#tasm fluff

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

DOWN BAD- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Jock! Peter x Nerd! Reader (enemies to… lovers?)

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Peter Parker constantly nags you, and you hate his guts (naturally). So what better way to mellow the hate by being paired together for a class project? And why, if you hate his guts, do you want to touch him so bad?

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing etc…

Notes: It’s been a while, I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, I had a fun time writing, and I really did miss it (Taylor Swifts new album really inspired me too!) I am using my phone to post for the first time, I hope to go back and format/ edit if need be when I can use my laptop again. Thank you for all the support :)

“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed, eyes sharp as daggers as your cool gaze slid over to your target and struck its mark.

Peter Parker. Bullseye.

You could feel his lingering attention solely focused on you, a coy smirk upon his lips as he tapped his pencil against the wooden desk, its dull echo like nails on a chalkboard. A taunting metronome in the back of your mark as he leaned over to tower over you in his seat.

It was too close to yours for your liking.

“Like what pipsqueak?” he murmured, drowning out the professor's droning voice as he dragged on. You wished you could hit him with the textbook in your bag. Both of them, honestly.

“Like you’re thrilled for this. Don’t act like you like me.”

“Well I do like you.” He smiled, beaming ear to ear.

For him, it was the best day of his life. Getting randomly paired with “whoever you’re sitting next to, I don’t care.” (the professor's words, not yours), was a thrill for him, he got to pick on the quiet, shy girl more than usual.

Which would be a shock, considering the sheer amount he did already, always finding his way next to you to tease you, especially with and to his stupid jockey friends. This project was worth thirty percent of your grade. You couldn’t afford this.

“Well I don’t like you. So fuck off.” You heard a low whistle from behind you, a chuck alongside it from his friends. “Kitty has claws?” Peter whistled, eyebrow raising in mock surprise as you shifted your legs to the other side of the chair, angling away from him.

“Oh you’re in for it now Parker” Bucky laughed as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way they mocked you. And what made it worse was that it got to you. Not that the jokes and remarks meant anything much, but it was just the sheer annoyance of it all.

You had thrived to be a straight A student your entire life, and in this class… you could feel them slipping. Taking a deep breath, you clenched your pen harder in your hand, pressing so hard the page snagged as you wrote.

You could still feel his eyes on you, flickering over from under his glasses ,his muscles flexing subtly under his blue t-shirt. You pretended not to look, and to not focus on the fact he was extremely attractive. You spent the rest of the hour doing just that, scolding yourself for any indecent thought you had ever had about him, ever. By the time the professor had snapped his laptop shut, the projector turning dark as students started to talk amongst themselves as they packed up, you had half a page of notes, max.

“I’ll be in touch.” he leaned down and whispered, hand lingering by your chair as he slipped by. “Fuck you.”

He just threw his head back and laughed, his friend group joining him as he looked back. And winked. You groaned. This was going to be three weeks of hell.

—————————————————————————

It was a Thursday when you got a text from him. An unknown number flashed on your screen as you lay face down on your bed, contemplating life and if this class was seriously worth it or not.

The buzz of the phone had your head snapping up, confused until it suddenly dawned on you.

Unknown: Think we should start brainstorming for this thing pipsqueak?

Well fuck, you thought, wanting to throw your phone across the room. This class wasn’t that important, right? (It was).

Taking a deep breath, you sat up as your thumbs started to fly across the screen.

You: Who is this?

Unknown: I’m hurt, pips. Truly.

You: I think you have the wrong number.

You smirked. Okay, who were you kidding… this was kind of fun. Kind of.

Peter: It’s Peter, you jerk. Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?

You: Peter who? Doesn’t ring a bell.

Good. Knock him down a few pegs. You giggled to yourself, quickly stopping once you realised why exactly you were kicking your feet like a school girl, for who exactly. You layed back down, head muddled with meaningless thoughts that jumbled as you waited for his response. Grabbing a stuffie, you hugged it close to your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you caught your breath, grounding yourself. Why on earth did this mean so much to you? Why did his texts, something so easily ignorable- suddenly a waiting game?

Peter: Ha ha, very funny pips.

You: How did you even get my number anyways?

Peter: Long story, I had to go on a bit of a hunt. A friend, of a friend of a friend, you get the point. I can be very persuasive ;)

Nope. You thought. Don’t give into this.

You: I’m sure.

Peter: You wanna come over on the weekend or meet at Braxston’s to start… brainstorming?

You: I don’t want to do anything of the sort, but if that gets this over with as soon as possible- then sure. Only one of us has a brain to storm anyways.

Peter: You’ll regret that pips.

You clicked off your phone, a ghost of a smirk on your face. His threat surprisingly didn’t seem like a real threat, but actual light hearted teasing, not the kind he often did.

Fuck. You were supposed to be hating him. You did hate him. It was only three weeks with him. You weren’t sure if you meant that with relief or disappointment.

————————————————————————————

It was disappointment.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your creased temple. It was nearly midnight , and your books were still scattered across the desk you occupied, the library a ghost town considering it was a Friday night. Braxston library tended to be on the empiter side, which is why you preferred it. It was the oldest library on campus, smelling of old pages and cedarwood.

Sometimes, when you needed a break you would get up and run your fingers across the leather spines, or climb the ladder for a change of view of the stained glass windows. But tonight, you lacked the motivation to even bother standing. It had been a long night, filled with cramming and stress. Pen and highlighter stained your hands as you shook them out, cramped and aching. For the last hour you had solely focused on the final you and Peter had to pull out your ass, coming up with backup plans with the worry he would abandon you completely.

Topics, ideas, theories- god you didn’t even know anymore. Your body lacked caffeine, your iced coffee long gone. You grew tired of this mindless work, sliding off your headphones to admire the near empty room around you.

Suddenly, you wished it was completely empty.

Peter looked just as shocked to see you, eyes widening in surprise, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair ruffled and eyebags prominent as if he had fallen asleep and been startled awake.

“Pips? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow?” He made his way over to you, inviting himself to lean over you, on your desk. You stared up at him with a look of amusement.

“We don’t have to meet at all. It’s very bold you assume I’m here to see you, of all people.” you snorted. His eyebrow raised. “So who are you here to meet?”

“Two papers and exam prep. You?”

“More or less the same” he smirked, and you felt butterflies start to churn in your stomach. “Sounds like great fun. I’m sure they’re lovely.” you said, snarky comment slipping out before you could stop it, turning in your seat as you often did around him so he wouldn’t see the fluster and nerves in your demeanour whenever you were near him.

He leaned down, breath warm against the column of your neck. You couldn't breathe. You could not fucking breathe with him this close to you. The rich scent of his cologne made you dizzy, it intoxicated you as you stared at your laptop screen, as if it possessed the knowledge of the entire universe.

“You know, you can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about” you snarled softly, staring at the coy, cockly little smirk you wanted to wipe off his face as he stood. “Sure you don’t.” He nodded his head towards your screen, with a wink.

“Good song.” he smiled, before he was off. You continued to stare at him as he walked out the door, not looking back once. Not a care in the world as he slipped on his own headphones, and around the corner.

Eyes moved down to stare at the pause button of your song, lyrics burning into your ears at the thought of him listening to it- and enjoying it.

Down bad, waking up in blood, staring at the sky, come back over and pick me up- fuck it if I can’t have us, I might just not get up, I might stay down bad.

You were so incredibly fucked.

———————————————————

You took a deep breath. Then another.

You let the crisp, cool night air wash over your burning skin, the faint smell of weed tickling your senses, probably from a house down the street. It was a pretty busy neighbourhood, full of students you recognized from afar on campus. You didn’t associate with the more ‘popular’ kids, if that could even be considered a thing past high school.

You tried to shake off the uneasiness that stuck with you, cracking your knuckles as you tried to prepare yourself to not only see Peter, but to interact with him- in his house. Most likely for hours. You knew you probably looked like a complete idiot out on the sidewalk, just near his house but you had to muster some form of courage.

All you could see was a faint light from what looked like the living room, and a light upstairs- you presumed his room. No sign of life other than that.

You thought of his words, how twisted they sounded. You can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.

Fuck it.

You slipped from your hiding spot (from Peter, you were placed behind a large tree in his front yard, but god knows what people driving by thought), and mentally prepared yourself for his roommates to answer the door, making fun of you before he put the cherry on top. Practically leaping up the porch stairs, you raced to the door, knocking quickly.

You wanted this over and done with. Your palms were clammy and your stomach churned viciously as you heard footsteps near the door. It took everything in you to stay rooted to the ground and to not flee, and when Peter appeared, you feared the opposite.

How the hell you were supposed to move with him in that slutty little fit, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, his v-line and happy trail on full display… his toned abs and arms in a little white muscle shirt… gods you didn’t know. You were sure your tongue fully hung out of your mouth like some cartoon character as you took him in.

“Took you long enough” he said with a snort, adjusting his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. You didn’t even know he had glasses. Did he wear contacts? Had he worn them and you just didn’t notice? No, surely that wasn’t the case, you noticed everything he did. It was like he sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere whenever he walked in a room. It was suffocating, in a way. Of course you had to look at him, and you were sure you weren't the only one.

“I was admiring the greenery.”

“I saw that. I wasn’t sure the maple needed to be examined that long.” he smirked, and your felt your fists instinctively clench.

He had saw you- so you were fucked and now the only logical thing to do was to run into a brick wall. Perfect, got it.

“I enjoy living in the moment, and I don’t take nature for granted.’ you huffed, attempting to compose yourself as he stepped aside, motioning for you to enter. “I’m sure. Don’t worry it was cute.” he smiled, running a hand through his tosseled hair.

You slid off your shoes, setting them next to his worn in converse you always saw him wear. You noticed the other pairs were missing, not even a missing lace to be found.

“Where are your roommates?” you asked as entered, surveying the open space. It was surprisingly tidy for a boys place, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Peter rushing around attempting to clean up before you came (though you doubted he would ever do that). Still, it was nice to think about.

Little traces of “boy” still lingered, silly little signs scattered across the walls, flags and such, empty, crushed beer and poking out from the recycling bins. “I kicked them out, because I figured you would want to contentrate.” he said.

Yeah like I’m going to be able to conetrate with you looking that fucking fine. Ha.

“That’s considerate. I’m surprised you even know what that is, Parker. I’m impressed.”

He snorted, throwing a little look back your way as he lead you up the stairs, presumably to his room. “I’m surprised you know how to walk up stairs. You have Bambi legs.” he teased, mocking your clumsiness. You cursed him internally. Maybe out loud too, judging by his laugh.

You tried to stifle down the butterflies. You were not about to flirt with him. You were not about to let your developing feelings expand. You hated him. He was mean and he was an asshole.

You were simply here to get this project done. That’s it.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know.” was all he said, turning down a hall to an open door, light glowing faintly- beckoning to you. You appreciated his refusal to use the overhead light- not that you’d tell him that. He’d probably look at you like you were insane.

“I see you clean for girls you bring over.” you noted, observing his (surprisingly) decently clean room.

“Bold of you to assume I cleaned. Maybe I’m always this tidy.” he smirked, arms flexing over and behind his head as he sat down in his office chair, man-spreading as he stretched.

You tried so hard not to stare. And failed miserably.

“I would’ve thought you cleaned up for ladies you bring to bed.”

His eyebrows arched. “Should I have prepared then?”

Something like churning fire burned in your belly, slithering lower and lower.

“Don’t start with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it pip.” he smiled coyly, knowing he had gotten you flustered. “May I?” you nodded to his bed, trying to ignore your feelings as you sat down. Fanning your skirt out, you tucked your legs in before opening your bag, attempting to cover your thighs with your bag as much as you could- his cool gaze staring lasers into your bare skin.

“So… if we have to base this on a creature in the wild…”

“Jumping straight to the point aren’t we?” he asked and you frowned in confusion.

“What did you want me to do foreplay or something beforehand?” you asked, your word choice more than intentional. You swore a little pink tinted his cheeks as he swiveled around.

“Right to it then. Okay, I was thinking spiders. Specifically their venom and social behaviours.”

You blinked. Jesus okay he had thought about this. This was not what you were expected.

“Elaborate Parker.”

He smiled. “ From what I’ve seen, not a lot is known about the venom entirely. From a predator-prey aspect.. I’ve mainly seen stuff on specific components evolving to target specific sites on cell membrains of prey tissue, we could work with that to start. Maybe expand on the social aspect and evolution.”

You were stunned. This was… more than you could’ve hoped for. Suddenly you felt bad for all the doubt aimed towards him over the few days leading up to this meeting.

“Hmm. I like it.”

“Did you have any ideas you had brewing in that genius brain of yours?” he asked, making you blush internally.

“I had some stuff just in case, but it was just random jots I’m not too proud of.”

He scoffed. “You came prepared with backup stuff?!”

You just shrugged. “Do you blame me?”

“Kinda.” he laughed. “Start thinking of me more highly pips. I even have access to a brown widow, we could do some experiments.”

You winced at the thought of actually studying a spider up close, but it was part of the job. Whatever could get this done the fastest, and you had to applaud him for providing some of your own evidence you could actually showcase.

He caught your wince, and you could feel the teasing start to start. It was like bait for him, he loved it. “The spider may bite, but I won’t. That is, unless you want me too.” he winked, and you fought the urge not to chuck your laptop at his handsome face.

“You’re gross Parker.”

“Oh I’m sure you think I am. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

You were going to strangle him. “Let’s just focus and get this project done as soon as we can, yeah? Please.”

You riffled through your bag, grabbing different coloured pens and your notebook, skimming through your random thoughts and jots.

“Whatever you say pip.”

“Start researching Parker.” And that was that.

—————————————————————

A few hours had passed, and so far you were quite impressed with how much the two of you had gotten done. For the most part, the two of you had stayed on opposite sides of the room. If he wanted to make a move, he wasn’t physically doing it, and his roommates still hadn’t come home yet.

Though as the hours passed, he had made his way closer to you- ever so slightly. From his desk he nudged over closer and closer, his laptop landing in his lap as he worked.

“What source are you working from right now?” you asked, not bothering to cast your gaze up as you continued to type, fingers flying over the keyboard as you bit your lip in concentration. You failed to notice his eyes darting between your lips and your breasts that poked out slightly as you slouched over, licking his lips hungrily.

“Some research paper. Here.”

You let out a little oomph in surprise as he plopped down beside you, sprawled across his bed as he enveloped you in his makeshift fortress. He stared at you with such longing you felt faint, having to stop your work to pull yourself together.

Fuck.

He nodded towards it, and you realized you had been staring at him longer than you intended, forgetting about the paper completely. “Oh, yeah okay let me look.” you murmured, taking the laptop from his hand to slide it across your lap, the fan whirling softly, the warmth of it adding more coals to the fire you felt already.

He was still staring.

Please look away before I want to kiss you. Or do more then kiss you. I’m supposed to be hating you, stop please.

You tried your best to read and concentrate, but it was next to no use. All you could focus on was him, his fingers drumming on the comforter near your thigh (what man has a comforter anyways?!), and his gaze on you, that was heavy with something. Want, perhaps? Lust? Or you were delusional. Very possible.

“It’s um, it’s good. I like it, I think there’s lots of good… stuff here.”

“Good stuff huh?” he asked sarcastically, a smirk plastered across his face.

He knew. The fucker knew you were down bad.

“Yeah. You know what I mean.” you grumbled, staring back down at your screen.

“I do know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, hand inching closer and closer to your thigh- teasing you. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself.

You could push your hatred aside for just a few minutes. It was okay, just this once. Right?

You bit your lip, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. Nodding to him, as if he could speak to you telepathically.

Yes, this is okay. Please touch me. Just a little, even is fine.

“Maybe you should explain a little more, Parker.”

His fingers skimmed the edge of your skirt, warm to the touch as they stroked your skin softly, just a whisper of him lingering. Goosebumps lingered in their wake, and you pushed your laptop off to the side, not caring where it landed on the bed. Just not next to him.

“How much more?”

His voice was low. Deep. Needing. You wanted more.

Another stroke of his fingers on your thigh, closer to where you wanted him the most made you shiver, toes curling. His gaze never left yours, never faultered. Instead of its usual lightness, his teasing and bullying- his eyes were dark with lust. Nothing but his full attention was on you, and you couldn’t help but shudder as he leaned in closer.

Another hand landed on your thigh. “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough as you nodded quickly. “Mhmmm..- oh!” you let out a little gasp as he swiftly grabbed you, swinging you over to straddle his lap, tossing you as if you weighed nothing.

You hated that you found it hot.

He smirked, leaning forward- so close you could feel his thudding heart with a small hand gesture sliding across his chest, could feel his breath catching. Just a small little gap between his lips and yours.

“You’re going to regret this.” you murdered, fingers curling into his shirt, twisting the soft fabric.

“I won’t. Will you?”

“I might.”

His smile grew.

“ I still hate you, you know.”

“I know. And you look so damn hot when you do.” He pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin, needing you closer and closer despite the two of you practically forming one being.

A clash of teeth and tongue happened, rough and harsh- full of hate and need. A hatred for your need for him. Why did you need him? Of all people?

Because he was so fucking fine.

A hand slipped under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it slightly. You ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it as your hips moved on their own account- causing a groan to slip from his lips.

You’d do anything to hear it again.

“This is so wrong.” was all you could moan as his lips worked their way down your neck, tracing your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.

“I don��t do right, pips. You know this.”

“Mhm. But you hate me.”

He laughed against your skin, and you rocked your hips again, a little slap to your asscheek making you jolt.

“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pips. Whatever you want to think.” he sighed, massaging the skin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

You needed his lips on yours. You didn’t want to even try to decipher what his words meant, your head was foggy with want. You were slipping into a puddle of bliss, finally letting the restraint you held on a tight leash go- freeing the want and pure desire.

Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you hated him. And yes, he teased you. It hurt- but this didn’t. This was a soothe to his constant jabs, a salve to the wounds he caused.

“You feel so good. I want you so bad.” you confessed, causing him to moan again.

Yes. Yes, please.

“You’re killing me.”

“Good. It’s payback for the way you treat me.” you smirked, kissing him again. Hard, fast, rough. Mean.

Until he just… stopped.

Pulled away slightly, making you raise an eyebrow with confusion. His cheeks tinted slightly pink, hair messy and eyes wide with excitement, eager to keep going. To go further. So why did he just- stop?

“Parker?”

He smiled coyly.

“Don’t we have work we need to be doing?” he asked sarcastically- and you felt your stomach drop. He was teasing you. He was doing this just to get under your skin, to leave you high and dry and needing. Knowing damn well nothing could possibly get done now but him.

“You- you just want to get back to work? After that?”

“I want to do the dirtiest things imaginable to you, pips. I want to do so many things. But if we keep going and get nothing done, you’ll regret it and hate me. If we get work done, you’ll hate me too. I rather you hate me but feel secure with this, at least.” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

It was tender, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “So you just, want to work? Did I do something wrong?” you asked.

“Gods no. But it’s too easy if I just give it to you like that. You know me, pips- I tease. Maybe if you’re good and get more work done we can have some harmless, regretless fun.” he winked, sliding his hands down to your hips, picking you up again to toss you gently on his pillows, kissing your hand with a wink as he stood to go back to his desk.

Oh you were fucked. So, so fucked.

“I heard that.” he laughed, and you buried your head in your hands. This was going to be a long three weeks indeed.

#peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #tasm peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #tasm peter #tasm fluff #tasm andrew garfield #tasm smut #andrew!peter fluff #andrew!peter imagine #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter smut #andrew garfield #andrew!peter fanfiction #spiderman fic #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spider man fic #peter parker spiderman #tasm fic #tasm fanfiction #andrew spiderman #spiderman smut #spider man fanfiction

[moonstruckme]

I went out with my friends yesterday cuz one of them threw a party and it was so much fun but omfg I'm so violently hung over can I pls get a fic with any of the boys and a hungover reader them just cuddling her but also being like I told u not to have that last drink....3 drinks ago

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mention of alcohol, hangover

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 443 words

Peter wants so badly to be noisy and obnoxious, but he’s quiet because he loves you. 

“Hey, bub,” he says near a whisper, crawling up beside you on the bed. “I think it’s probably time to wake up, don’t you?” 

Despite his best efforts with the blinds, insistent threads of golden afternoon light sneak in through the cracks, and you turn your face into the pillow as you moan. 

“Aw, I know.” Peter’s unable to keep the laughter out of his voice, pulling down the covers to rub between your shoulder blades. “My poor girl. Who did this to you, huh?” 

Your reply is muffled by both pillow and lethargy. “Shuddup.” 

His laugh comes out for real now. You squirm away from the sound, trying fruitlessly to burrow deeper into your pillow as Peter drops a kiss on your shoulder, bare where his t-shirt has slipped off. 

“I’ve got lukewarm water and painkillers,” he says enticingly. “Breakfast of champions.” 

Your hand emerges from beneath the covers, reaching for them. 

“Uh, no.” Peter poorly contains another chuckle as he leans away from your searching hand. “You’ve got to sit up to have it, sorry.” 

It takes time and effort, Peter helping you with a hand on your back, and when your eyes meet his amusement makes some room for pity. 

“Here you go, baby.” He holds out the water and pills. You rub your eyes before taking them, little flakes of crusted-on makeup falling onto the sheets. “Drink it all,” he says when you stop after the sip it takes to down the painkillers. “You’re dehydrated, that’s why your head hurts.” 

Your mouth puckers distastefully. “I’ll throw up,” you worry. 

“Small sips,” Peter agrees, kissing your shoulder rewardingly when you take another. You’re looking at him now, too, eyes watchful and expression stiff with some kind of indecision. “What is it?” 

You hesitate a second longer before asking, “Can we hug?” 

“Aw-w-w.” It stutters out of him on a laugh, and your face goes pouty as Peter slides his hands around your middle, hugging you sideways and resting his head atop yours. “Course we can, baby. You’re really feeling shitty, huh?” 

You make a pitiful sound, leaning into his touch. 

“Wishing you’d stopped after that fourth drink like I told you to?” 

Now your whine has more bite to it. Peter holds you tighter so you won’t leave, smiling as he kisses your hair. 

“That’s okay, my silly girl. Lucky you’ve got the world’s most forgiving boyfriend to take care of you, huh?” 

“It’d be nice,” you mutter, “if he were the world’s least gloat-y boyfriend too.” 

“Well, we can’t have it all, sweetheart.”

#tasm peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x self insert #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm spiderman #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker fanfic #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker drabble #tasm!peter parker scenario #tasm!peter parker blurb #tasm!peter parker one shot #tasm!peter parker oneshot #the amazing spiderman fandom #the amazing spiderman fanfiction #the amazing spiderman #tasm #tasmania #tasm fanfiction #tasm fluff #tasm x reader

[spiderfunkz]

thinking about peter parker whos girlfriend is a total book nerd . . . where he'd always take you on dates to the bookstore and insists on buying you a new book. where he'd follow you around the store like a lost puppy while you run around trying to find the book you want.

peter parker who'd always be there to comfort you when your favorite character meets their end, where he would say, "maybe they'll get resurrected in the next book, who knows?" while awkwardly smiling, which usually puts you in the mood again to smile and laugh at his attempt to comfort you. "the series is done peter, that was the last book." you sniff, "hey maybe they'll do a cameo in the prequel!"

peter parker who'd listen to your rambles about your most recent read and do research afterwards because he couldn't process all the lore properly and got confused halfway as you were talking. but even when he is confused, he still listens and nods anyways.

peter parker who waited for it to rain at night so he could recreate the 'kissing & dancing in the rain' scene from one of your favorite books because you wouldn't stop talking about it, and he personally thinks you deserve to experience that at least once. you both ended up getting a cold

peter parker who lays beside you and reads comics while you're reading your books. where he'd slowly inch closer and closer to you and rest his head on your shoulder, placing his comic book down and just slowly fall asleep on your shoulder as you whisper the lines from your book.

peter parker who'd secretly read along from behind and dramatically gasps when a character does something remotely weird. where at the end you two would just start gossiping about how that character would do such things.

#tasm #tasm peter #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #tasm fanfiction #tasm peter fluff #tasm fluff #tasm!peter #tasm imagines #tasm imagine #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker headcanon #peter parker imagine #the amazing spiderman #the amazing spider man #the amazing spiderman fluff #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm blurb #peter parker blurb #tasm!spiderman x reader #andrew garfield!peter parker

[madxyy]

Selfish

| pairing : peter x reader

| summary: your boyfriend comes home injured--as usual--late at night and you can't help but want him safe from his life as spider-man

| warnings: fluff, touching wrists (sigh, again), y/n used once, baby used, peter being cute and angsty as usual, reader also being cute, light angst

author's note: i am trying to write angst so bare with me lol

2 am. 

It’s always when you hear that faint knock on your window that makes all your worries wash away in a split second. But not today, no, today was different. You were waiting all night to hear that thud on the firescape or the cries of the window seal being opened. All night you were absorbed in your own anxieties and worries. Your hopes were dreading as time went by. You were getting scared for the local crime fighting hero and you did everything in your power to take your mind off it.

You really did. 

Drawing, watching tv, listening to music, cleaning the room—which was a bad idea as it just bought you a reminder of the boy who has your heart. You would stumble upon Peter's belongings that were scattered around your shared apartment like confetti: his engineering notes, his sweaters, his latest sketch of a brilliant idea he had to improve his spider-man suit. It only made your heart ache even more, longing for his presence and increasing your worries for your vigilante boyfriend. So you would take another route and try binge-watching a new season of a recent tv show you are watching, which would likely just be collecting dust in the column of ‘continue watching.’

Your mind keeps on going back to him. ‘He’s okay. He’s okay.’ You thought to yourself. ‘He’s coming back to me. He’ll be alright. He’s probably on his way right now. It’s just going to be a scratch, hopefully. He's going to be okay, right? Oh god. Oh god.’ 

As much as you love and adore that your boyfriend is helping the city and its people by saving anyone from another lab experiment gone wrong or from a dangling car that’s about to fall off a bridge, you can't help but wonder if he would ever take care of himself. It’s hard seeing him everytime he comes through your window with a new bruise on his keen jawline, a wound on his ribs, a scar on his hip. You couldn’t deal with it anymore. You wish he stopped just for his own safety. You know it’s selfish but is it so wrong to want him safe? Just the thought of turning on the news and seeing J. Jameson reporting: “Breaking News: Our local friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man reported dead by …” 

You want him back with you already, his arms wrapped around you, drowning you into his warm embrace, so distinctly Peter, while he whispers soft and reassuring words that always mend your heart. You long to hear his random facts about science, see his lopsided smile that always welcomes you back into reality whenever you wake up next to him each morning. You yearn for his contagious laugh that makes your heart throb in delight over the euphonious sound. You want to smile at the tics he does when he gets nervous or the way he avoids eye contact and scratches the back of his neck when he is stuck in an awkward situation. You want him to be back so you can smooch the newly embedded scars that are planted all over his body which you love kissing away everyday when he wakes up. You want to see his dimples that adorn his face when he smiles wide enough because he finally got his web shooters to work, followed by a triumph fist bump to the air. You want to see his eyes, oh his eyes: brown, soft, autumnal, brimming with love and warmth, despite the grief and cruelty he has been absorbed in. His scent, a mix of cedarwood and asphalt (due to his high-flying urban adventures). You want to see the way his hair sticks up in the morning whilst the sun gives it a mixture of honey and bronze aura, running your hands through the mused up tufts of hair, which always leads to the corners of his eyes crinkling up as a sleepy, boyish smile tugs up on his rosy lips. 

Selfish. You can’t help it. 

You waited as long as you could; staring at your window for who knows how long. Your eyes were trained on the window for a good while, but you couldn't help it, all this anxiety finally got to you and you were feeling drained and your posture slumps with exhaustion. Your eyes burn from keeping them open, and soon those same eyes start to slowly droop. Blinking back sleepiness proved futile; your head eventually settled onto the cool silk of your pillow. The material greets your cheek, making it easier for you to be welcomed into slumber. 

It was 4 am, yet your worries haven’t gone down at all. Your eyelids started to grow heavier, and darkness gradually enveloped your senses, until you heard a faint knock on your window, piercing the silence. 

Your heart leapt, and you twisted towards the sound. In an instant, sleep was gone.

Not even a second later you heard your window opening—mm the sound of the cries. Your tired, red eyes snapped open. You were met with a disheveled and drained Peter Parker. His hair sticking to the nape of his neck and forehead, sweat giving him a post-shower appearance. A large laceration marred his chest. Oh. Your stomach dropped, eyes widened with horror at the sight of the injury. It looked like he was scratched -- no, clawed by someone or something. With quick motion, you quickly peel away the sheets, disentangling yourself from its soft embrace, and quickly hurrying to his side.

“Peter” you gasped softly. A hand settles onto his latex-clad one, the other arm wrapping around his waist to support him as you guide both him towards your bed, placing him where you had lain just seconds before. “It’s not that bad, don’t worry about it, seriously, I mean you should see the o-” Peter quickly swallows his words upon seeing your stern glare. He slumps his head downwards as he sighs in defeat. 

You sigh, telling him quietly that you'll be back soon. You left him for a few moments before coming back with a wet rag. Gently, you tug at the suit, trying to cautiously take it off him without aggravating his wounds. Soon, you were met with his bare torso, which is marked with a huge claw mark. You mentally steel yourself before starting to lightly clean around the injury, dabbing the wet rag gently onto his toned chest as you avoid his eyes. It’s not like you were trying to make him feel bad, but you were also trying to cope with the situation. You don’t know if you were mad, relieved, sad, maybe all of the above? Uncertain emotions swirl within you, but one fact anchors your turbulent thoughts: he is here, safe, and alive. That's what truly matters.

Peter seems to catch your avoided gaze, he studies you for a few minutes. Biting the inside of his cheek as he purses his lips to the side, trying to figure out how to approach this situation. He takes in your furrowed eyebrows, the way you’re also biting the inside of your cheek as you put all your strength into avoiding his worried amber eyes. He knew the consequences of inviting someone into his dangerous life, it wasn’t exactly a warm and inviting embrace, nor was it appealing, but what he didn’t fully grasp is how it truly hurts you, in more ways than one.  “Y/N…” he whispered, rough hands that have been through so much and experienced so much, reaching for the comfort of your skin but you gently dodge his touch, leading to a sudden twinge of anguish in his heart. You give him a slight smile to distinguish any suspicion – I mean, you weren’t doing a good job at it – before you continued cleaning the dirt away from his injury. Peter’s eyebrows furrow while his lips start to droop downwards, a frown laid upon his lips at the rejection. 

Biting the inside of your cheek harder to stop the tears from flowing down the curve of your cheekbones. You keep on wiping his cuts clean, overs and overs again, getting flashbacks of his visits from the last time you had to patch him up. Blurred vision starts taking over your eyesight and all you can think about is his pain, what he goes through, his blood, the thought of losing him, life without him, the many ‘what ifs.’ The many times he almost visited death's door. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was like a burning sensation bubbling in the back of your throat, the sadness was too hard to keep buried down now. You started shaking and before you knew it your sobs filled the walls and all your fears were coming out of you in the form of a liquid pea that contained so much. As soon as the warm liquid left a path down the curve of your cheeks, peter panicked and rose to action just like the hero he is—your hero. 

Quickly sitting up and fixing his posture, which made him wince slightly from the injuries but he pushed through, his mind set on you and only you. He wipes the tear away with the pad of his thumb and takes the wet rag away from your slightly shaky grip; gently putting it on your nightstand before he lightly reaches both of his hands out and holds onto your wrists.

“I can't” You choke out a sob. 

“Hey shh it’s okay baby, what’s wrong? You can’t, what? Tell me,” He coos. 

He hunches down, trying to find those eyes of yours that he swears are otherworldly, but you just can’t. You can’t see him like this. Hurt. In pain. Suffering. It pains you that he is in this much pain -- you can’t. “Peter I just… ” he gently takes your face in his hand, caressing your cheekbones with his thumbs that are growing wet from your moist cheeks. His heart hurts from the sight of you crying, it conjures a deep-seated throb of pain in his eyes. “Look at me,” he whispers softly, gently nudging your head up with his right hand that is slowly descending down to grasp your chin as if you were a treasure, in a way you are, to peter you are his treasure, the main reason he even gets up or even tries, you are his rock, the only thing that makes sense in his life, and god does he love you, he loves you so much that his heart hurts. A quiet sigh escapes you, it sounds defeated. “Please,” He pleaded oh-so-gently, his gaze unwavering but patient. You sniffle before swallowing down a ball of saliva forming in your throat. As soon as you look up you are met with a pair of almond-shaped umber eyes that are filled with the utmost care, worry, and a hint of guilt. 

“Talk to me..” he whispers desperately, his heart crushing at the pain you are experiencing, he just wants to take it all away with his soft whispers but he knows they will be in vain. Shakingly exhaling “I can’t,” you frantically shake your head. “Please baby…” A few silent beats pass before you finally look back up to find those amber eyes looking back at you with nothing but worry and sincerity. 

You take a deep breath before swallowing deeply ”Peter...I just…” another beat passes. You take a sharp deep breath. “I just really wish you would take more care of yourself, I...I know you love saving people and fighting crime and trust me I love you deeply for that but you come home everyday with a new wound that’s even deadlier than the last one,” You pause, licking your salty lips. “aren’t you worried that maybe those people that you save won’t have anyone to save them if they’re local neighborhood spider-man won’t be there to save them anymore..?” You ask him, almost in a plea. Peter bites the inside of his cheek, thinking over your words with a solemn expression forming on his face that are littered in small cuts from his last escapades. He diverts his gaze to the floor and the room is quickly overcome with silence as he takes in your words, letting the heaviness of your words sink in.

The silence fills the room, it lets you both engulf into your own thoughts. Peter knew what it meant when he finally told you he was the unmasked superhero. He remembers spilling his deadly secret on a rooftop late at night, where you both were admiring the stars, laying on a blanket and talking about anything and everything. He remembers looking over at you and admiring the way the moon was cascading down on you, making you look even more angelic and completely ethereal. 

Peter looks at you hurt and guilty and god do you hate that. Both of you guys shared a gaze that held so much that it made the room feel denser as the distant sounds of ambulances filtered through the slightly open window. A breeze wafts in, brushes against you both, causing small goosebumps to prick up on your skin. Peter grew to learn from his past relationships and the impact it had on his partner knowing he was Spider-Man, which is why it hurts him to know he is the one making you feel like this. A calloused hand slowly creeps up, gently grasping your cheek with the utmost care, as if you were made of glass and he was scared of causing further harm. “I know, I know,” He murmurs, his voice breaking while his toughened fingers absentmindedly traces the curve of your cheek. “It’s just so hard to stop when I know I can make a difference.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat as his words sink in. Your heart breaks knowing how much his words are true and the scary reality that he won’t stop until crime is put to bed and everyone can roam around the streets freely. You shook your head, one hand gently grasping his wrist. “But at what price, Pete?” you ask ever-so-softly like the question itself was forbidden territory. Those eyes that he loves so deeply, look up into his eyes and it causes a gnawing feeling in his chest, almost making him wince from how hurt you look, how scared you look. Peter bites the inside of his cheek a bit harder while furrowing his brows, trying to think of what to tell you because he himself doesn’t know.

He takes a shaky breath, adjusting the grip on your face and slowly pulling your head a bit closer until both of your foreheads are resting against one another, a silent plea for understanding in his eyes. The brush of skin itself was tender-filled, telling a millions of words with just one movement. “I am just sick of all the crimes happening here and the cops not even doing anything about it.” Peter whispered, his voice a low blend of anger and helplessness. You could feel the raggedness of his breath, each exhale a testament to the battles he fought alone in the shadows of the city. The close proximity allowed you to see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his eyes shuttered as if bracing against a storm of inner conflict. “Peter, I know you care – it’s one of the things I love about you,” you respond gently, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his clammy forehead. “But you can’t carry this burden alone. It’s too much for one person, even for Spider-Man.” Your voice was a soothing whisper, trying to pierce the armor of duty he wore so steadfastly.  

Peter simply nodded, the weight of the world momentarily lightened by your understanding. You saw the fortress around his heart crumbling, if only just a bit. His eyes, usually so vibrant and full of life, now shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the constant battle between his duty and his love for you.

“I’m sorry…” Peter’s voice broke through the silence, each word heavy with remorse. He leans forwards, delicately kissing your forehead which grounds you and makes you close your eyes momentarily as you cherish the soft kiss that eases your heart just a bit. “I am sorry for not fully understanding what you are going through. I am so, so sorry,” He whispers into the dark night, the words flowing into the air as gently as ever. A few beats of silence pass while you take in his words. It gave your weary heart time to mend. Peter leaned back slightly so he could get a better look at you, his gaze locked with yours, conveying a depth of sincerity and vulnerability. “I’m truly, deeply, sorry” He whispers once more before he starts to softly press kisses underneath where your ear and jaw meet, your cheeks, forehead, nose, the wrinkles in the middle of your eyebrows, smoothing them out with the pad of his thumb, and finally kissing your lips, so delicately, it makes you want to cry even more. 

The kiss was so deliberate, it was a bundle of promises that his lips sealed to keep, an abundance of love, tenderness, deep affection and care that runs so deeply into his veins that it affects his touches and kisses, he can’t help but pour it all into the kiss, he just wanted you to know how sorry he is. He wanted you to know that he never meant to hurt you, whether it was indirect or direct. It makes your heart flutter and reassures your timid heart. Slowly one hand moves to cup the left side of your face as his other hand descends down towards the side of your neck as peter tastes the saline on your moist-tear lips, but even that doesn’t stop him from pressing gentle kisses against your lips, it only fuels his love, turning the kisses even more tender. Each kiss conveys a message of “I’m sorry, I love you, please know I love you.” You can taste the metallic on his lips as your lips were caressing his back as equally gently and lovingly, your kisses filled with a message of “It’s okay, I love you.” 

Peter slowly pulls back from the kiss, his mouth hovers over yours, his breath fanning over your lips, noses rubbing against each other in the tenderest manner ever. Both of your eyes were still closed, taking in everything, cherishing one another. His right hand moving back up to cradle your face, both hands cradling your cheeks and caressing them with the pad of his thumbs in a feather-like caress. You nuzzle your cheek against his right hand, feeling the rough and calloused palm that you grew to admire and adore. It always provided you with such care and comfort, always caressing or reaching out to gently touch you. Both of your hands now encircled around his wrist, caressing the inside of it so softly that it makes Peter almost melt.

Slowly, Peter opens his eyes. His amber gaze held nothing but love and the utmost care. Shortly after he opened his eyes, your eyes opened as well. Both of you search each other’s eyes as a white noise of admiration passes you both. After a moment of silent communion, the air between you both thickens with unspoken words and shared feelings, Peter finally speaks, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet room. “I can’t promise there won’t be more nights like this,” he says, his honesty laying bare the truth of both of your lives entwined with danger and uncertainty. “But I promise you, no matter how many crazy guys in suits I have to fight, I’ll always do my best to come back… to this, to us.”

This promise, simple yet profound, strikes a chord within you. It’s not a heroic declaration from Spider-Man, but a heartfelt vow from Peter Parker, the boy behind the mask, the one you fell in love with. His words acknowledge the reality of his life—danger is part of the package, yet he’s equally committed to your shared life, to you, and he isn’t going anywhere.

You feel a surge of mixed emotions: fear for the dangers he faces, gratitude for his honesty, and love for the person he is. “And I’ll be here,” you say, matching his tone with a blend of seriousness and affection, “not just to patch you up and be your personal nurse, but to love you.” The corners of his lips quirk up, his eyes twinkling with love as he takes in your words. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, a silent vow of his commitment. “Thank you,” he whispers, gratitude resonating in his voice, “for everything.”

“Of course,” You whispered. 

The two of you stay like that, embraced in the warmth of your love for one another, finding comfort in the silence that now speaks volumes. The world outside, with its chaos and challenges, seems momentarily distant as you both cherish this safe haven of understanding and love you’ve created together.

#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #the amazing spider man #andrew garfield #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman #tasm andrew garfield #light angst #fluff #peter parker fluff #tasm fluff

[dwindlinghaze]

reader pretending she (or they) doesn’t love peter back when he confesses because she is scared to lose him as a friend if they break up so after some angst and pining and avoiding feelings they end up together? ty!

main thing

(peter parker x reader)

summary : you're scared of losing peter as a friend by being more than friends with him.

contents : fluff, small angst ig, she they pronouns used!!! kind of short and rushed im so sorry but i love this concept a lot so thank you anon !!! 🫧🫧

a/n : im back!!!!! im really sorry if my writting is messy and stuff cuz i haven't been writing fics for months noww,, anyway i hope u like it 🫧☃️☁️ and a little rant here um i have this exact situation with a girl- i like her a lot and i knew she liked me back but i also happened to know that if we were to be together it will not last very long so we just ignore whatever is there between us. but don't worry lovelies r and peter's ending won't be like mine <3

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the hallway between classes were so full. crowded by students walking in eight cardinal directions. your head felt dizzy, it's like you're seeing everything underwater. your steps came to a halt when you were met with a row of lockers. palm against the cold metal as you gain back your stability.

peter must've seen you from the other side of the hall. frowning as he took in your state.

he walked over to you, cautiously. "you okay?"

you looked up to meet his eyes, immediately closing them back when the ceiling light hit your vision. "not feeling well."

peter placed his left palm over your cheek, rubbing them softly to soothe you. he didn't know if it helped but he smiled nevertheless when you nuzzled your face further into his hand.

you wanted peter to give you a hug, maybe his shoulder can be a good resting spot for your heavy head and his warmth can relax your muscles.

and of course. peter did. without you even asking.

"wanna go to the infirmary?" he asked softly, rubbing the side of your head as you completely lose all energy, so now he's the one that held you standing.

"mmh," you replied, not having the energy to form real words.

"alright then let's go," peter started to pull away but stopped midway when he felt you struggling.

"pete, i'm sorry i can't, i have to lay down," you whispered. so soft and low. if he weren't that close to you, he wouldn't hear it.

"that's alright, just slow steps," he encouraged.

he missed his class but he didn't care. he just wanted to be there with you. showing his affection because of his new slash old found love he has for you.

your migraine has not subsided at all the following day. you decided, for good, to skip class. there's no point in going to school when you're sick anyway right? you'll have ended up in a worse condition by the end of the day.

peter was searching for you left and right, he knew you were sick and he is worried sick about your whereabouts. he called you several times already but you never picked up.

when school finally finished, which for him was the longest six hours of his life, he immediately went to your house.

your mother was the one greeting him, saying that you're resting in the comfort of your bed. he went upstairs, after getting your mom's permission, and knocked on your door softly. "hey, it's me peter, can i come in?"

you gave him a very soft hum, thanks to his advanced hearing he can hear you just well.

you were lying on your bed, covered in tons of blankets. peter felt warmth rushing through his chest, seeing you like this. he approached you slowly and kneeled beside your bed.

"how are you feeling?" he asked ever so gently, hand on your shoulder with the blanket in between.

you peeked an eye open, your room was dimly lit, only your vanity lights were on. "better than yesterday," you answered, pushing yourself up slowly. "the migraine is not as bad as yesterday, my head is hurting- just a little."

"oh okay," peter replied. "do you need anything? i can bring you food or drink or water? do you need painkillers?"

you smiled, reaching for his hand, "i'm fine pete, just cold. can you turn up the ac please?"

peter did just that, jumping to his feet to take the remote.

after that you fell into a deep sleep again. peter was there the whole time. he was thinking about... stuff. stuff he wants to tell you.

he sat on your bed right beside your blanketed legs, his hands over them. he looked at you, your sleepy face, perfect hair, soft cheeks. you are his friend. best friend in the whole world. no one understands him like you did. just a few months ago he realised that his feelings may have grown.

it's not just a friendship kind of love but a lover kind of love.

he recalled the amount of time he had cried on your arms. laughed together with you. talk about embarrassing things he had done and had regretted. nobody knows him like you do. and peter would not let anybody know him like you do.

you're the only person that he can be vulnerable with. the only one that he can just be himself even if it's not the best. the only one he trusts.

"what are you thinking over there?" your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. he gave you a smile and you gave peter space for him to lie down.

"just thinking about thoughts... ?" peter answered but it's more like a question.

"thoughts about?"

"nothing."

"you know you can always tell me anything right? no matter what it is," you assured the boy.

"yeah..."

"so...?"

"you're sick right now, you should be resting," he said instead.

you sat up, stretching your muscles as you scrunched up your face. "i feel a whole lot better now... hey do you want some meal and we'll talk about whatever you are thinking about? cause by the look of your face, it's something that has been bothering you hm?."

peter thought about it for a while, but he really didn't have to. it was about time for him to tell you how he feels. he just hoped that you feel the same way.

your mom brought the two of you dinner to your room, you thanked her before she left and urged peter to eat. "pete?"

"yeah," he cleared his throat, "um i don't really know how to start this."

"it's okay, you can take as much time as you want, i'll be here," you said as you take a spoonful of the dinner.

that's also another thing about you that made his feelings even more clear. you never pushed him. always waiting for him to be ready.

"i like someone," he started. you stopped what you were doing and turn your focus fully on him. your heart felt like it has been crushed. "i know we never talk about y'know- this kind of stuff together but the thing is, i like her so much maybe i even love her, i don't know yet though cause i don't really know how love feels- but i sure do like her a lot."

"and does she know this?"

"no... but she knows now" peter answered, hoping that you'd get what he meant.

"what do you mean?"

peter sighed looking down at his lap, "well she's my best friend. my only friend actually. i really really want to be more than friends with them because she is everything to me. i smile every morning because i know i will see them later that day. i spent most of my time thinking about the two of us together. and you know just how worried i was when they didn't go to school because she was sick."

"peter-" you warned him.

"y/n, listen to me-"

"peter please don't," you whispered. you thought you would be jumping and giggling if peter ever confessed to you but instead it's the complete opposite. you don't want this. you can't have this no matter how much of you wanted him.

peter's eyes were brimming with emotion, shiny tears fighting their way not to roll down. "you don't feel the same do you?"

you wanted to say yes. yes you feel the same, you like him so much and that's what you're so worried about. "peter it's not that easy. we- we can't," you shook your head.

peter's brows knitted together, he was bitting the insides of his lower lip. "that's ok. i'll just go home now. i'm sorry for making things weird yeah? just forget everything i said. tomorrow is a new day." he forced a smile before he is out the door.

just like what peter has said 'tomorrow is a new day' so you acted like yesterday never happened. you walked into school, seeing peter by his locker. you smiled at him. "morning!"

"morning, y/n," peter said back, voice cracking.

"let's go to class," you suggested.

through out the day everything was just like how it used to be. you still sit besides each other. still eat lunch together. everything was the same... except that peter can't look at you for more than three seconds and you two don't talk as much anymore.

peter still walked you home, though there is no goodbye hug.

you wondered if you had made the wrong decision. what if you just accept your feelings and let peter in? but the thoughts of ever, god forbid, breaking up with him is what makes you back away from accepting his love.

you love peter so much. more than you can ever say. in a world of boys he's a gentleman. he proved so today. even after getting rejected and having his own heart torn into pieces, he still walked you home.

the next day though, peter seemed to be avoiding you.

you tried to come to him several times but he just gives you short replies. you couldn't blame him. he has every right to do so.

it has been two weeks since. you missed your peter so much. you missed his cheeky smile. his science jokes. his laugh that never fails to make you smile.

sure you can live without peter parker, but would it be as exciting? would you let the only person that knows you best slipped away like that just because you pretend to not return his feelings?

it was such an emotional rollercoaster. on one hand you want to wake up beside peter, but on the other you worried that he'll realize that he's better alone so you'd break up. you want to cuddle up next to him, but you fear he'll get sick of you and break up.

why does every intimate thought of him always ends up with breaking up?

you tried to bottle up your feeling until you can't anymore. so here you are now, knocking at his door.

he opened up, looking as tired as one can be. now that you really look at him, you notice his beautiful freckles that doted all over his nose and cheeks, his smile lines around his eyes, his pretty eyes that you love so much. even in his exhausted state he still looked so- so perfect.

"y/n? what're you doing here?" peter spoke.

"i want to talk to you." you mumbled, looking down at the pavement.

peter was silent. complete silence.

"i want to tell you that i do like you too, peter. i was just being dumb because you're my best friend for years and if we ever get together, what will happen when we break up? i don't want to lose you. so by pushing my feelings aside i can just continue like nothing happened... but i can't stop thinking about how i have hurt you. i completely denied and hurt your feelings and i can't forgive myself for that."

peter put a warm hand over your shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth.

"it's fine. if you don't want this then we don't have to." he said.

"but i want this."

"you do?"

"yes but-," you took a deep breath, "but what if we broke up?"

peter shook his head at that, "we haven't even got together yet and you're thinking of breaking up?"

"it's not funny."

"y/n look at me, i love you. i will not let that happen. and if you really think about it, what is there to be the reason of our break up?"

"i don't know something might come up."

"we know everything about each other, we understand each other. if there's something, i'm so so sure we can work it out," peter placed a hand on your cheek, forehead touching.

"really think so?"

"of course," he replied. "i'm also sorry for saying that so suddenly. i should've known better."

"it's okay peter, we're here."

"yeah we are, and we are not leaving each other yeah?"

"promise," you said.

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tasm x reader #tasm fluff #tasm fic #peter parker blurb #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic

[spydergaz]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ not a lot, just forever.

🍂📀🍁

word count : 654

cw: fluff, no actual pronouns used, peter is awkward as hell, idk your vibe, but it’s a good one, peter is a cranberries fan.

a/n: i haven’t properly written something in forever :/ but i’m trying i swear lol. i was also listening to Adrianne Lenker while writing this so that may have influenced this a bit.

the leaves crunch under your converses as you walk, your arms swinging loosely by your sides as you wave your hands in the breeze. you’re walking across campus to your next class, a routine you've grown fond of due to the simplicity of it all. you consider yourself a simple person, you enjoy small things like rocks and the sound of the river that flows under the bridge of your campus.

you’re also noticeably quiet, so much so that your teachers have stopped trying to get you to participate in group discussions. you don’t mind though, you’re content being by yourself.

and so is peter. he’s just as quiet as you, he always has headphones on. you can faintly hear his music, you like the fact that he likes the cranberries, you do too. but he tends to sit away from you, he doesn’t hate you, how could he? the way you skip around campus, the way you collect and paint rocks, the way you sit by the river, the way you’re so freely yourself.

his crush on you is something you’re oblivious too, and he’s too scared to even look at you. he’s read so many books on nature related topics that he might turn into a walking weed, he’s replayed a conversation with you in his head so much he could write a script about it. he wants to ask you to get coffee, he’s seen you sip coffee once or twice, maybe he’ll ask you to see a movie?

he knows you like superheroes, he sees the superman pin on your tote bag. but talking to you seems like his kryptonite, like he’ll die if he tries.

but today he’ll try, he’ll try and push past that fear and talk to you.

~

it’s the afternoon, you’re sitting on a bench and quietly sketching the trees in front of you. your foot lightly tapping on the grass to your music that plays softly in your headphones.

he feels like he’s being creepy, holding flowers for a person who doesn’t even know him. but he sighs and walks up to you, cringing at himself as he taps your shoulder.

“hi uhm, i’m not trying to be creepy but-“ he’s cut off by your eyes peering into his, he feels so small when you look at him with those pretty eyes.

“are those flowers?”

“for you.”

“me..?” you smile as he hands them to you, they’re some sunflowers, they’re fake, but the gesture is nice anyways. “the real ones are super expensive and uh-“

you shake your head and look up at him again. “i get it, it’s okay.” he nervously laughs, mindlessly fidgeting with his fingers.

“could i ask your name?” you reply with your name and he smiles, smiles that you trust him enough already for that. “i’m peter parker, i promise i’m a lot more composed usually.”

you laugh at the self deprecating joke.

“i’ve seen you in class.”

“well i don’t tend to turn invisible, i’ve seen you too. which is why i’m giving you flowers.”

you smile, you appreciate how nice he is and how awkward he is too. “i was- am asking you out by the way, if you’re… interested?” you nod, laughing a bit.

“well don’t laugh at me, i’m trying!” his voice is mockingly whiny as he laughs with you. “but you’re like.. okay with going on a date?” you nod again, stifling your laughter for his sake.

“how does a cafe sound?”

“i like the sound of that, I’m always in a mood for coffee.”

“when do you… wanna go?”

“tomorrow? after class?”

“holy shi- uh- yeah that’s okay.” and with that he stands there awkwardly before clearing his throat and nodding, sighing of relief. “yeah i’ll see you tomorrow! uh, i’ve gotta bounce.” you nod in response and wave him goodbye as he runs off, you can practically hear the smile in his voice.

© spydergaz.tumblr please don't claim my work as your own, copy it, or put it on different websites without my consent. Translations are welcome if you do not post them. ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

#spydergaz...!! #spydergaz... writes!! #peter parker #peter parker x reader #andrew garfield #tasm peter parker #tasm fluff

[periprose]

I don't know if my ask got 'eaten' or not, but I did send it while I was on the road so I may have screwed it up anyway. My ask is based on your reblog of the 3 word sentences and if you care to, it's a twofer based plot: numbers 12 and 18 (just do it and you look lost) because I am a dithering decision maker except!! when I am going somewhere in which case my overconfidence gets me in trouble, something Peter knows too well himself. Love your writing!

unfortunately it did but I love this prompt so thank you for resending it!

Prompts can be found here

Peter is fairly sure that he's the one who's always late to everything. Every single seminar for this new Oscorp tech breakdown, he's the one who's five minutes late, and he swears it's not his fault.

It's just that he always happens to run into Spider-Man duties. He always finds another old woman who needs to cross the street, or a newspaper stand that has just been stolen from, and then after saving the day, he can make time towards catching the next subway train to Oscorp and hopefully run up the stairs, through the door, into the lobby, elevator, and then to the board room with a minute to spare. It always works out better in his head. 

He doesn't understand why Harry needs him there. Peter knows technology stuff like the back of his hand– he already understood what the seminar leader who oversaw the development of the new tech was saying halfway through the meeting, and basically put the concluding points together before the meeting was even over. 

Peter is nothing if not a good friend. Or employee who will be sent off with a strict warning if he doesn’t at least try.

This time, though? Peter has just made it to the subway station, and his glance catches onto a woman with a muted blue handbag, looking mostly competent and professional in a blazer, staring at the map, very obviously confused. He decides to be a good civilian and take a moment to help her. Just as Peter Parker, good guy who has two extra minutes to spare. Not because she happens to be a little more pleasant to look at than the rest of the passerby. She does really have bright eyes, though, and the way they catch onto every written detail of the map has Peter wanting those eyes on him.

Unfortunately, as she’s dithering and Peter approaches a little too slowly, about to work up the nerve to ask if she needs help, she suddenly mutters “Just do it! Who cares…” with a sudden bout of confidence, and she walks off towards the train heading North. The same train Peter is due to take.

Peter is kind of elated by this, even though he knows he’s a total dork and he doesn’t actually have the courage to speak to her. Even though Harry makes life sound like a romance movie– that apparently all it takes is the right conversation starter– Peter knows he can’t manage it. He’ll trip over his words and make the wrong jokes, and she’ll give him a polite nod while secretly dialing 911.

He’s just happy to have a commute crush to stare at.

The southbound train arrives from the opposite side of the road, and loudly beeps as the doors open.

Peter’s Spider-Sense goes off and he sees that a bunch of people are starting to exit the train, right into the poor woman who gets turned around a bunch of times and then looks utterly lost. Helpless. Eyes widening with the telltale fear of someone who doesn’t know where they’re going. 

Well, we can’t have that, can we? Peter decides to saunter up to her and be her hero of the day.

/

You are so horrible with making decisions sometimes. Unless, of course, it’s taking a new journey somewhere, with directions you’re not exactly familiar with– for some reason leaping into it headfirst works better, cements it into your brain better if you have to travel around these parts around later, and you usually have the time to figure it out.

Of course, this time you’re late. This time, when you need to present a great big presentation at Oscorp, where your big new tech job is, you’re late, and you had to be overconfident about figuring out the directions.

God, couldn’t you have just asked for help?

As you’re beginning to spiral– was it the north train, or the south, will this crowd ever dissipate properly, and is there time to look at your notes for your presentation on the train?– someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey.” A friendly looking guy with warm brown hair, and eyes, is staring at you, not unkindly. He pulls you aside, out of the crowd, and you’re thankful– but a little wary. 

“You look lost. Are you good?” The man has to lean in closer to you, and kind of yell-speak over the crowd, who are finally moving away to the above ground.

“Uh… No. I’ll be honest.” You cross your arms and huff, glad that someone could see that you needed help, and you feel a little happy that your saviour happened to be a smart, handsome guy who doesn’t look particularly judgemental, and you pull out your phone from your bag. “I’m trying to get to–”

“Oscorp?” He reads your phone and blinks, and then looks affronted that he spoke so soon. “Sorry. I just read your phone screen– I know that’s not proper etiquette. I’m going there too.”

“Uh-huh.” You fix your eyes on him, and Peter feels a funny twinge in his heart– something warm and soft as you size him up, making your own teasing assumptions of him. You half-smirk. “How do I know I can trust you? That you won’t just lead me to a random dungeon full of murdered women?”

You feel that you might’ve scared him off– you always come off a little too strong.

“Uhhhh, I was going to say I probably don’t look like a serial killer, but then again, you never know as a woman, right? Plus that’s some unnecessary bias and profiling on my part.” Peter fishes around in his pocket for his Oscorp ID, snorting at your joke, but also knowing that you’re not wrong to be concerned. “See? I’m Peter Parker. One of Oscorp’s biotech engineers.”

“Alliterative. Very cool.” You smile at him genuinely, glad to see that he is worth trusting, and he’s about to say something when the northbound train comes in.

“Hey, that’s us. Just two stops and then we’re at Oscorp.” Peter lets you walk ahead of him into the train, and you do so with some speed.

“Nervous?” He asks as the train starts going. He’s holding onto the loop for stability, while you lean against an arm rail. The train is kind of packed– and Peter is just a teeny bit happy for it, since it means he gets to stand a little close to you. He’s not trying to be a creep– you’re just cute.

“Very.” You shake out your hands, trying to chill out, and then reach inside your bag for your cue cards. “I’m starting out as a software developer– working on a genome editing program– and I’m doing a presentation on that today.”

“Oh, I’m in that seminar too. Although usually it’s just some dude presenting… not exactly someone like you.” Peter immediately facepalms, hiding in his hands for a moment before shaking his head, brown hair flopping about. “Sorry, I just mean… he’s not a cute girl, you know?”

Nice going, Parker. Peter groans and his hands remain on his face now, totally embarrassed by what he’s said.

“Oh–” You turn to him, but Peter interrupts you first.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean your looks are everything– I know how hard it is to be a woman in STEM, to get judged on things that have nothing to do with your credentials–” Peter swallows and sighs. “I’m not saying you were hired for your face– I’m sure you’re a very intelligent person.”

Peter feels your hand hesitantly touch his and move them, so he can get a look at your expression. You don’t look upset, just flattered, maybe with a hint of a laugh crossing your eyes.

“Hey, don’t worry. I didn’t take it that way. Good to know you’re not a typical STEM bro, though.” You read through your notes again, and Peter feels a bit of relief. “Thanks, by the way. You’re a cute guy too.”

You don’t know where exactly that came from, maybe an unexpected bout of courage bolstered by the adrenaline from your oncoming presentation, but it’s not like it’s false– this guy is very cute and you know you’re going to struggle if you have to work with him. You can’t quite look at Peter for the rest of the train ride, staring out the window. You catch a little grin on his face.

/

“So, genome editing, huh? That’s actually part of my work right now. Except more in the lab at the moment– working on synthesising frog DNA.” Peter shudders jokingly, and you laugh as you walk with him.

“Yeah, I’m basically the one who made the software program you’ll be using from now on. I just gotta make it easy for you guys to understand.” You inhale, and Peter can see that you’re still really nervous about your presentation. 

“Hey.” He gives you a comforting squeeze of the shoulder, in front of the building. “You got this.”

“Really?” You look up at him, bright eyes glassy with sudden fears. “But you don’t really know me, right? For all you know, I’m going to run out of the room with stage fright.”

“No way.” Peter grins, self assuredly. “You wouldn’t be talking to an almost stranger if that was true.”

“I mean… kind of true. I just don’t want to mess up.” You sigh and pinch your forehead, thinking it over.

“Okay, how about this?” Peter decides on something silly, but something that also allows him to shoot his shot. When else was a pretty software developer going to just fall into his lap like this?

He ignores that image. 

“If you don’t ace this presentation: who cares? People might be a little awkward about it, but they’re just people. It’s not a big deal.” Peter starts, and he sees you visibly brighten a little at that. “But if you do, you win something real special: a coffee date with Peter Parker.”

“Oh, I do?” You snort at his blatant flirting, but you can’t help but feel better with that potential date hanging over your shoulder. Peter Parker happens to be very sweet, at least so far, and you want to see just how far this could go. “Okay. I like the sound of that, but acing this presentation probably involves being there on time…”

You and Peter run through the lobby into the elevator– and you swallow your fears as you enter the boardroom, apologizing to the many developers and technicians about having to make them wait.

/

At the end of your very enlightening presentation– Peter knew there had to be no way he knew everything about this particular software since he had never tried it yet, and the fact that the original presenter seemed to be kind of vague on the details made it seem simpler than it was– you smile at him, and Peter grins back, knowing that he’s just won himself a date with you. 

#peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker drabble #peter parker x you #tasm peter parker fluff #tasm fluff #tasm peter parker drabble #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker #tasm #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter fic #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm 2 #the amazing spider man 2 #the amazing spiderman #the amazing spider man #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #ask #drabble #requests

[heyitsme1040]

Comfort the Pain Away [p.p]

summary : Your period was never a pleasant week to deal with. You were grateful to Peter, always happily being by your side more than usual wherever it came. He made sure to think of everything when he came over after a patrol. Your evenings together often consisted of being cuddled up together watching TV and just talking. 

pairings : TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

warnings : Mentions of cramps (if I missed anything let me know!)

word count : 700

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day eleven of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘comfort show/movie’. As a science nerd I think The Big Band Theory is an easy go-to show. It may not be my number one comfort show, but it is definitely in the top ten for me. 

You groaned as another intense cramp racked through you. Readjusting your heating pad, sinking deeper under your blankets with a sigh as the heat slowly eased your pain. Pulling the blanket higher around you, you wait for Peter to stop by. It was only the first day of your period, but you wanted the comfort your boyfriend brought. Knowing his patrol just started, you turn on the TV to distract you from the steady ache in your abdomen. Not wanting something you’d have to pay much attention to, you put on The Big Bang Theory. It was a funny, surprisingly scientifically accurate, easy to watch show. Honestly, you were surprised that Peter hadn’t seen it before the two of you got together. 

As the episodes went by, your heating pad had quickly stopped being hot and your cramps had picked up in intensity. Not knowing how else to help them be less intense, you tried to find a position that was comfortable to lay in. You’d curled yourself around a pillow, and tried to figure out how much longer until you could take more Pamprin. You heard the window to your bedroom open as Peter tripped on his way into the room. You laughed  at Peter’s clumsy nature before quickly groaning at the wave of pain it caused. 

Peter got up from where he was sprawled on the ground before pulling his mask off, “Hi bug, how’re you doing?” 

“This sucks,” you groan.

“I’m sorry,” Peter works on removing his suit. “What can I do to help?”

“Would you mind reheating this? Then we can cuddle.”

Peter tied his sleep pants and began pulling a shirt over his head, “I’d be happy to. Do you want a bottle of water too? When was the last time you took medicine?”

“Please, and I can take another dose in like thirty minutes.”

Peter bent over to kiss you before stepping out of the room. You smiled, curious how you found such a caring boyfriend. You heard the fridge open then close as you watched the TV. Peter’s footsteps echoed through the apartment as he walked back to your shared room. Peter returned with the bottle of water and freshly warmed heating pad. Handing you the heat pad, Peter walked around the bed to lay beside you. 

He pulled you into his side as he laid atop the covers. He rolled you over slightly to press his chest against your back, reaching a hand around you to hold your heat pad in place. 

“What time is it?” You asked, having lost track of time waiting for him to get home. 

“It’s a little past nine,” Peter checked his phone.

“You’re home early.”

“My phone notified me that your period started today.”

“What?”

You felt Peter shrug at your shocked reaction. “I downloaded the same app you use to track it. I don’t like when you’re in pain, so I like to know when you’re on your period. That way I can make sure to be home sooner in case you need me.”

“That’s sweet,” you teared up. “Sorry, I don’t know why that’s making me emotional.” 

“Technically, it’s due to a higher level of hormones. The heightened level of estrogen can make someone more persuaded by their emotional state.”

“Babe,” you laugh, “you’re doing the thing again.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t–”

“No! It’s cute, I love it. I just also love that you have no idea when you’re doing it.”

Peter buried his head against your shoulder. You felt his arm tighten around you. 

“What season are we on now?” Peter tried to change the subject. 

“It’s the one where Amy and Sheldon become official, and Howard becomes an astronaut,” you explain. 

Peter hums in acknowledgement. You take a deep breath, enjoying the simple evening together. You could never get enough of Peter’s attention, loving when he just held you. The two of you settled in for the night, watching TV until you fell asleep. The discomfort and pain of your period ebbed away. The last thing you were aware of before falling into a peaceful sleep was Peter kissing your temple and telling you he loved you. 

Author’s Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

#fanfiction #fanfiction writer #fanfic blog #comfortember 2023 #comfortember #tasm!peter parker #tasm fluff #tasm peter #tasm fanfiction #tasm spiderman #peter parker x you #tasm peter x reader #peter 3 #peter parker #comfort fic #peter parker fluff

[conniesanchor]

𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖑

ik i have a million requests to work on rn, but this is the only way im going to get out of my writing slump, so enjoy.

summary: peter shows up bloody and bruised, and you’ll always be there to help him.

you were used to peter coming through your window. he was your boyfriend, and you loved him. you just didn't love when he showed up covered in blood. not because you hated what he did, you loved how selfless he was.

gently tapping on your window (with the rhythm he always used in order to not scare you), he smiled at you when you noticed him. rushing over to let him in, you saw the bruises that were normally across his torso, were on his face this time. when you opened the window, he immediately fell into you. his head in your shoulder and his arms around your waist.

"pete, baby. let's go to the bathroom, get you all cleaned up." you grabbed his hand, leading him into the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. you pushed him to sit on the toilet and then opened the medicine cabinet to get some neosporin you got, especially for him, because you know that he hates the alcohol.

peter rarely talked when you were cleaning him up. this time was different, though, neither or you knew why, but you knew it was different. "im sorry, honey," he started. "i know how this makes you feel all the time and if you never want me to go back out there, i won't."

you paused, lifting his chin up so he was looking at you, "peter, i love you. okay? all of you. your selfishness, your love for this city, all of it. i love what you do," you mumbled. "nothing will ever change that. i hate it when you get hurt, but that doesn't mean i want you to stop doing what you love."

"i love you more than i love saving people."

smiling, you resumed your previous actions, "and im very glad, but im not going to make you choose, okay?" he nodded. "suit off, please."

even in his state of exhaustion, he still found it in himself to smile at the request, "you first."

"in your dreams, parker." he didn't move, though. leaving you to peel the spandex from his body. "stay there," you spoke gently, moving to go get him clothes. when you returned, his eyes were open. he had retreated from his previous spot on the toilet to now where he was standing in front of the mirror.

you could see the look of defeat in his eyes. the way they looked at the scars that were spread across his torso. your heart broke every time you saw him like this. "baby? wanna get some clothes on?"

the boy turned his head, almost as if you scared him. he nodded, taking the sweatpants you got him. seeing the way he looked at himself in the mirror, you wished you would've gotten him a shirt too. "i’ll go get you a tank top too, okay?"

he shook his head rather quickly, "it's okay." short, flat.

"okay. wanna come to bed? or do you wanna eat something first?"

"bed, please."

you smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him to your already made bed. lifting the covers so he could slide into them, you placed a chaste kiss on his lips. you ran your hand through his hair before retreating to your side of the bed and covering yourself up. peter immediately pulled your head into his chest.

even when he was hurting, he still wanted to hold you. when you tried to return the favor, he would shake his head and kiss your hairline.

"i love you, spidey."

"i love you more."

#i hate tagging so much #conniesanchor #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker tasm #tasm peter parker #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #tasm spiderman #tasm fluff #tasm imagine #tasm

[raven-fucks-around-and-writes]

Super love ig

prompt: "i understand that you want to be supportive and i appreciate that, but is covering the house in pride flag bunting really the way to go?" (X)

word count: 474

A/N: this is rly short and unedited and i literally never write fluff but i was supposed to finish this in june but i never did so. yea 😭

Peter Parker was just so adorable. 

You had brought him to a coffee shop in hopes that the calming environment would somehow make the news go over easier for both of you. His bright smile never faltered once the entire time, he was always happy to be out with you.  

"So, what's up, love?"

"So.. Peter, you know I love you, right?"

 he could tell you were nervous by the way you clasped your hands around your coffee cup, and how your eyes darted around the cafe

"Peter.. I.."

You swallowed heavily and your knees felt like jelly, (even though you were sitting down)

"I think I may be.. trans? I know this is sudden, but I don't really feel female anymore, i know I look like one and maybe act like one, but i just feel masculine"

Silence.

Then his usual smile spread over his face and he reassured you that he loved you, and you knew it would all be okay

———

A couple weeks went by, and everything was perfect. You even went by a new name and pronouns, and of course Peter Parker was always supportive. He even began introducing you as his boyfriend.

but then peter began acting weird.. He seemed like he was keeping you out of the house more often, and he started to make sure he learned what time you were going to be home

It made you begin to wonder if he was changing his mind.. if he was suddenly uncomfortable with you being trans and the thought of that made your heart crumble 

one day, you pulled up to your house from work and saw him standing in your driveway, looking nervous.

"Peter?" you rolled your eyes and stepped out of the car, wanting answers you knew you deserved

Peter softly smiled at you, before being cut off by your frown

"If you're suddenly unhappy, you can just tell me. Peter, I made it specifically clear that I'd understand if you didn't want to be with me after-"

"It's not that at all."

"Then what is it? You've been weird for weeks. I miss you"

"Just come inside and see - It'll make sense"

You rolled your eyes as you followed him into your house and thought "I hope this is worth it"

Inside, the entire house was decorated in various pride flags, mostly the trans one

"Oh my fucking god, Pete, what did you do?"

He smiled his usual dorky smile "I wanted to show you how much I love you! Besides, it wasn't super expensive. Consider it a token of my love, hon"

You look around again, your house a full on blue, pink, white, and rainbow mess.

"I understand that you want to be supportive and i appreciate that, but was covering the house in pride flag bunting really the way to go?" 

reblogs are better than likes, support writers

#tasm #tasm!peter x reader #tasm fanfic #tasm fluff #fluff #trans!reader x peter parker #unedited work lol #short fic #my wribting #male reader x peter parker #marvel #marvel fic #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic writing

[myadmiringmind]

Tree Lighting | TASM!Peter Parker

TASM!Peter Parker Masterlist

TASM Face Claims

Summary: You convince your boyfriend, who also happens to be Spider-Man, to give in to the public’s wishes and light the big Christmas Tree in Central Park.

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Characters: TASM!Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy, Harry Osborn, Miles Morales, and Felicia Hardy

Warnings: Heights, cold weather

Notes:

Established Relationship

|PICTURES ARE NOT MINE|

—————————————————————

“You want me to do what?” Peter laughed

“I’m serious!” You said

“I’m sure you are, honey.” Peter grinned at you

“So..will you?” You asked, hopeful

Peter ran a hand through his brown hair with a sigh, “I just told a reporter last night that I wasn’t going to do it.”

“So, say that you changed your mind!” You offered

Peter looked at you with an amused smile, “You really want me to do this tree lighting that bad, huh?”

You nodded bashfully, “I just..think it would add something nice to the season. For everyone!” You added

Peter grinned and pulled you in so that he could put a hard kiss on your cheek. Pulling back he rested his forehead on yours.

“You’re adorable, Y’know that.” Peter said

“You tell me all the time.” You said, quietly

“Mm, as I should.” He pulled you into a kiss

When he retracted from you, your lips followed his and he laughed.

“I gotta get home before Aunt May comes to check on me.” He nodded towards your bedroom window.

“Goodbye kiss?” You asked

Peter answered you with what you desired.

————————————

“Did you ask Gwen to pester me about the tree lighting too?” Peter asked, walking into your apartment kitchen with his phone out.

“No.” You answered, honestly, leaning against the counter.

“Well,” Peter began wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you close to his chest, “now Gwen is texting me about the tree lighting too.”

You laid your head on his chest and giggled.

“First, my girlfriend, and now my best friend. When will it stop?” Peter complained jokingly

“After we get Harry and Felicia in on it too.” You answered, giggling

Peter pinched your side teasingly.

“Yes, we’ll, I’ll definitely be outnumbered by then.” Peter chuckled

“You already are.” You laughed, “The entirety of New York wants you to do this.”

Peter hummed in agreement, “True.” He mumbled

You only grinned.

“What do you get out of this exactly?” Your boyfriend asked

“I get to see you struggle with the lights.” You giggled

Peter snorted, “I’m Spider-man! I fight villains on a daily basis, I'm not gonna struggle with Christmas lights.”

“Then prove it.”

“I guess I am cornered.” Peter considered.

Out of nowhere he picked you up causing you to let out a yelp of surprise.

“Well,” Peter laughed, “first things first, we have to find you the perfect spot to watch me expertly,” he emphasized, “light that tree.”

———————————

True to his word, Peter found you the best spot.

You were currently rewatching the video that the news got of Peter-Spider-man- telling a reporter that he changed his mind about lighting the tree.

“Are you warm enough?” Peter asked while wrapping a scarf around your neck.

“Yep.” You confirmed

A knock on the door caught your attention.

“Are we expecting company?” Peter asked, zipping up his jacket to hide the spidey suit.

“Actually, we were.” You said, walking over to the door.

Gwen’s grinning face met the two of you on the other side. Followed by Felicia, Harry and Miles.

A chorus of greetings made their way into their apartment.

“Are all of you planning on watching me light this tree?” Peter asked

“I think most of America is watching you light this tree, Pete.” Harry said, very unbothered.

“I already told them where we’re planning to watch.” You added

“I’ve got a limo waiting downstairs.” Harry winked

“A real limo too!” Miles said excitedly

“We’re going by limo?” Peter asked

“No, Harry’s going by limo. I’ll get there on my own and so should you, Peter.” Felicia said

“Peters taking me.” You commented

“I could swing over as well.” Miles shrugged

“Well, I can’t swing so I’m taking the limo.” Gwen said

“We’ll meet you there.” Harry said, as he and Gwen walked out the door.

———————————————

“You ready, Pete?” Miles asked as he got comfortable on the roof.

“Course.” The brunette responded.

“Good luck, Peter.” Felicia called

“Don’t fall on the stage.” Gwen teased

“And don’t make us look bad.” Harry added

Your boyfriend scoffed and shook his head.

He looked towards you with a teasing expectant look. You hopped up from your spot and wrapped your arms around his tight.

He squeezed you tighter and placed a bunch of kisses on your cheek and neck, causing you to giggle.

“Get a room you two!” Harry yelled

Peter sends him a glare with no real anger in it.

“Wish me luck.” Peter says so only you could hear you.

“Good luck.” You say with one more kiss.

“See ya guys!” Peter called the rest of your friends.

——————————————

Apparently, Harry brought his laptop with him so all of you could see Peter better.

You giggled as you watched Peter talk to the celebrity announcer.

You all laughed even more as Peter did fumble with the lights after a worker handed them to him and asked him to wrap them around the tree.

“3……”

“2……”

“1……”

“Happy Holidays!”

The crowd shouted as Peter pressed the button to light the tree.

——————————————

“How’d I do?” Peter asked excitedly as he got back to you.

“Amazing! It was great!” You laughed, throwing your arms around him.

“Did you like it?” Peter asked you

“Loved it!” You pressed a bunch of kisses to his cheeks.

“I’m glad.” He pressed a hard kiss to your mouth.

“Alright, Felicia brought a million plates of hot food to my place-“

“Yes! I forgot about that.” Felicia interrupted

“Some warm food sounds good to me.” Mile’s commented

“Food?�� Peter asked

“Food.” You agreed

#tasm #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter x you #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm peter imagines #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem #Peter parker fluff #tasm Peter fluff #tasm 2 #tasm imagine #tasm fluff #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter imagine

[spiderfunkz]

all i can think abt is tasm!peter in his room listening to music and stitching up his suit 😞

in my head he’s a smiths and mcr fan

this is soooo real!!! slow days with peter where he just plays music in the background as he stitches up his suit & you're on his bed reading his messy journal entries, it's quiet, the weather is perfect, the sun isn't too bright, and you're enjoying each others presence.

small blurb ahead, not proofread.

new york is always busy and loud. no matter what time it was or how the weather is, the city never sleeps.

though this particular afternoon was quiet. maybe it was because the music peter was playing, the old cd player still works to your surprise, or maybe it was because you were so focused on peter's old journal he let you read.

"oh this ones funny. april 19th, a year ago." you giggled. peter hummed, "what did i say?" — "dear diary, today i was in a rush to class. instead of grabbing my pencil, i stupidly grabbed the banana on the counter beside it. i think i was half-asleep because i didn't question the texture difference until i stepped foot in the class holding a half opened banana."

"that wasn't me," peter shook his head. "i would never write 'dear diary' at the start of my entry."

"but you would bring a half opened banana?"

peter nodded his head.

you lay back down at the bed. flipping through the pages of the journal. peter had his glasses on, which you think is adorable, he doesn't wear it that often though. he thinks it's nerdy but thankfully you like nerds. obviously.

"ooh i like this song." you commented.

"everyone likes the smiths," peter stated. "no one likes it as much as me though." he smiled at you, rather threatening-ly.

"okay.. do they help you focus?" you raided your brow. peter was still looking at you, "yeah.."

"really? the hole you're trying to stitch is getting bigger, peter."

#tasm #tasm x reader #tasm x you #tasm imagines #tasm imagine #tasm fluff #tasm blurb #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #peter parker headcanon #tasm peter parker #tasm peter #tasm!peter #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter blurb #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter fluff #the amazing spiderman #the amazing spider man #andrew garfield!peter parker #tasm andrew garfield #tasm fanfiction

[mrshipsmcgee]

*****a drunk blurb 4 u*****

You and your best friend, Peter had decided to attend Phi Alpha Sigma’s Spring Mixer out of boredom. The two of you were right on theme for the ‘Iconic Couples’ party, dressing up as Westley and Princess Buttercup from The Princess Bride. Peter was in a black thrasher shirt, black skinny jeans with his head covered and wrapped with a black mask, sporting a ridiculous, last minute, black eye liner mustache you had drawn above his upper lip, and you were wearing a floor length, red long-sleeved dress.

“We clean up nice,” Peter said as the two of you stood against the wall of the fraternity’s crowded living room, both holding red solo cups filled with Jungle Juice.

“Wait, what?!” You yell, trying to speak over the thumping music, leaning towards Peter with your hand cupped beside your mouth. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the music!”

“I said that we clean up nice!” He yells, leaning closer to you - the smell of alcohol wafting in your face.

“God, Pete! How much have you drank?” You yell, stepping closer to him, stepping on his toe in the process and stumbling a bit. Peter’s wide hand gently spreads across the small of your back as he sloppily steps towards you, trying to balance himself and you in his embrace.

He lets out a small laugh, awkwardly pulling his hand from your back just as his honey eyes meet yours, pausing for a moment as he smiles down at you.

“What?” You smirk, squinting your eyes at him before you take a sip from your solo cup.

He licks his lips, eye to eye with you as a soft blush grows on his cheeks - “You look beautiful, Princess.”

“Did you just say that I look beautiful?” You speak into his ear, your bottom lip accidentally brushing against his flesh - immediately sending tingles down your spine just as Peter turns his face towards you, noses brushing together as he yells, “What?!”

You both pause, wide-eyed staring at one another, feeling like the only two people left in the world though the party rages around you.

Peter blinks, swallowing hard before his shaking hand raises, gently hooking his finger below your jaw and tilting your ear towards his mouth.. his lips brush against your skin as he says, “I think that you’re beautiful.”

“Peter, you’re drunk,” you laugh, though your stomach was actively tying into knots.

“I’m not drunk, I’m just in love with you,” he says, clearing his throat as his finger tips delicately trace your hand, softly lacing his fingertips in between yours.

Your eyes meet again. He raises his brows, nodding towards you as he repeats, “I’m in love with you.”

#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!spiderman x reader #andrew garfield #tasm fanfiction #andrew garfield fanfiction #peter parker andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker x reader #the amazing spiderman #tasm blurb #peter parker tasm #tasm fluff #idiots to idiots #peter parker fanfiction #tasm x reader #tasm imagine #tasm x you #peter parker x you #tasm

[withahappyrefrain]

For your 3k celebration: pregnancy reveal with dilf peter 👀

Here have some girl dad DILF Peter fluff

You felt a small hand tug on your dress. You looked away from the dishes you were washing, to find your daughter looking up at you.

"What's up Sophie?" You asked. Her brown eyes were wide, a smile on her face.

Sophie pointed to the door, "Daddy!"

You grinned, "Is Daddy about to come home?"

Your toddler nodded her head. Peter claimed it was the inherited "Spidey sense" that alerted her when he was about to walk in the door.

"You want to greet Daddy? Show him your new shirt?" Sophie nodded her head.

A smile spread across your face as you watched Sophie run to the door. Her little feet were rocking back and forth as her body wiggled in excitement.

The door opened, your husband stepping in. No matter what kind of the day it had been, Peter's eyes always lit up when he saw Sophie. The smile that adorned his face upon laying eyes on her made your heart flutter, no matter how many times you saw it.

"Hey there mamaleh!" Peter quickly put his bag on the coat hook, crouching down so he was closer to eye level with Sophie (as close as one can be with a toddler).

"Daddy!" Sophie shrieked, running up to Peter. She was quickly engulfed by Peter's arms.

You leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. Despite being an everyday occurrence, the scene never failed to make you smile.

As Peter kissed the top of Sophie's head, his eyes met yours.

"Daddy! Look!" Sophie tugged on the collar of Peter's shirt. He looked down to find Sophie pointing to her shirt.

"Oh that's new," Peter's voice trailed off as he began to read Sophie's shirt. His eyes widened and you could see them scan the text on the shirt again. And again.

"Bug?" Your eyes perked up at your nickname, a sly smile slowly creeping across your face.

"Yes Peter?"

"Why does Sophie shirt say 'promoted to big sister'?" Peter took a step towards you, still holding Sophie in his hands.

You giggled, leaning over so you were at eye level with your daughter, "Wanna tell Daddy?"

Sophie pointed to your stomach, "Mamma has a baby!"

"What?" Peter's voice was breathless. You didn't think his eyes could get any wider. The wheels were turning in his brain, connecting the dots. You could see in his eyes realization sweeping through him.

"Really?" He asked, looking at your stomach and then back to you.

You nodded your head, "I'm eight weeks. Doctor confirmed it today."

A joyful yelp escaped Peter's lips as wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into a kiss.

You couldn't help but laugh into the kiss. Sophie giggled at the sight.

"I love you," Peter whispered against your lips.

"I love you too," You responded back, breaking away to press a kiss against your daughter's forehead, "And I love you!"

"You're gonna be a big sister Sophie girl!" Peter exclaimed, bouncing Sophie against his hip.

Sophie giggled, "I know Daddy!"

"You know?!" Peter asked, feigning shock to elicit another giggle from her, "Well Daddy didn't know!"

"Had to wait until the shirt arrived," You confessed. Keeping this a secret had been hard. You hadn't told Sophie until today when the shirt arrived. After all, toddlers didn't really understand the meaning of secrets.

Peter put Sophie down, engulfing you in a proper hug this time.

"You happy?" You asked before pressing a kiss against his cheek.

"Overjoyed. We're about to have another little spider!"

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, "Please stop calling our children that." Peter flashed that boyish grin, the one that made you fall head over heels in love with him all those years ago.

"Sophie doesn't mind, do ya Soph?" Sophie laughed as she clung to Peter's leg.

"Nope!"

#my writing #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker drabble #dilf!peter parker #dilf!peter #tasm peter x you #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm fluff #tasm fanfiction #andrew!peter fanfiction #andrew!peter fluff #andrew!peter imagine #andrew!peter x reader #andrew!peter x you

[dwindlinghaze]

taken by the view

(tasm x reader)

summary: you are new in queens and peter offers to show you around.

content: none, just fluff i guess? no pronouns on reader used. unedited work!!! a small blurb. i wrote this at night so don't blame me, i just have to writeeee

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the school bus came to a halt, passengers inside leaning forward due to the sudden brake. you were here in queens, new york, finding a breath of fresh air and a new start from your previous home. no, it wasn't bad, but you were looking forward to leave your old self behind in the past.

you look down at your shoes, making your steps down the bus when a skateboard hit your toes, the boy riding it leaped forward at the clash.

"sorry! didn't see you there!" he raised an arm in the air, groaning at the pain that left him after the fall.

"sorry, too," you squinted your eyes due to the morning sunlight. "do you need a hand? here," offered you kindly as he took it.

he looks so pretty.

"are you ok?" he asked, putting his hands on your shoulders as he examined you with knitted brows.

your cheeks flushed at the attention and how close he is to your face, "i'm alright, are you?"

"yeah um-" he looked towards the ground at his skateboard "sorry i ruined your breakfast" said he guiltily when he saw the smushed strawberry pie on the cement.

"that's alright, didn't enjoy it much anyway."

"are you new here? not sure i have seen your face before," he tilted his head, his floppy hair falling on his forehead.

"i am," you nodded. "i'm new to midtown school too. well that's obvious because i am new in new york, of course i'm new to t-" you stopped abruptly glancing up at him. "i don't talk that much."

he grinned, "that's alright. do you want me to show you around the school?"

"oh yes! thank you! i have to go to chem but i don't know where class f613 is... do you happen to know?" you asked.

"it's right down the hall on the second floor, i have chem too! let's go there together," said he, maybe a bit too excited.

"i can show you around town after school if you're free," he said shyly after you two have arrived at the door. "i'm peter by the way. peter parker. it's nice to meet you!"

"well hello peter," you waved at him before taking down the seat besides his. "i'd appreciate it. but you don't have to show me around. time after time i will recognize this place anyway."

"you're right- but i just want to get to know you. y'know friends? don't have a lot here," he huffed, looking down at his lap.

"i'll be your friend, peter," you put your hand on his shoulder. "we can grab coffee after if you'd like?"

"really?"

"if you want, yeah?"

"i'll be there."

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #tasm x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker blurb #peter parker fic #the amazing spiderman #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem #tasm fluff #tasm fic

[periprose]

Florence - Chapter Seven

It's Harry and MJ's wedding day, and you feel a million different emotions at once. Happiness, fear, an urge to never part from Peter's side. Finally, you come to a resolution about you and Peter's burgeoning relationship, ecstatically so.

Wedding stuff, ceremonies and reception, lots of emotions, cheesy romantic things (kissing, overly dramatic proposal stuff), smut (riding + lots of tension coming to a head (pls skip over this segment if you're uncomfortable)), I can't believe this took so long to write

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Peter feels elated. On top of the world, even.

Yeah, it was just a kiss– hardly the most invigorating, erotic thing he could’ve done– but, as cheesy as Peter feels when he thinks this, it was a kiss with you.

“Ugh.” He smacks himself in the face, cringing at how much he loves these intense feelings. He’s lying in his bed– the villa bedroom that was selected for him was perfect, down to the mattress that keeps Peter’s back pain at bay– but he can’t help but grin bashfully under his hands.

You had had the same sort of look yesterday. After Peter had finished kissing you, MJ had come and stolen you away for more bridesmaid duties– speeches, readings at the church, etc. – and despite your shy small smile, your hand clinging onto his as MJ dragged you away with a very questioning, sly look, he had to let you go. Unfortunately so.

Peter knows he loves you. He spent most of the night tossing and turning, thinking about how to properly ask you to be his girlfriend, his partner, his significant other. To be the one that he knew you were back when the two of you were just kids. 

He was just too stupid to see it.

Hell, even Logan told him that it was obvious. After years and years, he apparently always wondered when one of you would make the first move and get it over with. This was coming from the guy who couldn’t bear to ask out Ms. Grey and ended up ending it over nothing, too.

Peter clambers out of bed, rubbing his face, getting ready to brush his teeth, knowing that because he’s known you for so long– his method of asking you to make things official would come naturally.

/

You’re watching the sun rise over the gorgeous trees and groves of the villa, leaking through the windows of the house. Your room has a teeny balcony– you never noticed it before since a table obscured the door, and it’s a lovely space to spend time thinking before the wedding.  

Outside, a cool breeze makes your hair loose, blowing away strands lightly, and you feel at peace. You feel glad to be here.  

Siena is quite beautiful… but you’re very excited to actually go back to Florence today. It’s the best part of Italy to you, and you share too many memories with Peter to not want to be there with him today. 

Especially after he kissed you. You find yourself blushing, but that’s okay. It’s too special for you to know how to deal with– you’re finding that you’re easily flustered, going over countless memories of sunny beaches and ice cream and studying algebra and Italian architecture, cobblestone streets and sun dresses and tanned skin that always stayed with you long after you would come home to the cold autumn airs of New York.

But the best part was that Peter would always be with you throughout it all. Not just in Florence, but in high school, at home, being neighbours and bothering each other all time. You never had to have a break from him– he was like your own personal summer vacation.

You know you have had your moments, pulling away, feeling stupid and neglected– the sorrow you feel is fairly terrible– but the gratitude, the satisfaction you have from having Peter next to you now is unlike anything else you’ve ever felt. 

You wonder if Peter feels the same, that he’s feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions all at once– love, affection, but also fondness, familiarity, relief– you hope so. You want to talk to him again.

You didn’t sleep very well last night, and you know that’s bad for the wedding– but you’re not tired at all. No, no. 

For the first time in your life, you feel really awake.

“Howlett?” Peter’s voice calls, and you turn– you stumble for a moment.

“Hey, watch it!” Peter comes through your grabs your forearm, steadying you. You weren’t in any risk of falling over the railing of the balcony, but Peter’s got that strange sense, and his brown eyes peer into yours, checking to see if you’re okay.

Once he feels that you are, his gaze softens and he settles into a smile. His brows furrow as he grins at you.

He’s still wearing PJs, as are you– clearly you weren’t the only one struggling to stay away.

“I– I’m okay.” You hold his hand, trying not to beam. “You didn’t have to do that, but thanks.”

“Couldn’t exactly let my girlfriend fall off the balcony, could I?” Peter ruffles your hair, and you feel an alarming amount of excitement and earnestness at his words. “Not after I finally got one.”

“Hey.” You point your finger at Peter’s chest, and he raises his hands in an oh-ho, let’s see what you have to say sort of way, and you can’t help but smirk a little even if you’re mock glaring at him. “You’re admitting that it could’ve been any girl? And you would’ve been happy?”

“Oh, Howlett.” Peter reaches over and tries his best not to snicker– he fails– as he starts this overly romantic, purposefully terrible soliloquy to you. “It could only be you. I’d walk across a thousand burning coals for you. I’d reach up into the sky and take the moon and give it to you. I’d rake my balls through shredded glass just for the chance to kiss your sweet, chapped lips.”

You cackle at that, and Peter giggles while holding you close, holding your face.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” You laugh, and you shake your head at him. “What’s with the use of girlfriend, anyways? When did you ask me to be your girlfriend?”

“Was it not obvious yesterday?” Peter purses his lips. “Should I kiss you again, and make it more clear?”

Peter leans in but you stop him with your hand, and he kisses your hand anyways. 

Licks it, too. 

“Yuck.” You shake your hand away. “You can’t just claim me like a primitive man-ape, Peter. You gotta make it official, properly. I’ve waited too long for this moment for you to go and just make it so.”

“Oh, really?” Peter looks bemused. “You spent a great many algebra study sessions fantasizing about me, huh?”

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes, and Peter pushes down the urge to kiss your endearingly annoyed expression. 

“Okay. Deal.” Peter takes you by the hand, and leads you inside. “Do you think we have time for a morning coffee?”

/

It’s a very hectic time to go and sneak away like this.

MJ is currently doing an intense skincare regimen– she enjoys it a lot typically, but in this case it’s to give her a wedding glow– numerous products are slathered on as she lays on her bed. Face, arms, legs covered.

She gives you the okay to go, as long as you’re back in five minutes to help her get dressed, and Peter promises it will take two.

Peter makes his coffee– it’s easy, it’s just black with no sugar or cream– but for you he adds in a lot of sweetness and sugar and cream and even if you don’t usually take your coffee that sweet, you appreciate it anyways. 

“You used to drink it like this in high school.” Peter admits sheepishly, and you know he’s right– it’s cute how he remembers that.

/

MJ is so glad you’re back, shooing Peter away to the groom’s side of the house. As two makeup artists work on her hair, her face, her skin, working in even more products and massaging her muscles (MJ is so particular about reducing her frown wrinkles) she feels relaxed, luxurious, amazing… if not for the fact that she’s having wedding panic.

“Seriously, what if Harry gets cold feet again?” MJ blinks her deep green-blue eyes, tears hanging onto her pale, mascara-less eyelashes. “I knew we should’ve waited a few years. He’s been so worried about his father, about everything with Oscorp… God, I’m so fucking stupid!”

“MJ– No.” You shake your head. “You’re just freaking out. Deep breaths, Mary Jane.”

She inhales somewhat dramatically, but shuts her eyes, and you watch as MJ’s flushed, red skin calms into her fair, even skintone. 

“Harry wouldn’t have proposed if he didn’t want to do this now.” You remind her carefully. 

“And he wouldn’t have invited his dad if things were that terrible, right?” MJ nods, and she watches as you nod, too. “Okay. Hold my hand, Lettie. It’s scarier than I realized.”

“Getting married?” You sit next to her, squeezing her palm in a warm grasp, and try to avoid the makeup artist currently applying a peachy blush to MJ’s cheeks.

“Yeah. Not to be crazy, but… it’s literally marriage. It’s Mary Jane Osborn from here on out. Mrs. MJ, wife to Harry Osborn.” MJ inhales. “I know I want to do it, but I just… I have so many nerves!”

“Pretend it’s one of your modelling shoots?” The hair stylist arranging MJ’s red hair into a loose bun chimes in, as she works in lilies through the strands.

“No… that won’t do. Thanks though, Clara.” MJ sighs. “It’s not like that. It’s just… it’s been so long since I’ve had to really… shed the image.”

“Bare your soul?” You respond, and MJ nods. “I get it. You need to be candid about your feelings.”

“Yeah, it can’t be all image work. And I just worry that I’m going to come across as a influencer woman being shallow and vain rather than, well, the real me, little MJ Watson from Queens.” MJ’s voice turns small. “I almost wish I wasn’t famous at all.”

“Too late for that, cupcake.” The hairstylist comments again, and MJ snorts despite herself. “Listen. If Osborn knows you’re being real, then that’s good enough. Outsiders are always going to judge.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” You agree, and MJ swallows, before sighing with relief.

“Okay. Okay. I’m okay.” MJ fixes her glance on you. “Don’t leave me though.”

/

MJ looks perfect– even more so, in your personal taste, than she ever has during her glammed up, avant garde beauty shoots– she looks just like herself. Enhanced, a little, with her freckles still shining through dewy, glowy makeup, topped off with shimmery, sheer gold-glitter eyeshadow, and poppy red lipstick, blotted so not to be too much. She looks like your best friend, but also like… the best possible version of herself. You tell her as much.

She beams. “Thanks, Lettie. Do I look like a bride?”

“Of course!” You shake your head at her. “We just need to get you into your dress…”

MJ isn’t one to care about being nude anymore, after being desensitised to designers stripping and dressing her, and she undoes her robe with a simple pull of the strap, exposing her bare breasts and panties– you’re reminded just how much taller she is than you when she stands up straight, all legs and taut stomach, sharp collarbones and angular shoulders, muscles and bone contorting into a physique that just screams model. It’s like she was made to wear anything in an editorial context.   

“This is how I feel. Standing in that church, telling everyone I love Harry…” MJ crosses her arms, causing her tits to jut out more, and you snort, totally indifferent to her naked body. You’ve seen it a million times. “I’m going to be emotionally and spiritually naked.”

“And that’s harder than having your tits out?” You joke, but MJ points at you, seriously agreeing. “Alright, arms up.”

The dress is quite beautiful. An off-white, almost blue in tone mermaid dress, custom made by Dior, it fits MJ like a glove, snatching in at her bust, waist, and her hips, but then flaring out in an elegant a-line skirt, all silk and lace detailing. There’s quite a bit of rhinestone work from her sweetheart neckline, down to her hips, and the effect– as you pull it up on her, tightening the corset straps as she reaches around to make sure it’s all fitting– it’s like a halo glow.

Yes, as you carefully adorn MJ’s veil over her head, you feel in your heart– she’s an angel. No doubt about it.

“You look beautiful.” You grin at her, and to your surprise, MJ’s eyes water a little, and she hugs you tightly. 

“I’m so glad you came here.” MJ murmurs. “I never would’ve wanted to get married without you by my side.”

“Same. I mean, if I get married–”

“Stop that. You’re going to get married.” MJ laughs, cackles, really. “You and Peter– you guys are so meant to be. I’ve never been more glad that you two hit it off this week.”

“Even though we could be stealing the spotlight?” You joke.

“Especially if it means you’re stealing the spotlight.” MJ squeezes your arms. “You really deserve it, Lettie.”

There’s a sudden lump in your throat. Never have you ever assumed that you deserve any of the good things life throws your way– you always assume that it’s just due to luck. A cushy coding job? Luck. Being friends with Harry, who’s willing to give you a much higher salary, and MJ, who gives you the best fashion advice? Luck. Peter somehow being interested in you? Luck. What’s really special about you?

“I know that look.” MJ shakes her head. “You’re a catch, babe. Now go get dressed and blow that man’s socks off.”

“I… thought you were going to finish that sentence differently.” You admit, glad that MJ stopped your spiral into depressive thoughts. “Isn’t it ‘knock your socks off?’”

MJ shoos you out, laughing.

/

After very quickly putting on your makeup, It’s not hard to dress yourself. The dress, pretty as it is, all forest-green, flowing lace and silky details that you loved from the moment you saw it, just has one simple zipper.

Unfortunately, your hands scramble for purchase– it is just out of your reach, and it’s exceedingly annoying to try and zip it from the back when you can’t see it. 

The dress is flowing loosely around you as you sigh loudly, and decide to turn towards your bathroom, where you can estimate better with a mirror.

“Howlett?”

Peter comes up behind you, and you feel your skin warm. He’s too close– you’re not even fully dressed– and you hold your hands against the top of your dress, trying to stay modest.

“You’ve caught me in a fairly compromising position, I admit.” You joke quietly, and Peter chuckles.

“Maybe that was my intention.” He whispers half-jokingly, and you close your eyes, trying not to laugh or be turned on by the insinuation. “Kidding. Do you need privacy? I can go.”

“No, no, I need your help.” You mutter. “Could you just– zip up the back of the dress? I can’t reach it.”

“Of course.” Peter gently grasps the zipper, and you feel his hand press against your lower back, the heat emanating through the silk fabric, and with one fluid motion, he zips you up, the dress fitting perfectly, no longer free flowing but now clearly draped and styled in a way that accentuates the way you look.

Peter twists your shoulders so you’re facing him, and with an uncustomary amount of emotion, feels his breath hold. You look so gorgeous– so stunning, in a way he almost feels reverent when he looks at you– and he cannot help but voice it.

“Wait, you look– amazing–” You had no idea Peter was wearing his suit already. He looks dapper, sweet, calming. 

“Me? Oh man, Howlett. You look so pretty. I don’t even–” Peter harshly swallows. “It almost makes me regret never taking you out to prom.”

“It’s alright, Peter. This can be our do-over.” You kid with him, but he’s still solemn.

“Why was I so stupid?” Peter scowls at himself, and you get the feeling he’s actually going to be upset about this for a long time. “I couldn’t even see what I had, Howlett. You should’ve smacked me upside the head.”

“No, that’s too harsh.” You snicker at his antics. “It’s okay. I don’t think it’s a bad thing. If anything, it kind of… brought us closer together? Right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Shared trauma.” Peter laughs to himself, but he leans in a little closer. “Sorry, I gotta make up for lost time.”

Before you can admonish Peter for trying to ruin your lipstick, he’s already pulling your face forward in a strong, firm kiss, his lips pressing against yours without preamble or hesitation, and he holds you there– while you feel your insides turn warm, all jelly like, as Peter strokes your hair and face and jaw. He lets go for just a moment– but still presses cute, short kisses against your mouth, little pecks, really, and then he actually stops.

Peter’s lips are that soft red colour you picked out for yourself– he’s basically eaten your lipstick off.

“How many kisses do you need until you feel it’s enough for all the years you missed?” You tease him, gently wiping away at his lips. 

“Honestly, Howlett, it’s never gonna be enough. Seriously, you’re going to want to invest in a real good lip balm treatment because I am going to kiss your lips off.” Peter proves his point by kissing your fingers as you’re wiping his lips, and you snort.

“Real smooth.” You pull out your lipstick and re-apply. “You’ll get tired of it eventually.”

“No.” Peter’s serious. “I’m not gonna get tired of getting to kiss you. It’s a privilege and I can’t take it for granted, so…”

He presses a kiss to the top of your hairline, not wanting to mess up your makeup again, and together you leave to downstairs in the foyer where everyone is waiting for the limo, and you can witness the wedding event of the year.

/

Peter obviously sits next to you in the limo. The bridal and groom’s party are all grouped together in one giant limo, while MJ is being escorted in a very fancy, ivory white Volkswagen beetle with her parents, which will then be the newlywed’s car to drive off in, and Harry– being Harry– is driving in on a fast motorcycle, leading everyone to the Florence Cathedral.

There’s plenty of space in the limo. Gwen and Miles are taking pictures of each other using an instant camera, while Gayle and Betty gossip about some of the guests posting stories on instagram– supposedly someone is wearing white, and Gayle launches a plan to help her sister out and “accidentally” throw some red wine on the dress. 

The other groomsmen mostly keep among themselves. You blink and realize that you’ve never really conversed with them– they’re mostly Harry’s friends and they have their own stuff to talk about. 

Betty offers to take a picture of Gwen and Miles– somehow turning out stunning under her adept fingers, with just a smartphone camera– and you know that’s why MJ loves her. The one time Betty shot MJ for the highschool newspaper, it was all over from there– it basically launched her career after it went viral.

Then Betty turns the camera towards you and Peter. “Smile for the camera, Howlett. You too, Parker.”

She’s as deadpan as ever, but you and Peter lean into each other over the seats, smiling with not a hint of irony. You’re happy.

The film prints out, and Betty holds it away from the light, shaking it a little, and as the image appears, she hands it to you two.

“Wow.” Peter traces the edge of the photo. “This is… maybe better than my photography skills, somehow.”

“I know that’s a real compliment if it’s coming from your egotistical ass, Parker.” Betty sniffs, and shuffles away to gossip with Gayle again.

“Howlett, you’re so…” Peter inhales and sighs, as if he really can’t believe he’s around you, and you feel yourself blush. “I’m putting this in my jacket pocket. Just as a sweet memory.”

“Aw, you sap.” You giggle, and Peter laughs.

/

There are loads of people in the Florence Cathedral, all admiring the architecture, the religious art pieces, the tile work. Far more people than you would’ve accounted for– but then you remember that many of these guests are not staying at the Villa. You see more models, more tech billionaires, but also…neighbours, friends, family. Sweet memories connected with all of these people.

To your surprise, your father is already at the church, having left with Norman an hour ago. He’s conversing with a mature, pretty redhead that you recognize instantly.

“Oh my god– Ms. Grey?” You shove Logan out of the way, and he grumbles but smiles to keep up appearances. Jean fixes him a glance that totally tells you she knows about his grumpy history, and she likes it. “You’re here?”

“Of course I am.” She’s wear a teal blue dress, light gold heels, and somehow, despite a few wrinkles and spots– she still looks like your second grade teacher. “You’ve grown up into a lovely young woman, Howlett.”

“She has.” Logan pats your shoulder, looking the part of a proud father. Actually, if you really look into his eyes– you can see that they’re wet.

“Oh… thank you.” You swallow sincerely, hoping you won’t make your father cry. “You look very nice, too, Ms. Grey.”

“Yeah. I agree.” Peter chimes in from behind you, sounding very… wistful. You giggle.

“Oh wow. I never would’ve expected you to be so tall now, Peter!” Jean pinches his cheek. “Thanks.”

Peter is definitely fulfilling some childhood fantasy right now, with how deeply he’s blushing, you think. But you still ask Jean why she’s here.

“Oh, my dear, you don’t know?” She laughs. “I’m MJ’s aunt. Well, more like a family-friend aunt. Not really related. But still.”

“Wow, really?” You want to ask more questions, but the church bells have started ringing.

 “Well, I must go take my seat now. Thanks for being such darling students, my dears.” Jean Grey leaves you two– not before giving Logan a rather loaded, heated look. Maybe slightly inappropriate for church. 

“You’re probably not going to wash that cheek, are you?” Logan teases Peter, scratching his own jaw. “Don’t blame you.”

“Why don’t you go after her, Dad?” You cross your arms. “Why not just… try?”

“It’s not that simple, kid.” 

“Sure it is.” Peter holds Logan’s shoulder– and to your surprise, Logan doesn’t shove him off. “You told me not to give up on Howlett–”

“I told you not to break her fucking heart again, Parker.”

“Okay, same thing applies here. Why end things with Ms. Grey? Because you think you’re not good enough? You’re a washed up veteran?” Peter scoffs.

“Watch it…” Logan warns him.

“Right, right. Sorry. Have you ever thought that maybe Ms. Grey’s waiting for you to make a move? Maybe you’re giving up because you’re sabotaging yourself.” Peter shakes his head. “You don’t deserve to be alone after… after…”

“My namesake.” You flatly comment.

“Yeah, her.” Peter’s eyes soften, and Logan actually seems to be listening. “Give yourself a chance, Logan.”

“Wow. Normally I’d have to beat your ass for talking so disrespectfully to me, Parker.” Logan exhales. “But even I can admit you’re not… wrong. I’ll think about it.”

And Peter flashes that smile at you, that overly confident, I-just-fixed-it smile that you absolutely adore.

/

Peter lends you his arm as you walk down the aisle again, slow, smooth, everything moving as it should. It feels strangely perfect, in a way that you’ve never felt that your life was, and you can’t help but grin at people– they smile back at you, too. 

You catch little details in the church pews– floral details, lace and chiffon draping over seats, and a candlelit glow make everything seem particularly magical. The Cathedral’s artfully designed dome and tilework lends itself well to the feeling that something spiritual, something momentous is about to occur. 

The gold chain bracelet MJ gifted you a few days ago glints against your wrist– as Peter’s does, too. You wonder if MJ and Harry planned that together. Some sort of pre-engagement ring type of deal.

Peter smiles at you once you part at the altar. Really, he kind of– chokes out a smile, a huge grin that he can’t help but convey towards you. And you know that you love him.

The rest of the wedding party walks in, MJ being the very last. You watch as a silence falls over the people of the church, a hush of emotion and awe, to finally see the bride on her big day. MJ looks sweet, reverent and graceful, and she grasps her parents’ arms tightly, while Harry catches her eyes, and you can see his adam’s apple bob up and down. Maybe Harry’s getting soft.

The priest begins the wedding service for real. MJ looks pleased, nervous, obviously running on nerves, while Harry is bashful, shy, like a little boy again. 

Before you know it… it’s over. You and Peter are called over to be witnesses to the wedding document, and you sign it, feeling an air of relief, some sort of satisfying completion to this wild journey.

Harry dips MJ– tall as she is– at the front of the church, in a sweeping kiss that has people clapping and cheering.

/

The Villa is full of thumping music when you arrive back. People are already dancing, swaying, eating, drinking, either in the outdoor garden space, or inside the house itself.

But you only want to be with Peter. You’re not even spending time with the other bridesmaids– but Gwen, Betty and Gayle seem to understand deeply about your affection for Peter, and they let you go with smiles that seem to know something. 

Peter and Harry are already taking tequila shots at the bar, wasting no time, and Harry’s mouth stretches into a large smile when he sees you. “Hey, speak of the devil!”

He motions for you to come over.

“You guys were talking about me?” You snort, and Peter turns a little pinker.

“Duh, as if this guy can talk about anything else.” Harry playfully punches Peter. “Howlett, you might have to marry him, or he’s never gonna shut up.”

“Uh… yeah, that’s just my drunk brain talking. I don’t mean any pressure.” Peter tries to excuse himself by drinking another random shot. 

“He doesn’t know I want to marry him too.” You whisper to Harry. “Since ninth grade, I think.”

“He’s a dude, Howlett. Coming from another dude– we are blind sometimes.” Harry passes you a shot. “Have you made things official yet? Settled the deal?”

“That’s the business talk coming out.” You joke, and Harry laughs.

“True. But trust me, Peter can be dumb. Until you really… make it official, he’s not gonna believe that you’re into him of all people. He’s really insecure.” Harry sounds distant, sad, as Peter continues talking to the bartender, totally oblivious.

“Oh. I told him that he has to ask me to be his girlfriend before I really agree to it.” You respond, and Harry shakes his head with a wry smile.

“Who’s the one with the business talk now?” He laughs, and you shrug as if you really are that shrewd.

“I think I’ve suffered long enough.”

“That, you have.” Harry cheers to that and hands you a shot, which you drink gratefully.

/

After a bit of erratic, half-drunk dancing– whatever DJ was hired for this is amazing at picking songs that force you to, at the very least, bop your head– Peter pulls you aside.

“What’s up?” You ask him, still a little sweaty and frazzled from the music.

“I want to get some water. Like the icy water from the fridge? Just to sober up a little.” Peter shrugs, and you glance upwards at him.

“You really need me to be there for that?” You raise your eyebrows, and Peter scrambles for a response.

“Well… I… uh, I just want you there. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Peter admits, and you snicker.

“I will. I needed a break from dancing, too.”

Together you stroll through the garden, up to the backyard doors of the house, laughing about how fun everything is, and you really meander– taking a lot of time to stare at Peter, and him at you– and you don’t notice something is off until Peter pulls you to the side, just behind the bar counter of the kitchen.

“Wh–” You cut yourself off, watching a deep-red ponytail bob up and down at rapid speed, with gusto. Tan shoulders and just a hint of bare breasts coming up past the counter, where you can see her. 

It’s definitely Ms. Grey. Uh… Jean. You can just make out the edge of her side profile from beyond the counter, as she convulses on the floor, riding someone unseen, and she moans, “Logan, oh my god, Logan–!”

Peter pulls you away by the hand, down the hallway and into a random closet, before you can let yourself fully grasp the idea of potentially seeing your father deep in the throes of passion. You are so glad you didn’t see or hear anymore than that.

“Damn. When I told Logan to go for it… I didn’t think he’d do that.” Peter comments after shutting the door, and you, despite your very childish horror at the whole thing, start giggling. Peter smiles, and you can tell he’s trying to cheer you up.

“I mean… at least he’ll be getting over my namesake.” You raise your eyebrows. “You think Ms. Grey wants to be my mom?”

“Howlett, I’m pretty sure Logan is about to make her one. Without your involvement.” Peter replies drily, and from how clearly you can hear the rasp in his throat, you can tell this closet must not be very big.

You laugh, a little awkwardly now, because you’re still not used to being so close to Peter, not in this context anyways. A dark, shady closet, where it’s just the two of you, feeling body warmth emanate from each other. Peter’s breaths are hitting somewhere around your hairline, and if you came any closer– you’re sure you would be enveloped by his chest.

“Peter, did you bring me here just to get some alone time?” You tease.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that water.” Peter leans in a little, and you get the sense that he’s actually holding himself back. “But to be honest, Howlett? You’re a pretty good alternative.”

“Right. Because I’m curing your thirst.” You roll your eyes, and Peter laughs.

“See, this is what I love about you. You always know what I’m about to say.” Peter says, and he watches you, in the near darkness of the closet, tense a little. 

Peter searches around for a light switch, and finds it. A tiny, yellow bulb lights up in the centre of the room, and you realize the closet is bigger than you thought.

A chaise lounge, grey in color, is off to the side.  

“I just wanted to see you.” Peter answers the question he knows you were about to ask. 

“Oh.” You smile up at him, but there’s still uncertainty in your posture.

“Howlett, what’s wrong? Am I being too much?” He looks into your eyes, and you just don’t know how to answer.

“No. I just… I’m bad at this.” You grow shy under Peter’s watchful eye.

“So am I.” He takes your hand. “But you know what? It’s time to be adults about this. I’m gonna reiterate it, I love you.”

Something about his emphasis on the word love has you spluttering and laughing, and Peter repeats it anyways, in different stresses and tones, “I love you. I LOVE YOU. I love you. I love you, Howlett.”

“I know, I know. I love you too.” It spills out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, but Peter grins eagerly and nods. “You’ve already told me that before.”

“You mean when I was drunk a couple days ago, right? Well I meant it then, and I mean it now.” Peter nods firmly. 

“Do you remember that you’ve kissed me before, too?” You ask just out of curiosity, and Peter turns a little pink before admitting that he does.

“Who could forget the beach sunscreen kiss? I still think of that as my first one.” Peter laughs quietly. “But yesterday was more… um…”

“Real.” You whisper, and Peter nods again, this time with a little more agitation in his eyes, and you watch him mull over something, obviously thinking about kissing you after speaking about it, and you know you want to after the heated memories of yesterday, and his eyes glance towards your mouth, before he decides on it.

Peter sweeps you up in a kiss that’s far more lustful and tense, grasping around your waist and hips as he pulls you in, and you feel his lips soften against yours, melting as you feel a rhythm occur naturally. You kiss him back and you know that knowing Peter for so long has enabled you– it’s like the two of you were made to be together.

He kisses down your neck, and pulls down the silky front of your dress– as much as it will allow, at least– and kisses soft, open mouthed kisses against your cleavage, which causes you to writhe against him a little. Eventually Peter finds the zipper of your dress and pulls it down halfway, allowing him to really dip his mouth against your bare breasts, and you groan as Peter lightly sucks on your nipple.

“...Jesus Christ, Howlett…” Peter murmurs in between kissing your chest and upwards on your neck and jaw. “I don’t even… know how long I wanted to do this.”

There’s not many words to be shared from you as you feel yourself turn lightheaded, and you kiss Peter again, taking control of his mouth, relishing the feeling of his tongue swiping against yours, leading him back towards the very convenient chaise lounge chair. There, Peter discards his blazer and unbuttons his shirt, and lies back against the chair, his dick clearly straining against his pants.

You kiss him again, sitting right on his bulge, lifting your skirt a little higher so Peter can feel the shift of your bare skin against him, through the fabric pants, and his eyes roll back into his head as you kiss him, grind a little. Maybe it’s too much– Peter grabs your ass and pulls up the skirt even higher, pushing you down on his clothed bulge with too much intensity– and you feel pleasant tingles spread across your skin as his bulge presses into you, almost inside you, against the thin underwear that you’re wearing. You’re very slick– you shudder as Peter pulls down the zipper of your dress fully, and you feel his hands roam across your bare back, and then into the inside of your dress, feeling your waist and breasts. 

“I didn’t bring a–” Peter starts, as you let your hands trace up his chest, and he clearly has trouble saying no.

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m on the pill.” You say, matter-of-factly, mostly interested in staying on top of Peter until he begs for more. “Just for hormonal reasons.”

“Oh… okay…” Peter inhales as you press more kisses against his neck. “Howlett… it’s a lot for me to handle.”

“Huh?”

Before Peter can really answer, he whispers an apology before tightly gripping your waist, and he sits upright, pulling you flush against his chest. Then, as he zips off his pants– he somehow takes them off completely, leaving him in just his boxers. There’s a wet spot– and Peter is pulling his boxers off, too. 

His dick is hard, almost painfully so based on his expression, and you understand you riled him up a little too much. With one hand– Peter reaches under your skirt, and you help him pull off your underwear with shaky, sweaty hands. 

You’re aroused enough that it doesn’t hurt. When Peter slowly enters you, as you lower yourself down on him, you feel electric on the inside, some sort of satisfyingly sick combination of love and lust overtaking you, and you feel full from the pressure, feeling Peter throb inside you, and you’ve never felt so close to him as you do now, and he starts a rapid pace of thrusting into you, holding you tightly against him as he does, his thighs smacking against your ass.

You do feel pleasure, a sharp ache starting to build in your lower regions, as Peter continues to press overly hot kisses against your jaw, but you also feel loved. It doesn’t feel like a hookup, and you know it isn’t. You know as Peter wraps his arms around your waist, he’s not just using you, he really loves you.

He watches as you fall over his shoulder, having reached the peak of your climax, and Peter pulls out, letting himself finish on his own leg.

“You didn’t… have to…” You sleepily tell him.

“I know. I was just taking a precaution.” Peter whispers, and he holds you close as you fall asleep on top of him. “Love you, Howlett.”

He’s really glad this closet has a locked door.

/

The morning after the wedding, you wake up to find yourself mysteriously dressed in a oversized tee shirt, and your panties. You’re lying in your own bed, but you don’t know how you got here.

Peter is sleeping next to you. His brown hair is dishevelled, and he’s wearing a random tee shirt too. Actually, you think you recognize that from Harry’s wardrobe.

“Peter. Hey, Peter.” You shake his shoulder. “Peter Parker!”

“Huh? What’s that?” He sleepily rubs his eyes. “Oh, morning, Howlett.”

“How did we get here? After we… I mean, you know.” You blush. “What did you do?”

“Oh.” Peter lets himself get up for real, sitting up on the bed. “I waited it out until no one was near the stairs, and then I took you upstairs to your room. I changed your dress for you. There were randoms in my room, so I hope you don’t mind that I stayed in here with you.”

“Of course I don’t mind.” You wrinkle your brows, frowning. “I just wonder why you did all that even though I’m not your girlfriend.”

Peter pauses. Actually, he genuinely stills, no movement at all.

“Oh, Howlett. You scared me.” He shakes his head, before grabbing your hands. “I just kinda assumed after yesterday, you would believe that’s enough evidence.”

“Humor me.” You slightly smile as Peter agrees with a little shake of his head.

“I’ll be serious. I am serious.” Peter grows solemn. “Howlett. I’ve known you my entire life, practically. I can’t picture it being without you. The year or so that it was, was maybe the worst year of my life.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I just appreciate you all the more now.” Peter traces your knuckles. “I’ve grown– we’ve grown up a lot. I needed that, so I could be here to ask you now. Would you be my girlfriend? My partner, if that sounds more equal and appropriate to you?”

“Yes.” You pull Peter into a hug, surely one of many from now on, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I’m so glad we went on this trip.”

Peter smiles fondly. He’s never been more glad, either.

“I never want to let you down again, Peter.” You admit shyly. “I hope it’s not cheesy to say I want to be around you all the time.”

“It isn’t.” Peter presses a very chaste, soft kiss against your lips, and he feels, finally, that his life is really coming together. 

So do you.

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