mind to lead to very sinful thoughts,

“I think it’s so hot your spider-man—and so, strong” You blurted out, staring up at his brown eyes as he kicked your bedroom door open. He smirked at that and gently laid you down on your bed. He stood at the foot of the bed and shrugged, flexing his biceps (on purpose),

“Thanks. I can lift cars and buildings, too. S’like, no big deal or whatever” He looked down at his feet and scratched the back of his neck,

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna like—come here and have sex with me— or?”

“Right! Shit, yeah! Um—

He took his shirt off, hurriedly pulled down his pants and let out an embarrassing girl-ish scream when he tripped over his pants and fell on the ground with a loud thud,

“Oh my god! Peter, are okay?!” His head popped up,

“Yep! Totally good! Don’t even worry about!”

He dove on the bed and made himself comfortable between your legs, making you giggle at his enthusiasm. You guys went back to making out, his kisses beginning to trail to your neck, shoulder, breasts, and stomach. He slowly slid your pyjama shorts down your legs and tossed them behind him. He placed a hand on your boob and the other in your underwear,

“Oh! Peter!” He raised an eyebrow and smirked,

“Wow, barely touched you and your already screaming my name” You screamed his name again and pointed to the window,

“No, Peter! You threw my new expensive shorts out the window!”

END

Author: I cut my bangs too short so now I’m going to class everyday with these short fuck-ass bangs

Here’s part 1 down below

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