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ficthots · 2 years

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Enamored

A/N: Here's a Peter fic. I can't believe I am releasing two full fics in the same night. Who am I? As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT. DNI if you are under 18. 18+ only.

Word Count: 8.1k+

Doing favors for friends seems to be a fairly standard social normality. Of course there are differentiating factors that determine exactly what kind of favor they may deserve based on what they are asking of their friends. There are people who are far more giving than others and will bend with ease at the drop of a hat to help those that ask. The other version is the immediate response of no and eventually they stop being asked all together.

You were a happy medium between the two. Willing to help a not so favorable coworker if you see something they’re holding is about to fall to the floor, but then going above and beyond for your best friends when asked to bring a purse for them to borrow, showering them in every option you had.

That was how you found yourself dressed up as Dasher the reindeer for your company’s Christmas party. One of your closest allies at work had been asked to act as Santa Clause this year and given he is up for quite a promotion, quickly accepted. The week before the event he appeared at your apartment door, frazzled and nervous about having to dress up as the holiday icon in front of all of your coworkers.

Despite every attempt to get him to calm down, nothing was working. Instead, you rallied up a small group of your favorite colleagues and convinced everyone to dress up as his reindeer. To make him feel more comfortable, of course.

You and Trisha stood in front of the bathroom mirror at the event, hurrying to complete the makeup look that was going to accompany the full bodysuit costume you were wearing. The bathroom door burst open and in walked Lucas, dressed exactly as Kris Kringle, forcing you to suppress any laughter at the sight before you.

“I look like a fucking moron,” he whined, pulling the beard down and showcasing the irritated skin that sat beneath the scratchy material. You shook your head at his words, head tilting to fully admire the getup. “You look fantastic. That promotion is yours,” you snickered at Trish’s words, but he flicked your forehead, sticking his tongue out at you.

As you went to retaliate, the restroom door flung open once again, revealing another reindeer, beckoning everyone out to the main ballroom. When the doors opened and you all walked in, you were met with applause as you led Santa out to his chair where he would be spending the remainder of his evening.

After a warm welcome, you knew it was time to get a buzz on in order to get through the party. It was always a sight to see who would end up in the utility closet together at the company Christmas party, leading to another year of awkward elevator rides and uncomfortable meetings where they couldn’t look each other in the eye.

Fixing your falling reindeer antler headband for what felt like the millionth time that night, Trish stood leaning against a cocktail table with you. You two giggled and pointed out couples, placing bets to see who would sneak off first.

Small appetizers made their way around the room and you grabbed as many as you could as they came. The crowd had grown unbelievably dense within the last hour of the party, music playing to which the next step of a lustful evening was taken by said couples, writhing against one another as their colleagues looked on in pure amusement.

“I’m running to the bathroom!” You shouted as you downed your champagne glass, pushing off the table to head in the direction of the restroom. Trying to maneuver through people to get to your destination was proving difficult, being tossed around like a damn rag doll in the process.

You didn’t think twice as you felt fingers land on your shoulder, tapping you roughly. When it happened again, you turned as his voice yelled out over the group surrounding you. “Excuse me! Are these your antlers? They fell,” your mouth went dry at the handsome stranger standing directly in front of you.

When his eyes slowly met yours, his facial expression froze to one of shock as he took you in. Immediately feeling embarrassment course through you at how silly you must look to this gorgeous man, you began blabbering as you took the headband from his grasp.

“Oh, thank you! These stupid things have been falling all night. They’re kid sizes so they’re a bit small meaning they won’t stay in place and have given me quite the headache. We did this as a pick me up for our friend who’s playing Santa tonight and it seems to be a hit, I just hope I’m not stuck doing this every single year now.” When you caught your breath, eyes looking back to him to see his reaction hadn’t changed in the slightest, you felt even more humiliated and decided to take it as your out.

“Anyways, thank you, again. Have a good night. Merry Christmas,” you turned your back, rushing to get away from the most awkward experience of the night, practically running out of the ball room, leaving the beautiful stranger behind.

You stopped in your tracks though, feeling bad for having said Merry Christmas, not knowing if that was even his denomination. “Sorry, Happy Holidays. Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, whatever you celebrate. Not to say you can’t or don’t celebrate Christmas, but yeah, why am I still talking?” You mumbled out the last bit, turning on your heel and continuing out of the room with your face positively burning right off.

He was kicking himself. Actually, trying to beat the ever loving shit out of himself. When he bent down to pick up the antlers he didn’t know what happened, but when she turned and looked at him, at him, it was like the world had stopped.

Almost as if he had been blessed to stop time to just capture her face just for himself and being the only person lucky enough to hear her speak. To him.

And he fucking blew it.

Unable to string two syllables together to give her a coherent response. Hell, even one would have sufficed better than just staring at her like a fish out of water. He had never hated himself more than he did at that moment.

She looked at him like he was the weirdest thing she had ever seen before and he more than likely was. The poor girl turned and ran from him because she was so weirded out. What the hell was wrong with him?

His eyes followed her the rest of the night, to no fault of his own. He planned to go back over to her before the party was going to end, make an attempt to try to fix what he had blundered so badly before, but within a singular blink of his eyes the evening had come to a close.

He had no idea how time had passed so quickly. Watching her from afar as her head tipped back, mouth opening just wide enough for a loud laugh to bubble out and greet the air around her. Lips landing on the edge of her champagne glass as she sipped the contents, eyes sparkling in pure enjoyment at the festivities happening. He found himself smiling with her despite being across the room, having no idea what was causing that to happen, but it didn’t matter because he was getting to witness it.

Peter had never seen anyone so magnificent. He had to know her.

He didn’t even work for this company. No, he had tagged along with one of his friends who didn’t want to attend alone, not expecting this to be a particularly memorable evening apart from free food and drinks. Not expecting the entire course of his life to shift within a four hour span of time.

As she walked out of the ballroom with her small posse, Santa tagging along behind her, a sense of panic washed over him. He didn’t get to ask her name. He didn’t get to speak to her again. She was getting away.

Looking around for his friend, he spotted him saying goodnight to some of his coworkers, catching Peter’s eyes as he waved him over to where he stood rooted to his spot.

They left the party together, heading back towards their apartments for the night, but Peter caught sight of her, beginning to gently nudge his friend as his eyes refused to leave her figure.

She was standing on the curb, hand grabbing onto Santa’s arm as she cackled out into the night, a cloud of white appearing in front of her mouth at the expelling of air. He found himself jealous of the man in the costume, being able to feel the heat of her skin against his own.

“Do you know who that is?” His friend's neck craned to see who he was looking at, not near the height of his counterpart. His brow furrowed as he looked at her for a split second before looking away.

“The reindeer? No clue. You want to go get dinner? I thought they were going to have-“ his words became muffled in his ear, attention span going out as he spoke.

How was he able to look away from her? No matter what Peter tried, it didn’t matter, because he couldn’t look away from her. His friend was able to avert his eyes so easily. How? She was like a magnet, drawing him towards her and no matter what he did, he could not get his attention off of her. She was a force.

Peter reluctantly left in the opposite direction of her that night. When he laid in his bed, unable to think of anything other than her, he wanted nothing more than to see her again. As his eyes closed, her face would be behind his lids, greeting him with a large smile meant only for him.

It would be weeks until he saw her again. That same friend had told Peter that he wanted to meet him for lunch that afternoon, but to go into his office while he waited for a meeting to finish up.

Thinking nothing more, his thoughts of her dwindling daily until he only thought about her once or twice a day. He rode the elevator to his friend's floor, but felt his eyes bug out as the lift came to a stop on a floor fifteen levels below where he needed to go.

She was back. Stepping into the elevator with him, arms overloaded with papers, eyes glued to a phone screen. “Sixty-eight please,” she mumbled out to him. He couldn’t move. He was rooted to his spot, eyes stuck to the side of her face. A new angle he hadn’t seen before that was somehow even better than the others.

Her eyes looked at him when she realized he wasn’t going to hit her floor. Her face immediately grew to one of shock when it dawned on her who was in the lift with her. She moved to push the button for her floor and shifted the stack of papers awkwardly in her arms as she faced forward, trying not to make this any weirder.

“I remember you from the Christmas party,” she spoke out after a beat, unable to take the silence. “I was the reindeer. You handed me my antlers. I swear I’m not that weird in real life, dressing like that I mean or maybe I am and just don’t realize it.”

He couldn’t speak, tongue unable to move as she fidgeted to the side of him. It was like he had fallen under a trance as he looked at her. He didn’t know what to do.

Ding

As the doors slid open to her floor she shot him a small smile and a wave as she stepped out. “Okay, have a good one.” The doors closed behind her and he wanted to scream.

He fucked it up. Again.

His eyes closed, hands landing on his face, and rubbing harshly at the irritation coursing through him. The smell of her perfume lasted long after she had gotten off, the sweet coffee and vanilla hints lingering to remind him about what he had missed.

When he got to his friend's office, he sat down at his desk, trying to create some semblance of a plan to actually speak to her, but whenever he tried, it was like he was under a spell.

He didn’t even know her name. That could change though.

His friend entered the room and greeted him with a tired sigh, a crack of his neck, and a furrowed brow as he took in his friend's disheveled appearance. “What’s going on with you?”

Peter shook him off, asking him what he wanted for lunch, but quickly created a plan in his head. If he wanted to do this he needed to be careful, not wanting to be obvious about his intentions.

The two sat at lunch and as Peter took a bite of his burger, he changed the topic of conversation to match what he wanted to talk about. “Hey, I meant to ask you, who played Santa at your Christmas party?”

His friend bit into a fry, leaning back in his chair as he thought about his response. “I believe his name is Lucas Dawson. Just got a big promotion to assistant manager for his department. Why?” Peter shrugged, rubbing his jaw to make it seem like what he was saying was believable.

“No, I just thought I knew him from somewhere is all.” His friend nodded, taking another bite and steering the conversation back to whatever sports game he had watched earlier that week.

Success.

It was two weeks later when Peter found himself standing outside of the building waiting for Lucas to appear. He checked his watch, thumbs drumming on his thighs with nerves as his eyes scouted the crowds around him.

The bleach blond hair quickly moved from the glass doors and Peter noticed his gaze was downwards at his phone. Perfect.

Peter walked in his direction, bumping into him and sending his notebook tumbling down in front of him. Lucas uttered a quick apology and Peter’s smile grew as he began his act.

“Oh my god. Lucas!” His eyes went wide and then narrow, very obviously trying to place where he knew him from. He didn’t know him. “It’s me, Peter! How are you doing, man?” Lucas offered a smile in return, playing along.

“Peter! I’m good! How are you?” Peter’s grin grew as he continued on. “I’m doing real good, man. Hey! Are you still in touch with, oh gosh, what’s her name?” Peter offered a description of you, snapping his fingers in faux confusion as he tried to gain insight to you.

When Lucas said your name, it was like Peter had won the fucking lottery. “Yes! We work together. Right there actually!” Lucas pointed at the building and Peter’s hands landed on his hips, shaking his head.

“Wow, that’s amazing. Crazy world we live in, huh? Well, I don’t want to keep you, it was so good seeing you. Have a good one, man!” Lucas said the same back and continued on in the opposite direction of Peter.

That name. It replayed over and over in his head. It was your name. Of course it was, he thought to himself. It suited you so well. It was a beautiful name. The first time it fell from his lips, his eyes shut with a smile, pure happiness coursing through him.

He didn’t see you for awhile after that, opting to keep his distance. His alter ego though was a different being. Peter found himself dressed in his garb, watching you leave the building one night, far too late to be walking by yourself.

This was his chance.

Peter landed behind you without a sound, mustering up the courage to speak to you. “Excuse me, miss?” You jumped as you turned, eyes about falling out of your head at the sight before you.

That was fucking Spider-Man.

You offered a meek wave as you looked around to see if anyone else was seeing this. The street was almost deserted at this late hour, those that were on it too entranced in their own worlds to realize who was standing here.

“It’s a bit late for a young lady to be walking home. Can I offer an escort?” Your jaw opened and closed, trying to formulate a response to the figure. You cleared your throat and nodded quickly.

“Yeah-yes, please, that would be great.” He nodded, moving to fall in step next to you. You had no idea what to say to him as you began walking. What the hell were you supposed to say to a superhero?

“So what is a pretty girl like you doing walking alone late at night?” Spider-Man just called you pretty. Spider-Man just called you pretty.

You gave a slightly annoyed laugh to that question before following with an irritated sigh, shaking your head like you were trying to remove bad thoughts from your head. “Just working late.”

He laughed, tsking you as he nudged you with an encouraging shove. “I’m working on this group project thing right now, but I seem to be the only one actually working on it. That means that I’m stuck at work late doing it.” He nodded thoughtfully before jumping in front of you, starting to walk backwards.

Given you couldn’t see his face and its expressions, he mainly talked with his hands, using them as his way of expression instead. “Now, see I work late. That’s kind of my whole thing. But I choose to work late. Kind of. I mean crime never sleeps and it seems to really ramp up at night so that’s when I’m needed most. So, I guess I don’t really get to pick my hours.”

You were trying to stifle laughter at his random tangent he had gotten off on, but your hands went out to grab him, trying to move him so he wouldn’t hit the lamppost he was heading straight for, but he dodged it before you could get to him.

“How did you do that?” You asked shocked, pointing at the post as you walked by it in awe. Spider-Man shrugged and leaned his head towards you, offering a view of the back of his head. “Eyes in the back of my head.” You couldn't see it, but for some reason you felt him wink at you.

You felt absolutely bonkers saying that because of course he hadn’t, but there was a feeling nestled deep in your stomach that he had. Whether you could prove it or not. He was friendlier than you had expected.

He kept a constant conversation going with you, tossing jokes back and forth like old friends, never letting the chatter dull. He had you feeling like your stomach was going to burst at the seams from laughing so hard at his absurd conversation topics.

When your building came into view you stopped and sighed, wiping at your eyes, gathering the tears that had been falling from the story he had shared with you about a small child needing to be swung home for fear of having an accident and ended up going. All over him.

“Thank you for walking me home Spider-Man.” He waved his hand in front of you, over exaggerating his shrug as he did. “Ah, don’t mention it. Just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man offering his assistance to those in need.” You giggled at that and nodded, eyes falling to your shoes.

“Well, I’m more than likely going to be working late for the next week or so and would love to take the walk with you. You know, to keep me safe and all.” He nodded, bringing his hand up to stroke his chin in thought.

“I think I can make that happen. Same spot and time tomorrow?” You nodded, a smile growing as you did. You waved goodnight, crossing the street and entering your building.

Peter wanted to jump for joy. He had talked to you. Without sounding like a buffoon. And you talked with him. Laughed with him. Enjoyed spending time with him. So much so you wanted to do it again tomorrow. And for the rest of the week.

He couldn’t help himself, he did a small jump, tapping his heels together as he did. He swung off into the night, excitement pouring from him about getting to see you again tomorrow.

And he did. For the next few weeks he did.

Peter-Spider-Man, would meet you outside your office building and would take the long walk back to your apartment building with you. As each night progressed, you two would intentionally walk slower to spend more time together.

He memorized every aspect of you he could. He was mesmerized by you. By your entire being. It was like a gravitational pull that he couldn't fight no matter what he did. But he didn’t want to. No, quite the opposite. He wanted to fall into it. To be completely absorbed into your wavelength.

Your hands nervously played with the pair of mittens in your hands as you turned to face the masked man, gnawing on your lip as you waited for him to finish talking. He didn’t finish in time so you blurted it out instead.

“I haven’t had to work late this past week.” He stopped his motions, head tilting to show confusion, something he did often when he knew you couldn’t read his facial expressions. “I-I just wanted you to walk me home.”

He could see how nervous you were to tell him that. That it took all the courage you had, that you couldn’t hold onto the information anymore, yelling it out over his words to be heard. It was adorable.

“You could’ve asked me.” His hand went behind his back, although you couldn’t see his smile you could hear it in his words. Your head fell down, embarrassed as his gaze fell over you, unable to hold eye contact anymore.

“No, I know, but-” you shook your head, looking everywhere but at him, “I’m just not good at this stuff.” You face felt like it was going to melt off at the admission you had just spoken out, regretting your outfit choice of the day, wanting nothing more than to take off this stupid oversized coat.

He chuckled at you. This was surely the cutest thing he had ever seen before. It was heartwarming to see how flustered you were getting by trying to talk to him. Your hands continued to wring the gloves and he knew there was more you were wanting to ask him.

As he went to ask you what else there was, you spoke out over him again. “Do you want to come hang out at my place? Just for a bit?” You were moving between leaning on both of your legs, shifting weight constantly. Your knuckles were white from the grip you had on the fabric in your palms. He was worried you were going to tear the skin off your lip from how deep your teeth were sunk into it.

He knew he should’ve said no. This wasn’t going to end well. He knew it wasn’t going to end well, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was you. He wanted to spend as much time with you as physically possible.

This was his chance. Dressed as Spider-Man nonetheless, but it was still an opportunity to get to know you just a little bit better. A little bit more.

He said yes. Your mouth lightly hung ajar at his response, not expecting him to agree to it despite how badly you wanted it. Scolding yourself to not get your hopes up to only be let down, but this was better.

When you touched him, he wanted to pass out from the adrenaline rush that surged through his skin at the minimal contact. Your hand had enclosed around his wrist, dragging him across the street to your building as you practically skipped towards the front door.

He shook his head, stopping dead in his tracks when he realized you wanted him to go through the front entrance with him. Your name fell from his lips in a hushed whisper and when you turned to face him, eyes bright and excited that he was going to spend some time with you, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the alley that was adjacent to your building, into the shadows where he lived.

“I can’t go in through the front door.” He watched your expression morph into one of realization and shape into disappointment at what you thought he was saying. He was quick to correct your train of thought. “When you get to your apartment, open the window for me and I’ll come in that way.”

Your dazzling smile returned, setting his chest alight with fireworks. Nodding enthusiastically at his words, you pointed to a window with a fire escape directly below it. “That one’s mine. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Turning quickly and rushing inside, your stomach was flipping with every move you made. Attempting to act nonchalant to the doorman, not wanting to let on that someone, particularly Spider-Man, was going to be sitting at your window. Waiting. For you.

When you shut your apartment door behind you, you quickly shrugged out of your coat, discarding your shoes haphazardly by the entryway before making your way to your bedroom. Your heart slightly fell when you noticed he wasn’t sitting there at the window waiting, but when you slid it upwards, his mask popped down, eyes level with your chin as he hung upside down.

Giggles flew from you as you backed away, watching as he crawled in through the window, moving to your ceiling to scope out the room as he landed on the floor in front of you. “Beautiful place. I particularly like your Peppa Pig figurines on your dresser.”

Your cheeks burned at his words, eyes scanning what he was talking about as laughter escaped him. “It’s an inside joke with my family. My twenty-first birthday was Peppa themed.” His head nodded at your words, following behind you as you made your way to the living room, watching him as he waltzed around your space, taking in all of your personal touches to the room.

A warm mug sat in your hands, another placed on the coffee table waiting for him to sit with you as he continued to silently observe your space. Admiring the photos that decorated the space, trinkets on every square inch of flat surface, organized clutter. It screamed you.

He loved it.

When he plopped down onto the seat next to you, your smirk grew, pointing to the cup. “I made you some hot chocolate. I know you can’t take your mask off in front of me so I will gladly turn my back to the other side of the room so you can enjoy it.”

Not waiting for a response, you shifted on the couch, legs crossed on the cushion, facing the entryway to give him some privacy. A small glint of happiness shot through you as you heard him sipping the warm liquid.

“That is delicious. You could get a job making hot chocolate for a living. I bet you would have a tenured position at the North Pole.” Your head fell back as you laughed, sipping your own drink again after. “Why thank you. It’s a special family recipe.”

He hummed at your response. Peter wanted nothing more than for you to turn around and see him. To talk to him, not Spider-Man. To know that you and Peter got along so well. Spider-Man had nothing to do with it. Acting only as a safety blanket for himself.

You and Peter sat like that for a couple hours that night. Laughing, swapping stories, and when you moved to grab the empty mug to place it in the dishwasher, you noticed his mask was back on. You felt a slight twinge of disappointment wrack you, but you shook it off. You would take what you could get.

Spider-Man was your house guest for two more weeks after that night. He would crawl in your window, you would make you both some sort of beverage, and you would sit and chat for hours until you absolutely had to get into bed and he would have to leave.

Then it all changed.

It was like any other night, sitting in the living room with him, just enjoying his presence, but when you went to grab his cup to take it to the kitchen, you noticed his mask hadn’t been fully placed back down.

Instead, from the nose down you could see the creaminess of his skin, the plump plushness of his lips, the sharp jawline that could cut glass that was freshly shaven, not a lick of stubble. It made your mouth go dry, freezing in your spot, not sure what to do.

This was the most he had ever offered you and it had you shaking. “Spidey?” You spoke out in a breathless whisper, watching as his hand moved to your wrist, urging you to place the cups back down and instead come to him.

You went without fight, sitting down next to him unbelievably close, practically in his lap, the webbing on his suit pressing into the skin where his gloved hands held yours. “Is this okay?” He asked, hand moving to cradle your jaw.

Unable to respond without anything more than a head nod, you watched, eyes focused on what you could see of him, moving to you to capture your lips against his own.

It was like reaching nirvana.

Feeling the soft skin connect with yours in such an intimate way, breathing him into your senses, letting him wash over you in a tidal wave of joy. He didn’t move to take more from you, letting you do as you wanted, not pressuring you to move further along, simply savoring what you were offering.

When he felt the tip of your tongue brush against his lower lip, he greedily accepted, relief pounding him that you wanted this just as much as him. His hands moved from your face to your waist, encircling around you and moving you to straddle him.

Landing a leg on either side of his form you smiled into the kiss, feeling him mimic your move.

You pulled back as his hand moved up your back, trying to feel any part of you he could. “I’ll be right back,” you whispered, moving off of him in a hurry, and towards the hallway.

Switching all of the lights off, you made your way back to him in the pitch black apartment. He was confused, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness quickly to see where you were.

“I can’t see a thing,” you giggled out, hands blindly reaching in front of you to find him. His hand grabbed yours as you did, lightly dragging you to him. He stood, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he did.

You lightly pecked his still exposed lips. “You can take the mask off,” he froze in his spot. He was unsure if he should do it. He wanted to. God did he want to.

Walking backwards, slowly moving him with you towards your room, your shaky hands slowly moved up towards his mask. He didn’t fight you, knowing you couldn’t see him.

Removing it from him completely, you giggled, hands moving towards his face to cup his jaw. Your hands traced his facial features, trying to place a face in your mind simply by feel. Wanting to know what he looked like.

Hands skirting through his locks, he couldn’t fight the smile that grew as he felt your movements. Your fingertips moved down the slope of his nose, feeling the smooth skin between his brows, how long his eyelashes were.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered out. He chuckled at your words, hands moving to land under your thighs, subtly telling you to jump. You did as he asked, legs wrapping around his waist as you did.

He murmured a quick thank you, capturing your lips against his once again. Needing, craving, desperate to feel your lips against his again. It was a messy meeting this time, not as gentle as the first kiss you had shared that night.

Mumbling against his lips and removing your hands from his silky locks, you pointed behind you. “Room is over there,” he nodded, not letting your lips leave his as you spoke.

Spider-Man moved you both towards the bedroom, hurrying his movements as he did. He was effortless in his movements, this being not even remotely strenuous for him, but he found himself breathing heavily, almost panting as he did.

He was nerve wracked, excitement pummeling him at what was happening between you both. He was feeling you against him. Against his actual skin. Not against the suit. It was euphoric.

As he laid you on the bed, he wished he could witness what you truly looked like in the moment, not shrouded in darkness. He would take what he could get.

Giggles fell from you as you pulled back from him, hands moving along the suit. “I’m not sure how to take this off,” his laughter mixed with yours, standing up from the bed and peeling the suit off in quick motions as you did yourself.

The laughter fell off between you two as he came back to you, feeling the bare skin on your rib cage, bra still on. His thumb brushed along the underside of the wire, watching as you shivered under his touch. Feeling how your skin erupted in goosebumps.

He knelt down, lips landing where his fingers had been. Lips moving across your ribs, over your torso, landing underneath your breast as he removed your bra.

Your breathing was short and stuttered as you felt him move across you. Fingers lacing in his hair, eyes slipping shut, wanting to savor this in your memory.

His tongue flattened against your peeked nipple, eliciting a shudder from you, a small gasp following as he enclosed his warm mouth around the bud. Your back arched off the bed and into his grasp as his other hand made steady work of your other perked nipple.

Groaning as you lightly tugged on his hair, placing chaste kisses along your sternum, on the supple flesh of your stomach, to the top of your mound. He watched as your stomach caved in, feeling his warm breath fan across your core.

Your panties were soaked through, a small wet spot decorated the outside, his fingers could feel it as his fingertips traced the mark. Sighing at the motion, he smiled, and although you couldn’t see it, he knew you could feel it.

Removing your panties, he tossed them onto the floor by where his suit laid, breathing in your decadent scent. The tip of his nose brushed along your lips, your head falling back as he did.

“Spidey, please,” your voice was low and choked out, trying to administer to him how badly you needed him. He nodded his head, a kiss landing on the inside of your thigh. “I know,” he didn’t hesitate anymore, burying himself in between your legs.

He ate you like he was a starving man and it was his last meal. The moans coming from you spurred him on, letting him ground his hips into the mattress, aching for some, any, release. When he slipped two fingers into you, you collapsed into a mumbling mess as you reached your high.

Eyes squeezed shut as tightly as they would go, mouth hanging open, overstimulated clit still sucked in between his teeth, fingers still pumping you. Your mind went blank, only able to focus on the pure heaven that encompassed you.

You couldn’t wait much longer, flipping you both to have him lay on his back. He was shocked at the movement, not expecting that at all. You handed him a condom from your nightstand, watching him open it with shaky hands, rolling it over his aching cock.

The head was weeping pre-cum, swollen and glistening a bright red. When you grabbed him, lining him up with your entrance, he held his breath.

His head rolled back onto the pillow, eyes slipping shut with a groan as he sank into your heat. You accepted him inch by inch, whimpers fluttering from you as you did. Not waiting to adjust to him, you started your motions right away, desperate to feel him pulse against your walls.

Spidey held onto your hips with an unbreakable force, slamming his hips up to meet yours, chasing his high as you milked him, feeling your own impending release quickly approaching.

He bent you over, meeting your lips together as one of his thumbs moved from your hip, pushing onto your clit and tracing slow and deep circles as he did. You gasped into his mouth, letting his teeth grasp onto your bottom lip as you did.

As another finish washed over you, Spidey fell into his first. He groaned, arms tightening around you as he did. You two fought for breath as you came down, bodies glistening as you did.

Your hand cradled his face as your breathing evened out, letting him gently guide you back to his lips for a quick kiss. He rested his forehead against yours for a fleeting moment before he did what neither of you wanted to happen.

“I have to go.” You nodded at his words, knowing he had to. Of course he did. But you hoped that he would come back. That he would be back for you.

When Spider-Man escaped from your window that night, you didn’t know what the next week would encompass. Would he still be there to walk you home? Would things stay like they were or was that evening you two had spent tangled in one another the turning point to veer off in a different direction?

These questions pummeled you the entire weekend and as you stood outside of your office building waiting for the garb to enter your vision, your hope was quickly diminishing.

Until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

The guy from the Christmas party was standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes excited as he peered down at you. You gave a tight lipped smile at him, “Hi.” You watched him as he was quite obviously trying to figure out what to say to you.

“It’s you!” Your brows drew together in confusion as you looked at him and shook your head. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you.” His mouth slightly fell open as it smacked him across the face. She had no idea who he was. “Oh fuck,” he rubbed his jaw as you gave an uneasy smile to him, a small laugh following. His head tilted as he tried to figure out what direction he needed to take this, but he was falling apart quickly. He had to think fast.

“You work here.” He followed with your name, watching as your eyes slightly widened, concern taking over the confusion. “Uh, yeah, how do you know that?” Your eyes narrowed, uncomfortable with this strange man knowing this information about you.

“Lucas told me,” was his response. Your head fell to the side, shifting from one foot to the other. “You asked my coworker about me?” His eyes went even wider as he heard how that sounded, shaking his head frantically.

“Yes, but not in a weird way!” You nodded, slowly moving away from him, offering a small wave as you did. “I’m going to go now.” He nodded his head, eyes downcast to his shoes, hands on his hips.

“Good idea. Bye,” your name tumbled from your lips again as you turned on your heel and walked away from him.

Zero for three as Peter.

Spider-Man didn’t come back for the next few nights, your sadness evident at that. You didn’t realize that taking your relationship to the next step with him was going to mean that you would lose his friendship, too. He had been in your life for months now and losing him made your soul ache.

Until that fateful night when he stood waiting outside your work building for you. Your smile didn’t grow as you saw him, instead walking the opposite direction from where he was standing. Your name echoed out into the night as he lightly jogged to catch up to you.

You didn’t stop, but when he jumped in front of you, seeing the angry look painted on your face he knew he was in trouble. “Look, I know you’re upset, but I was gone for a few nights and I am so sorry about that. I sent a replacement to walk you home!”

Not responding to that, his head fell, scratching the back of his neck as it did. “I really am sorry.” You sighed, lightly nibbling on your lip as you answered. “Why would you do that and then not come back to see me? If it didn’t mean anything to you then that’s fine, but at least tell me. Made me feel like shit, Spidey,” his hands moved to cradle your jaw, cheeks lightly pushing together as he did.

“I know and I am so sorry, but it meant the world to me. You have no idea how much it meant to me. I was scared to come back around afterwards because I was petrified I fucked this up,” you nodded your head at his words, seeing him push his mask up to land directly below his nose, colliding your lips in a needy and enthusiastic kiss.

When you pulled back, you eyed him and mumbled out to him. “Who did you send to walk me home?” You watched his lips quirk up in a smile, basically stilling your heart beat at the sight. “A good friend of mine, Peter. Sorry if he freaked you out.” You nodded at his words.

“Yeah, it seemed like I had a bit of a stalker.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, turning you towards the direction of your apartment as you both laughed. “Oh, Peter? No, he’s harmless. Fantastic guy really,” you looked up at him, hand laced with the one that sat hanging over your shoulder, giggles falling from you.

“Is that so? I don’t know, he seemed a little off to me.” He exhaled a large breath at your wods. “Psh! Peter? No, he’s the best guy. In fact, I wouldn’t be who I am without him.” Your eyebrows raised as you two strolled along the empty street. “Wow, that’s pretty amazing.”

He continued on, his tone light with joking. “He is! One time he saved a baby from a burning building. He held up a bridge from collapsing with his bare hands. I mean I could go on and on,” you stopped your movements, pulling away from him as you did.

“How long have you been Spider-Man, Peter?” His head turned to you, a sigh falling from him as he did. Your hand went to the mask where you knew it connected to the suit, pulling it off and being met with the handsome stranger .

Except he wasn’t a stranger at all. The complete opposite really. He had gotten to know you in the most intimate ways a person can learn about a new individual. He knew about your family, what made up the components of your personality, and what made you twist in pleasure from the simple movements from his skilled hands. He knew you.

And you knew him. More than he realized because after that stranger turned up to walk you home that night earlier in the week, you knew who it was immediately. It was Spider-Man.

“A long time.” Was his response to your question that earned a nod in response. Your arms crossed over your chest, mask dangling from your fingertips as his eyes pierced into yours. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me, Peter?” You couldn’t fight the smile that was pulling at your lips.

You giggled, watching his overactive motions still continue even after the mask had been removed, knowing this was just how he was. His gloved hand ran through the messy locks sitting atop his head as his wide and wild eyes fell to your. “Oh, babe you have no idea how badly I wanted to, but there’s,” his head tilted as he looked over you, listening in utter amusement at his words, “something truly hypnotizing about you.”

Your brows drew together in confusion, obviously never having heard that before. “When I saw you for the first time when I handed those antlers back to you, it was like I had been run over by a truck. I had never seen someone as beautiful and riveting as you. I could not get one coherent thought to form in my head.” Your face was burning with embarrassment at his words, not believing what he was spewing to you.

“And then I saw you in the elevator. It was a second chance, but it happened again!” His laughter mixed with his words as he tried to explain this bizarre situation to you. “You put me in some sort of trance because no matter what I tried to say it just would not come out.” He took a deep breath, wrestling with his thoughts if he should confess this next part to you, ultimately deciding he should.

“I thought about you every single day from that Christmas party. You took up every thought I had. I tricked Lucas into telling me your name because I just had to know you. Then the opportunity presented itself that night when I was doing my rounds as Spider-Man and I took it because I had to. It’s you.” You felt tears welling in your eyes at his words, lightly sniffling as his hands took yours in his own, gently squeezing.

“There just wasn’t a time to tell you who I really am. My job is not the safest in the world and you knowing who I am is not entirely safe for you either. I don’t regret it though because it did allow me to get to know you. I just, I don’t know what it is about you, but I am enthralled by you. I want to get to know every little thing there is to know about you.”

When he finished his speech he was panting, words tumbling faster and faster as he continued. Your eyes fell downcast, fingers tracing the detailed webbing of his suit as you sniffled again, trying to will the tears away.

“No one has ever said anything like that about me before.” You shook your head as you said that, a light laugh following. You cleared your throat, standing up straight and seeing his adoring look fall onto yours.

He was worried. Worried that you wouldn’t feel comfortable enough around him after the trickery he had done to keep him around anymore. He wouldn’t entirely blame you if you did choose to stop speaking with him. But he wanted it so badly. Wanted you so badly.

“Do you want to come back to my apartment, Peter? I would like to get to know Peter better. I feel like I know Spidey pretty well, but Peter is a sort of enigma.” His heart leapt into his throat, tongue unable to formulate any words, simply nodding in response.

Your laughter flittered into the air around you both, grabbing Peter’s hand and escorting him down the street to where your apartment building sat, but he stopped you, pulling you into his embrace as he did.

His arms wrapped around you, crushing you to his chest, lips capturing yours as he knelt down to greet you in a warm meeting. Your hands laid flat on his chest, urgently meeting his desperation for one another. When he pulled back his forehead rested against yours and he smiled.

“How about you come see where Peter Parker lives, yeah?” You eagerly nodded your head, eyes going large in excitement. He turned in your grip, kneeling down in front of you as he did. “It’s quite a far walk from him. Pretty fast swing though.” You squealed, laughter mingling together as you jumped on his back.

You placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, arms wrapped around his neck as you began to place his mask back on. “Take me away, Peter.”

He decided right then and there that he would never tire of hearing his name fall from your lips for as long as he lived. You couldn’t wait to see what this handsome stranger had in store for you.

#ficthots #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #andrewgarfield!spiderman #andrewgarfield!peter parker x reader #tasm fanfiction #peter parker andrew garfield #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!smut #peter parker x reader smut #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter x reader smut

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quickspinner · 5 months

Text

Substitute Santa

For @verfound, queen of hilarious prompts, as part of the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Secret Santa.

Her prompt was: Jagged Stone is Santa Claus. However you want to interpret this: Jagged is literally Santa and Luka is his son (a la Hallmark "find a Mrs. Clause for Christmas"). Jagged is dressed up as Santa for an event/Because Jagged. Luka caught Jagged dressed as Santa as a kid and now firmly believes it (Jagged snuck in with gifts for his kids? Last Christmas before Jagged left? Party Anarka drug him to?).

So here we go!

Luka was not pleased at the best of times to be called out of the workshop, up to his father’s “office” (he would have said playground, but it made Penny frown at him). But to be called up today, of all days?

This really can’t be good , he thought, sighing through his nose as he climbed the spiraling stairs.

He didn’t bother to knock, since knocking could almost never be heard over the racket of the workshop below and Jagged’s own…extraness. When he walked in, though, he blinked in mild surprise. The iconic red suit with white fur lining was missing, as was Jagged’s usual ebullient attitude. Normally Jagged was bouncing off the walls on Christmas Eve, ready to rock his way around the world while his cool but stressed assistant tried desperately not to lose her lunch in the passenger seat of the sleigh.

Tonight, though, Jagged was sprawled with his long legs hanging over the overstuffed armchair that they normally only used for photo ops, wearing his favorite purple striped pajamas instead of The Suit.

Luka turned and almost walked right back out again, but Penny and her clipboard had somehow appeared behind him, blocking the exit.

“No,” Luka said to her, but to his annoyance, it was pleading rather than firm.

Jagged let out a concussive sneeze that shook all the knicknacks in the room, and blew his nose like a trumpet before pointing a woeful glance at his son.Luka knew exactly what it would look like, though he refused to turn around to confirm.

“No,” Luka—whined. He was whining. He was man enough to admit it. “No way.” He pointed an accusing finger at his father. “Santa Claus does not get sick on Christmas. There’s gotta be magic or a—a rule or something.”

“There is a rule,” Penny said stiffly behind him, and Luka jumped a little, moving inadvertently further into the room. Penny stepped after him, shutting the door behind her. “The rule is you , Santa Junior.”

Luka rolled his eyes. “Penny…” he whined again, and Penny rolled her eyes. Jagged sneezed again and moaned pathetically.

“Oh, grow up,” Penny snapped irritably, and Luka actually wasn’t sure which one of them she was talking to. She stalked over to the wardrobe and yanked it open. “I don’t have time for your bullshit today.” She pulled the red coat out and turned towards Luka, holding it out.

“Now?” Luka switched tactics. “I haven’t even had dinner yet?”

“Then you should have plenty of room for cookies,” Penny replied, unsympathetic. “Now shut up and get dressed. I’ve assigned you an assistant and she’ll be here any minute.”

Worse and worse. “You’re not coming with me?” Luka asked, accepting the inevitable with the coat.

“I’ve been exposed,” she replied, throwing a dark look at Jagged. “Some of us can handle illness without being reduced to invalids.” She looked back at Luka, and suddenly he could see the tiredness in her expression and the tightness around her slightly watery eyes. “Still, I have a monster headache and I’m going straight to bed once your butt is in the sleigh.”

“Right,” Luka sighed, slipping on the coat. “Sorry, Penny. I know this sucks.”

She acknowledged it with a nod. “I know you don’t want to do this, but it’s got to get done.”

Luka nodded morosely. It was a responsibility he accepted when he came to live with his dad, although he’d been more interested in the workshop than the top job. He’d spent the whole year building instruments for tonight (and being teased about his slow, methodical way of working), and he wasn’t about to let all that work go to waste just because his dad was a dramatic whiny baby.

Not to mention an entire world full of kids who would wake up disappointed on Christmas morning if he didn’t step up.

He swallowed any further whining objections and pulled on the stupid fluffy red pants with nothing more than a long-suffering sigh.

“You’re so his son,” Penny muttered, and Luka gave her a pouty look that did nothing to disprove her statement. It turned even more mulish as she held out the boots.

“Do I have to?”

“You know you do. You’ll trip in those things anyway. They don’t have enough heel to keep the pants off the ground.”

Luka kicked off his shoes without further complaint and put on the stupid boring black boots. He even tied the laces when Penny continued to glare at him. The boots adjusted to fit his feet. At least the vaunted North Pole magic was good for something. The suit shrank a little as well to fit him. Luka took the hat from Penny and stuffed it in his pocket. He’d have to wear it, or the glamor wouldn’t kick on, the one that made him look like viewer expected - chubby and white-bearded, the usual thing.

“I really don’t know what I’m doing,” he warned Penny. “I mean, I can drive the sleigh and stuff but—” She was already waving him off.

“All you have to do is drive and drop the presents. I went over the route and double-checked the lists with Marinette this morning; she’s very organized. Although,” she added, looking up at the clock above the ostentatious mantlepiece, “punctuality has never been her strong point. Make sure you stay on schedule.”

“Yeah, okay—wait, Marinette?” Luka looked up sharply, fixing his eyes on Penny and feeling his stomach flip. “The one that works in the fashion design department?” The one that he seemed to bump into far too often coming into and out of this office, often literally. Jagged gushed about her every time, delighted to have secured such a talented and creative person for his workshop. If there was one thing you could say about Jagged—well, it was that he really enjoyed being revered and loved by all the children of the world, which translated to wanting the best to come out of his workshop so that those children kept adoring him.

He sighed to himself. Even a substitute Santa probably shouldn’t be such a cynic. And Marinette—

If there was another thing you could say about Jagged, it was that he was not at all subtle, and Luka was mortally convinced that his frequent brushes with Marinette in this office were intentional. He should have been doing everything in his power to dodge her, but…

Just then, she barreled in through the door, and his mouth went dry and his breathing quickened. She was flushed from the run up the stairs, eyes bright and eager, and she tripped over her words as she apologized profusely to Penny. She had a tablet tucked under her arm and she was wearing the traditional elf uniform, green with striped stockings and a silly belled hat perched between her pigtails.

She was stupid cute and he felt like his brain was leaking out of his ears even before she turned to smile at him, clearly nervous but also excited. He couldn’t help but smile back.

Before they could say anything, though, Jagged groaned loudly, and Luka just caught Marinette’s arm before she rushed to the poor invalid’s side. “Don’t get too close,” he warned darkly, and winced when she turned wide eyes on him. “I don’t want you getting sick too,” he added quickly, dropping her arm. He felt like an idiot but the look she turned on him was grateful.

“You’re so right, I wouldn’t want to spread anything to the children.” She returned a sympathetic smile to the pitiful look Jagged gave her. “You stay home and rest. Don’t worry about a thing. Luka and I have got this!” She pumped a fist in the air, and Jagged threw her a goat and a grin that actually seemed genuine, and genuinely tired. Luka felt a tiny stab of sympathy, but it disappeared when Jagged blew Marinette a kiss and hoarsely told her she was the best, adding, “Keep the kid out of trouble!”

“Right!” Marinette grinned. Then she turned to Luka and his stomach did that weird flip thing again as her eyes darted over him. “Shall we go?” she said, checking her tablet. “I’ve got our schedule and route all worked out and when I stopped by the stable, they were just finishing up loading. Do you have your hat?”

Luka pulled it from his pocket and waved it, and her smile brightened, making his knees weak. “Lead the way,” he managed to get out, and when she turned he followed right behind her.

Penny whispered, “You can thank me later,” while he passed, and he nearly tripped on his own feet.

Fortunately, his face cooled by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, so he hopefully didn’t look any more like a tomato than the suit already suggested when Marinette turned to him.

“All right,” she grinned at him, linking her arm through his. “Let’s go save Christmas!”

He let her tug him towards the stable, chuckling a little at her enthusiasm. Well, if he had to do this, there was no point in sulking the whole time, right? It was just one night.

Marinette was a whirlwind, checking the packing, checking the harnessing, giving firm but polite directions when she found anything amiss. Luka wasn’t really sure what to do with himself, so he climbed into the sleigh and waited, until Marinette bounced up into the seat beside him.

“I’ve always wanted to ride this,” she confessed, flashing a grin at him. “This is so amazing. Ready when you are, Santa.”

“Luka,” he corrected automatically, but he was smiling as he picked up the reins. He couldn’t help it. “Hold on,” he said without thinking, and suddenly Marinette was pressed tight against his side, both her arms wound around his right arm.

“Can you move okay?” she asked, looking up at him. “There’s not much else to hold on to,” she added, blushing, and he realized he was staring at her.

“Oh—yeah, sure, you’re fine,” he said, and flapped the reins with a little more force than was wise.

He had to admit, as the reindeer started off, gliding across the snow faster and faster before lifting sharply into the air—the sleigh was a rush. He couldn’t help laughing for pure joy at the swooping feeling in his stomach and the sudden surge of adrenaline. Marinette squealed a bit as they came off the ground. She sounded more excited than terrified but he risked a glance at her to make sure she was okay, and saw her grin in a flash of the bouncing lamplight.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she said again, letting go of his arm and sliding over a little bit as they leveled out.

Luka grinned. “Well, we’ll get to do it a few thousand more times.”

“Right,” Marinette said, pulling up her tablet, suddenly all business. Well, that was understandable, but it did kill Luka’s good mood a little. Right. It’s not like he was taking her out for a joyride—or a date.

He really wished he could, though. He’d run into Marinette half a dozen times, but always with Jagged in near proximity, which didn’t exactly bring out the best in Luka. She’d caught his eye every time, but he’d never managed to be walking out of Jagged’s office at the same time, and once he was back in the workshop with his tools in his hands, he tended to forget anything except the vision he had in mind. Luka wished now he’d been a bit more proactive. He could have come up with some excuse to visit her department if he’d thought about it. If only Jagged weren’t so damn pushy, then maybe…

Before he could get too far down that train of thought, it was time for the work to begin, and Luka didn’t have much time to think of anything except getting in, leaving presents, and getting out. Marinette was a good assistant, and everything he needed was right to hand when he needed it. They made a good team. Luka made sure to bring some of the best cookies back to the sleigh for her, to show his appreciation. He loved Penny but Marinette was a lot more fun—especially since Penny got horribly motion sick in the sleigh. He didn’t know how she managed the trip every year, but he supposed someone had to keep Jagged in line.

“Oh, these are good,” Marinette said, as they sailed between towns. Luka glanced at her and saw that she had a molasses cookie in her hand.

“They were,” he agreed.

“My parents own a bakery,” she said, taking another bite. “These remind me of home.” She giggled. “Who would have thought when I was putting out cookies as a little girl that I’d end up actually working in Santa’s workshop?”

Luka chuckled. “I bet you were adorable. I can just see you in fuzzy pajamas, arranging the cookies and worrying about whether Santa has food allergies.”

Marinette barked a surprised laugh. “It’s like you know me,” she said, putting a hand over her mouth as she tried not to choke on her cookie.

Luka grinned. “Maybe not yet, but I feel like I’m getting there.” He winked at her, and she blushed, and he grinned all the way to Budapest.

Luka had no idea how the Christmas magic worked, only that it messed with time, so that Santa could make it everywhere that welcomed him before daylight. When Marinette announced happily that they were running ahead of schedule, though, he had an idea.

“Do you think we can squeeze out fifteen minutes or so before we get to Paris?” he asked. “There’s someone I’d like to stop and see.”

Marinette frowned. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

“Nah,” Luka chuckled. “She already knows all the secrets. I just want to stop and say hello.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, her tone a little strained. “Well, okay…I think we can probably make that happen, if you don’t mind eating your cookies on the go.”

“I think I can manage.”

Landing reindeer on a boat was a no-go, so Luka left the sleigh nearby, hopefully out of sight. He turned and offered Marinette his hand to help her down.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude—” she began, but Luka snorted.

“You won’t be, trust me. You ought to get out and stretch your legs, anyway.”

She let him take her hand and pull her down from the sleigh, though she still looked a little unsure. He kept her hand as he pulled her gently along behind him towards the boat at the dock. The garish paint job was masked by thick swags of twinkling multicolored lights that seemed to dance when they reflected on the water.

When they were standing on the deck, Luka let out a loud “HO HO HO,” in a credible imitation of Jagged’s voice.

There was a thundering sound from inside the boat, and an older woman popped out of the door, scowling.

“What did I tell ya about showin’ up on my boat you old—” Luka pulled off his hat, and she stopped her tirade, blinking, as Luka grinned. “Luka, m’boy!” She laughed, and threw herself forward. Luka dropped Marinette’s hand to catch and hug her, enjoying his mother’s bone-crushing embrace. “What are ye doing wearing the suit, lad?”

Anarka stepped back, looking at him, and Luka shrugged. “Old man’s sick tonight, so I got stuck with the job. It’s good to see you, Ma.”

Her face softened, and she smiled. “Aye, it is that. I know ye probably cannae stay long, but come downstairs for a moment and have something hot to drink. And you too, lass,” she added, leaning a little to look around Luka at Marinette. “Got stuck with babysitting duty, did ye?”

Marinette giggled, and nodded, while Luka pretended to look wounded. “Ma, this is Marinette,” he said as they followed Anarka down the stairs into the ship’s galley. “Marinette, this is Anarka Couffaine, my mom. Where’s Juleka, Ma?” he added, glancing around.

“Passed out on the couch about an hour ago,” Anarka told him, jerking a thumb towards a lump topped with long black hair curled up at one end of the couch. “Never manages to stay up on Christmas. Pretty sure it’s that magic shit. Kids who try to stay up and see Santa never manage it.”

“There should be a loophole when you’re related to him,” Luka muttered. “And she’s hardly a kid.”

Anarka shrugged. “Don’t ask me, I don’t truck with that Christmas magic bullshit.”

“Maybe because she still believes,” Marinette suggested, and she blushed when Luka turned to look at her. “I mean, she knows Santa exists, so she still believes in him, so the magic still works on her.” She spread her hands, looking a little sheepish. “It’s just a thought.”

“Well, maybe.” Luka went over and kissed his sister’s forehead, tucking a creepy-ass doll he had picked out just for her under her arm. “Tell her I love her, okay?”

“O’course,” Anarka brought him a cup of—

“Coffee!” Marinette squealed, and then immediately put her hand over her mouth, eyes round.

“Aye,” Anarka laughed. “I know ya don’t have it ‘up north.’ Cocoa’s fine but,” she grinned at the blissful look on Marinette’s face at the first sip, “sometimes ye just want a good ol’ cup o’ joe. That much sweet all the time, sometimes ye need a touch o’ bitter.” Anarka winked at Luka, who realized he was staring at Marinette with what was probably a very stupid expression on his face. “Or spicy, eh?”

“It’s lovely,” Marinette sighed, fortunately not noticing the way Luka flushed red.

“Ye have to go, I expect,” Anarka sighed, when they handed the empty cups back.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said, glancing worriedly at her tablet.

“Don’t apologize,” Luka told her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s the job. Ma understands.”

“Aye, that I do,” Anarka said, rolling her eyes. “Get on wi’ ye then. Thanks for stopping to see yer ol’ Ma.”

Luka kissed her cheek, and hugged her. “Bye, Ma. I’ll come by again when I can.”

As they loaded themselves back in the sleigh, Luka said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to ask if you wanted to stop and see your own family.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, waving a hand. “They’re surely asleep by now. Bakery hours, you know. And if they weren’t, we’d never get out before dawn. You don’t know my dad.”

Luka grinned and clucked to the reindeer. “Tell me about him.”

The night seemed to pass like lightning after that, conversations pausing and picking up between deliveries as if they’d never been interrupted. Marinette told him about her parents and her life before the North Pole. Luka told her about growing up on a houseboat with Anarka and his sister, and then finding out as a teen that his father was THE Fucking Santa Claus. For the first time Luka thought he could actually feel the magic working, and they left their last delivery and turned back north just as the sun was lightening their section of sky.

“So that’s that,” Luka sighed.

“Yes,” Marinette agreed, and leaned back with a sigh. “I won’t say I had no idea how much work it would be, because obviously it’s hard, but it’s different to actually experience it.”

“Would you do it again?” Luka wanted to know, and Marinette laughed.

“In a heartbeat,” she giggled, and then sobered slightly. “Would you?”

It was a bit of a loaded question. Somewhere in the dark of the night he had confessed to her his misgivings about taking on the mantle one day.

“I think I might,” he said slowly. “The right company makes a big difference.” He smiled at Marinette, and to his delight, she smiled back, in a shy way he hadn’t seen from her before. “We make a pretty good team,” he dared to add, and Marinette nodded.

“And we made so many people happy,” she pointed out, looking back towards the horizon where the sun was rising. “It feels good.”

Luka nodded thoughtfully. “So yeah, maybe I’d do it again.” He shrugged. “I don’t think the old man’s gonna retire anytime soon, so. I’ve got time to think about it.” He grinned. “After I’ve slept for like three days.”

“Agreed.” Marinette covered a yawn. “And I never thought I’d say this, but I don’t think I’m going to want to look at another cookie for at least a month.”

“I’m with you,” Luka laughed, and then licked his lips a little nervously. “So, after we’ve slept for three days…do you have plans for the New Year?”

“N-no, not really,” she stammered, reaching up to check her belled hat, which was slightly askew after all this time, but still there. Luka’s heartbeat sped up at her nervousness, which he thought was both adorable and a good sign.

“Maybe we could go somewhere?” Luka suggested. “Find a good cup of coffee and ring in the new year together?”

Marinette visibly swallowed, blushing before she met his eyes. “Maybe kiss at midnight?” she suggested, quietly but boldly.

“I’d like that,” Luka managed to get out, just barely.

“Hmm. That sounds nice. But…I’m not sure I can wait that long.”

Luka’s hands were on her face and his lips on hers in a heartbeat. The reindeer knew the way home, after all—but at the moment, he honestly didn’t care whether they made it or not. Another few laps around the world was sounding pretty good as Marinette’s arms wound around his neck.

Fiction Master Post

#quickspins #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #pro lukamari #quicksprints

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