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spider-stark · 1 month

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INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place.

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange.

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown.

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter.

Or, at least, none that mattered.

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do.

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play.

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift.

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether.

And Peter never even asked why.

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?”

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.”

And how true that must have been.

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too.

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night?

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.”

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?!

“Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?”

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.”

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter.

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.”

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.”

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter.

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.”

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used.

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar.

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite.

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now.

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?”

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.”

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too.

“Did he?”

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.”

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's.

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him.

“Well did he have anything useful?”

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter.

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups.

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0.

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration.

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear.

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?”

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation.

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.”

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite.

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?”

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.”

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?”

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch.

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?”

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him.

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.”

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.”

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.”

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth.

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.”

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?”

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?”

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.”

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now!

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-”

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!”

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.”

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded.

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere.

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now.

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down…

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.”

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell.

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered.

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night?

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.”

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips.

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world.

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all.

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone.

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting.

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway.

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!”

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!”

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else.

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?”

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?”

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.”

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse.

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully.

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter.

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!”

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.”

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?”

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task.

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway.

“Mj happened.”

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?”

“Yep. That’s the one.”

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.”

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.”

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease.

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth.

You sucked in a breath.

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.”

His brow snapped up. “What changed?”

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours.

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth.

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?”

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance.

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.”

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-”

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.”

“I’m not pretending-”

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.”

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.”

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest.

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.”

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?”

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

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lotus-n-l0ve · 11 months

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𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐀 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞𝐞

— Peter Parker x Stark!Female Reader

☯ SYNOPSIS : When Peter's girlfriend pays him a little visit in Midtown High School and meets his long time bully, Flash Thompson.

☯ WARNINGS : Au, stark!reader, Peter is barely present in the fic, cursing.

☯ NOTE FROM LOTUS : Hey guys. I have been having such a bad writer's block that I couldn't write anything for past few weeks. I'm writing this to, hopefully, get over my writer's block.

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The red Saleen S7 car, parked outside of Midtown High School, gaining curious glances from the students and passersby. You wait, sitting on the driver's seat, with your phone in your hand. The past week you were out of the country with your father so you had not seen him for the past seven days and barely got to talk to him.

So when you came back today, you wanted to give him a surprise visit. You came here, all confident, but now you were doubting your choices. Maybe you should just wait till school ends?

Fuck it. You are Y/N Stark, girl. Since when do you get nervous?

You checked yourself last time in the back mirror. Perfect as always. You throw yourself a flying kiss and put on your favourite pair of glasses. The car door opens with a click and you get down. It was not long before you were walking down the halls of Midtown High, making everyone stop what they were doing and gawk at you.

You chuckle in your mind. Of course you loved being the centre of attention. You were Tony Stark's daughter after all. Now there's one problem. You don't know exactly where Peter is. You look around the hall before your eyes fall on a boy, sitting with two girl on each side.

Without any second thoughts, you walk up to him, "Hey, do you know where Peter Parker is?"

Flash tore his eyes from the beautiful girls in his arm to the legs standing in front of him. He raised his eyes to your face. His gaze so disgusting that made you want to throw up.

"Talking to me, angel?" Flash stood up, abandoning the girls.

You roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt of flirting. At least he got the angel part right.

"I asked if you know where Peter Parker is." You deadpan.

"Peter Parker? Oh! You mean penis Parker. What do you need with him? I'm sure I can help you way more than he can." Flash wiggled his eyebrows at you, giving you a suggestive look.

You just stared at him, completely unimpressed and now angered. This pathetic flirt has the audacity to call your baby penis— wait a damn minute. Penis Parker? Something clicked in your mind.

"Are you Flash Thompson?" You ask before you could stop yourself.

Surprise flashed on his face before a smug smirk appeared on his face.

"Wow! I know that I'm famous but not much. Damn!" He said, running a hand through his hair.

You giggle at his ignorance as you take off your glasses. Folding it and keeping it safely in your hand bag, you step towards him, closing the distance between you two.

"Listen here you little shit." The smirk on his fell at your words, "If I ever hear from Peter that even got anywhere near him, I'll kidnap you, shave off your head, leave you on a deserted island and post your disgusting nudes all over the internet."

"Wh—"

"Shut up and listen." Flash gulped with fear, his face covered in sweat. The menacing aura around you looked scarier than the monster under his bed.

You say while jabbing on his forehead with your pointer finger, "Don't think of him, don't look at him, don't walk on his direction, don't breathe on his direction. Don't go anywhere around my boyfriend. Got it, you failed experiment of a chimpanzee?"

"Y-yes, I....um, I-I..... I under-understand." He nodded his head vigorously. Anything to get away from you.

"Good." You back away, giving him space to finally breathe in relief. Fuck! He didn't know Peter's girlfriend was this scary.

"Y/N?" The familiar voice of your boyfriend called from behind and your demeanour changed like lizards change colours.

"Hey, Pete." You walk up, giving him a quick kiss, "let's go, you are skipping class today. I missed you."

You linked your arm with him and started dragging him out of the school. Peter complied with you because he did miss you a lot too and skipping one day was not going to do any harm on him.

"I missed you a lot." Peter smiled down at you.

You left the school, leaving behind a embarrassed Flash. After you two left did Flash realised the crowd of students circling around him in the hallway. And they were chuckling while looking down at his pants?

Flash looked, "FUCK!"

His blue jeans were now dark blue, water spread on the floor around him. He had peed in his pants. His face turned red with anger and embarrassment. He should not have fucked with Peter.

FUCK!

All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners.

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generalkenobee · 5 months

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Imagine Peter Missing You ...after a long night of patrolling Peter comes in through your window, careful as to not wake your family.

You looked over and saw him, still in his red and blue cald suit "hi baby, how'd everything go?"

When he didn't respond you looked up to see your boyfriend taking off his mask, his hair falling exactly how you liked it. Slightly messy, maybe even sweaty "Peter?"

He pulled you up out of your chair and pushed you into the bed "hey I still have biolo-"

"I'll do it for you" and you knew he would. He'd wake up early the next morning to do all your homework and more.

You felt his knee move up in between your legs "you're so beautiful" you pushed your weight down onto his knee. Peter brought his head down to kiss your neck.

Even though you were the one grinding and getting friction, he was the one moaning and sighing into your skin.

"long night?" In response he only nodded his head

"I missed you so much..I want you now" he paused looking up at you "please"

"here.." you got up and had your boyfriend sit with his back on the head bored. As your actions continued Peter realized what was about to happen "baby no-"

"why not?" You looked up at him.

"I don't want you to do t-that I want you to feel go-"

You cut him off by shoving him into your mouth "(Y/N s-stop" peters hand came down to hold your face while you sucked him in a little deeper each minute "why?"

"because I want you to feel.."

You giggled to yourself "oh I can feel it"

#x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker #mcu!peter x reader #mcu!peter parker #marvel! peter Parker #tobey!peter parker smut #tobey!peter parker x reader #tobey!spiderman #tobey!peter parker #tobey!peter x reader #tom! spider man #spider man smut #spider man #tom! peter x reader #tom!peter parker x reader #tom!spiderman

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abibliophobiaa · 2 years

Note

Peter getting his wisdom teeth removed and just being super clingy and affectionate with reader, i love ur stuff btw :)))

thank you so much for this one! haha i love best friends to lovers with my whole heart. so hope you enjoy. 🤍🤍 only fluff ahead. fem!reader.

When Peter asks you to take him to get his wisdom teeth out, you’re more than willing to help. His Aunt May happened to be working a late shift last minute, leaving you to wait in the oral surgeon’s office as they take your best friend back into the operating room.

A little over an hour—and a few outdated celebrity magazines later—and one of the dental assistants calls you back into the room to retrieve your friend who is currently perched on a chair, staring down at his shoelaces intently.

“Did you know I have eight shoelaces? I guess I tied my shoes extra tight this morning.”

Double vision. That’s right.

“There’s two of you, too. Two is better than one, so they say.” He holds up two fingers in his excitement of seeing you, earning a giggle from the woman standing in the corner.

“Is he okay to go home?” You ask, moving closer to Peter. Snorting at the wads of gauze balled up in his mouth, garbling his speech.

“Yes, his surgery went great. The doctor gave a packet of what to expect during recovery. He should come back in a week or so to check up on his stitches, but other than that you are both good to go.”

At that, you gesture for Peter to get up off of the chair and grunt as he slams into your side. Feet very much that of a baby doe’s. Once he’s upright, you press into his side just to be extra safe and lead him toward the door the assistant opens for the two of you to pass through.

“Ha. There’s still two of you. Two of the prettiest person in the whole world.” He bops you on the nose, wrinkling his own in his laughter. “I’m a lucky guy.”

“Okay Casanova, let’s get you home.”

Getting him into the car proves to be interesting. He’s all gangly and floppy limbs. The sedation still making him unaware of his surrounding as you finagle him into the seat.

His legs remain on the outside of the car, fingers moving to turn the knob on the volume of the radio and raising it to an obscene volume as he shouts the words to the song through the cottony mouth he sports.

“But you’re in London and I break down ‘cause it’s not fair that you’re not arounddddd…” He drums out the beat on the dashboard as you shove at his feet. “This is when the feeling sinks in, I don’t wanna miss you like thisss. Come back, be here. Come back—”

“Hey, hey. We don’t want to cause a public disturbance, now do we? Plus I think we should leave Taylor to do what she does best—”

You wave your hands in the air in your victory as you manage to get the rest of him inside the car and close the door shut.

“You know I met her, right? Nice lady,” he says as you drop down onto the driver’s seat and shift the car into drive.

“You mean Spider-Man met her.”

“Spider-Man. Schmider-Man. I’ll have you know I’m a great singer. Some people just don’t appreciate real talent when they hear it.” He pouts, reaching into his mouth to pluck the gauze from within his cheeks.

Your hand reaches out immediately to curl around his forearm. He stills. “You’re not supposed to take that out.”

“Oh. That’s right. I’m sorry.”

It’s the dejected tone in his voice that rips your heart down the middle as you pull into his Aunt’s driveway. You turn to look at him, noting the way his eyes roam your features.

“You gonna help me get you inside, big guy?”

His eyebrows waggle seductively at the ‘big guy’ comment and you don’t even want to know where his anesthesia addled mind runs off to. Can’t be anywhere good what with the way he’s eyeballing you like that. You chalk it up to him not being in his right mind and help him walk up the short distance to the home before leading him into his bedroom.

“Alright, into bed you go.”

“Trying to get me into bed, hmm, Daisy?”

Daisy for your favorite flowers growing up.

Your heart always skips when he says it—this time no exception. His sluggish smirk teases at the fact he recognizes the uptick as well. But you clear your throat and shove the emotions aside.

“Come on now.”

He does as told, lowering himself onto his back beneath the comforters. You manage to tug his shoes off as he cozies up and move to head back down the hall when he calls your name.

“Yes, Pete?”

“I’m tired. Can you come here?”

“It’s just the anesthesia. It’ll taper off,” you reassure him, hand gripping the doorframe.

His eyes go soft around the edges and you note the slight downturn of that full mouth. Groan and separate yourself away from the door as you climb into bed beside him. You both turn onto your sides, hands resting in between the two of you. His eyes growing heavier and heavier by the second.

“Thank you,” he mutters.

“No problem. Now try to get some sleep.”

He shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable beside you. “Okay, okay. Night, Daisy. I love you.”

And then he’s out like a light. As if he never said those three words and left them suspended in the air between the two of you. You know it’s only the looseness of his lips due to what they’ve sedated him with, yet your mind races anyway.

You’ve felt something far outside the realm of friendship toward Peter for ages now. Months, really. The prospect of him ever feeling the same seems so unlikely. It doesn’t happen that way in real life, right? Not like in the stories or the movies where the best friends fall in love.

So you decide to shelve his words into a folder in your mind labeled “Not going to happen” and close your eyes.

When you wake, you’re a tangle of limbs with Peter. Legs intertwining. His thighs slotting between yours as he holds you from behind. Arm right around your waist. Cradling your back against his chest.

A slow, simmering nervousness begins to form low in your gut. This has certainly never happened before. And likely would not be happening were it not for the lingering after effects of his surgery.

“What’s wrong?” A voice asks from behind you, warm breath seeping against the back of your head.

“Uh…oh, I don’t know. We’re cuddling might be a start?”

“I’m okay with it if you are.”

That’s…new. Interesting.

You settle back against him, reaching over onto his night stand to grip your phone in hand. A picture of Peter with flowers in a halo around his head and a smile on his face greets you. Your profile is in the picture as well. Caught in a half laugh.

You notice the new text message from Aunt May and slide the phone open. Immediately earning the attention of Peter as he peers over your shoulder and notices you’ve sent a video of him to her. Plus the dozens of laughing face emojis she sent you in reply.

“What’s that?!”

“Oh, you mean your performance to all of New York in the key of screeching cat in a back alley?”

“Let me see that!”

He reaches around you to grab at the phone, earning a shriek from you as you flip over onto your stomach to hide the phone from him.

“I’m keeping this forever. You will not ruin this for me, Park—”

You break off into a fit of laughter as wiggling fingers catch your side and the phone shifts as you flip onto your back to shove at your fiendish, brown-haired attacker.

“You’re supposed to be resting!” You argue, shoving his thigh with your foot so he’s no longer hovering over you and instead slipping backward a bit further on the bed.

In his momentary lapse of attention, you grip the phone and slide it down your shirt. AKA, no man’s land for Peter Parker. He notices this, groaning as he falls foreword and rests his head against your thigh.

“How bad was I?”

“You thought you had eight shoelaces. You performed a beautiful rendition of Taylor Swift’s ‘Come Back…Be here.’ Was beautiful really. Really felt all the emotions with that one. Didn’t know Spider-Man was a Swiftie.”

He groans again. “You’re the one who played the ‘All too Well’ ten minute version so many times I ended up learning all the words. Just so happens the rest of the album is really good too. Sue me.”

“You also told me I was the prettiest girl in the world.” You bite your lip.

Might as well see where this goes.

His head lifts at this. “I mean, that one I could have told you while not under anesthesia.”

You feel heat rush to your cheeks at that. “Yeah? It’s just…you never have. Told me, I mean.”

His smile softens. Fingers curl around your wrist as he shifts his legs beneath him and settles down beside you. “You’re the prettiest girl in the world.” And then he’s the one burning up in the face. “Did I say anything else?”

“Nope. That was all.”

Lie.

“You sure?” He asks.

Your head dips once. “Yup.”

“You know I can tell when you’re lying to me, right?”

You curl your own feet beneath you. Sitting up in front of him. Your fingers toy with the leg of his shorts mindlessly.

“You know how I can drink and not really feel anything at all from it? Or how I heal ridiculously fast. Or just the fact my senses are enhanced overall?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

You glance up again, noting the way he’s looking at you.

All soft gazes and slow smiles. His morning sleepiness still clinging to those serene features. He’s so annoyingly handsome even like this. You fight the urge to reach your fingers forward and trace the line of his cheek. Just to see how it feels beneath your palm.

“When I asked you to lay down with me I felt ninety-nine percent myself.”

“Oh.”

“I…uh, love you, Daisy. Have for a while now honestly. You know it, don’t you?”

And maybe you have always known, in a way. Peter’s never said it so much as in words but in actions. His endless caring for you. The way he’s always there to lend an ear. The simple fact he’s the person you run to everything for. Your safe space. The brightest ball of light in human form to walk into your life.

“I love you, too, Pete.”

It’s not awkward. Lightning doesn’t crash down and strike you like you imagine it might. It’s almost normal. Nothing changes. Not really. There’s just a quiet understanding.

“So where do we go from here?” He asks.

“You go and gently brush your teeth. Because I want to kiss you, but you just got a few teeth removed from that stubborn head of yours. And then you get to ice your face all day and watch Netflix.”

“With you?”

“No, with your neighbor. Now go, go!”

Some time later, the two of you are sprawled out together watching endless episodes of your favorite TV show. You rest between Peter’s thighs, back against his chest as a laptop rests on your lap. Midway through an episode you turn your head and smile into Peter’s lips as they claim your own. Soft and inviting. Sweet and pliant beneath your own. He moves to press a kiss into your brow after, brushing a hair away from your cheek to tuck it behind your ear.

“Can I see the video you sent Aunt May now?”

“I will not accept kisses as bribery.”

“But can you be convinced?” He bats his eyelashes in jest.

“That is to be determined.”

He kisses you again. One, two, three times. A whisper of I love you against your skin.

“How about now?” He whispers.

You huff. “Fine, Peter Swift. Just know I warned you and I’m not deleting it ever.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Daisy.”

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dinobae · 3 months

Text

Caught In Their Webs Part Four

I'm finally continuing the series.... No seriously, if anyone still wants to read this here it is. I fell out of the fandom for a while when it was messing with my mental health a bit. But here is Part Four, and it's time for TASM Peters love! (Canon divergence)

...This is also not Beta'd and I am not that great at writing. But still, please enjoy.

----

With the other two Peter Parkers out hunting green goblin. TASM Peter is tasked with keeping you safe. But how can you even begin to handle the fact the Green Goblin is hunting you down when you're falling in love. You know you've been completely in love with your world Peter Parker but ignore your feelings because of MJ's relationship with Peter. But after sleeping with older Peter your mind is rocked. Trying to deny these budding feelings for the oldest Peter you can't help but feel your heart flutter around the tall and shy Peter. But you're not crazy enough to be in love with all three... Right???

Word Count: 4000+

Andrews!Peter= Peter Toms!Peter= Parker Tobeys!Peter = Pete

You shifted uncomfortably in chair you were sitting on. After your universe's Peter or Parker as he was temporarily designated got back to your apartment you were given little time to pack as much as you could in a backpack and dip out of your apartment. The three spider boys all agreeing that since Green Goblin knew your name, it would be too dangerous to stay in the apartment leased under your name. Which led you to Ned's grandmothers house where you were currently sitting at the table on a horribly uncomfortable chair.

MJ and Ned sat by your sides, while the three Peters were all anxiously discussing plans over the table. MJ and Ned were talking too, but you heard nothing but a slight buzzing noise in your ears. Overwhelmed with a pit of dread, anxiety, fear.... and guilt.

"Y/N!" You jolt as someone shouts your name. You glance up quickly to see everyone at the table staring at you with concern.

"We said your name like a hundred times dude... You weren't answering" MJ states softly, hand coming up to your shoulder as she looks at you with concern.

You smile weakly. "Sorry, I must have zoned out. What were you guys saying?" you question softly as you turn to face the rest of the group. Everyone's eyes on you.

"We were talking about the plan... But I'm assuming you didn't hear the any of it?" Parker questions softly, looking at you slightly exasperated.

Glancing up at him, you shake your head with a feeble smile. "N-No, I'm sorry." You sigh heavily, "But I'm listening now... So, what's the plan?"

Pete smiles at you gently, "You are going to stay here until we figure this out. Someone will be with you constantly to keep you safe. Your universes Peter... Parker is going to find Doctor Strange and tell him what's going on," Pete says gesturing to Parker. "While I will patrol the streets, this is my Green Goblin were facing, and I have defeated him before. I have the best shot at getting him," Pete explains, standing from his seat across you on the table before slapping a hand onto the tall shy Peter's shoulder. "Which means Peter here is going to stay with you and keep you safe," Pete grins at you.

You glance at the tall boy, your eyes connecting briefly before his eyes drop and he glances down shyly a feeble smile on his lips. Your mine briefly flashes back to your encounter this morning, where Peter found you and Pete in a compromising position. A blush warming your cheeks as you glance down at the table nervously.

Unbeknownst to you Parker tenses as he watches this interaction, jaw clenching as he glares at Peter with a questioning look. An action that doesn't go unnoticed to MJ sitting next to you, who is watching her boyfriend with an analytical expression.

The tension between both parties is broken when Ned's grandmother suddenly bursts into the room holding a plate of cookies and placing them on the table without a word. Before shuffling back into the kitchen mumbling something about needing lots of milk.

Pete smiles grabbing a cookie and shoving it in his mouth. "Well, let's go save the day," he mumbles through a full mouth.

-----------

Two hours later you find yourself being led into a tiny guest room by Ned, with Peter hovering awkwardly in the door. The room is small, a double bed with a bedside table. An ugly floral print sheet on the bed, and a matching flower designed lamp on the bedside table.

"Yea, it isn't much. But it's the only spare room," Ned says awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "But don't worry, its super clean. My grandma keeps a clean house," He grins at you toothily, which earns a chuckle from Peter behind me.

"It's fine Ned... This is great" you smile at him awkwardly, before walking over to the bed and collapsing back onto it with a huge, defeated sigh.

"I'll leave you to it then. See you tomorrow morning," Ned says cheerily, walking out of the room and past Peter who is still hovering in the doorframe.

You lay there for a moment more feeling absolutely exhausted. Before you sit up abruptly, startling Peter who jolts away from the doorframe. Standing alert, he stares looks at you with shock.

"Wait, this is the only spare room?" you question loudly. You turn and face Peter, who is still looking at you in alarm. "Where are you gonna sleep?" You question worriedly.

Peter relaxes then, a soft smile gracing his features as he looks at you softly. "Don't worry, I'll be on the couch," he says fondly. "And I'll be just downstairs if you need me," he grins shyly, leaning against the doorframe again.

You stare at him stunned for a moment, distracted by how handsome and sexy he looks leaning against the door like that. Before shaking your head softly, clearing your thoughts. "You can't take the couch. I'll take the couch," you say firmly. "You need to be well rested before you fight," you state with a frown, head shaking in worry.

"Oh no. No way I'm going to let you have the couch " Peter says with a frown. Standing he crosses his arms across his chest looking at you with a stern expression. You go to speak again before he cuts you off, "You can fight me as much as you want, I am not gonna let you sleep on that couch!" he says defiantly, looking at you with determination.

You both stare at each other intensely for a moment. Before you shrug at him, a smug expression flitting over your face as you stand from the bed. Peter looking at you warily, wavering at your sudden confidence.

"Well, if you won't take the bed. I won't take the bed. And if you won't let me take the couch, then I guess I'll just have to stay on the floor," you shrug with a grin, as you begin to sink onto the floor. Peter jumps in alarm at this, rushing over to you and pulling you back up by the shoulders.

"No. Please," he sighs as he hoists you back onto the bed, arms holding your shoulders. Shaking his head with a frown he looks down at you with his big brown eyes. "Please. Please just sleep on the bed... For me," he whispers out softly, giving you the best puppy dog eyes you've ever seen.

You bite your lip harshly, as you start to lose all resolve. You stare into his eyes, willing yourself to not give in, but find yourself unable to look away from those beautiful eyes. Glancing down at his lips quickly, you look back into those soft eyes and let out a big sigh before looking down at your lap.

Peter smiles victoriously then, briefly thinking his has won. Before you glance back up into his eyes, a pout on your lips as you give him the biggest puppy dog eyes you can. Your E/C eyes shimmering, as you stare at him pleadingly.

"Fine I won't take the couch. If..." You start to say, pouting up at him as you grip his forearms from where they still hold your shoulders. "If we both take the bed?" you whisper up at him, nerves suddenly filling your stomach.

Peter tenses suddenly, looking at you with shock. His hands gripping your shoulders tightly. You glance up at him worriedly, worried you had overstepped your bounds.

He stands up straighter, removing his arms from your shoulders. Before scratching his neck nervously. You bite your lip harshly, about to speak up and retract your statement before Peter speaks.

"Ok," he says with an anxious smile, shuffling on his feet gently.

Your heart flutters, face flushing as you feel suddenly extremely aware of the situation.

"Yea, ok. That uh... Thats good then," you say with a soft smile, turning to the side to hide the blush forming on your face.

--------

Later, the two of you are laying rather stiffly next to each other on the bed. The bed is rather small for two people and Peter is pressed as far away from you as possible. It also certainly doesn't help that the handsome boy sleeps shirtless.

In that moment he feels so close yet so far away. You can feel the heat radiating from your side. All you would need to do is shift a inch or so to the left and you could press yourself against his bare, hot... chiselled... defined chest. 'Snap out of its YIN!' you think to yourself, shaking your head in attempt to clear your head of sinful thoughts.

In the dark you nervously glance over, finding his figure in the dark. He's lying flat on his back breathing steadily, but he looks rigid and tense. You can't help but think he looks very uncomfortable.

"Peter? Are you awake?" you whisper out softly.

"Yea," Peter whispers softly, shifting slightly when you speak.

"Can I ask you something?" You question with a whisper.

"Yea" he replies, head turning on his pillow to face you.

At first, you want to comment on how uncomfortable he looks while sleeping. "Earlier, when you caught me with Pete. Why did you look at me like you were... Sad?" You blurt before you even register what you're asking.

Peter tenses suddenly, seeming to hesitate. Before he can speak however you cut him off. "Oh I mean. You were probably just uncomfortable right? I mean, because I was with another Pete and i.."

"Hey, I um. I wasn't uncomfortable," Peter cuts of your rambling suddenly, shifting closer to you on the bed. "I just... It's hard to explain." he says nervously, a hand coming up to your cheek, brushing a hair behind your ear.

"I'm a good listener?" you state softly, cheeks flushing as he brushes your hair behind your ear. He lets out a soft sigh at your statement, bringing his hand in-between you as he shifts on to his side to face you. You mimic his movements, turning onto your side to face him.

"Well, I had a YIN in my universe as well." He states nervously, hands fiddling with the bedsheet.

"You did" you whisper out questioningly. You had some suspicions based on how the two other dimension Petes had treated and looked at you. But it was alarming to hear out loud.

"Y-yea." He begins, seemingly nervous. "My YIN was my best friend. She was there for me for as long as I could remember. And she was there for me when... When Gwen..." He sniffles slightly, choking on his words. You bring a hand up, grabbing his in your own softly.

He sighs, grabbing your hand tight in his, squeezing it tightly. "Well, YIN was there for me when Gwen died. She was my rock, and one day she... she told me she had feelings for me..." He whispers out, my hand gripping his hard at the news. "And I. I didn't react well... I pushed her away, I yelled and screamed. I told her I didn't feel the same... And I ended up pushing her out of my life completely. We haven't spoken since." He whispers out, crying softly at his confession.

"Oh wow, Pete... That's a lot" you whisper out, bring your free hand up to his face to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"I hated how I reacted; I was just so upset... All I could think about was Gwen. I regretted it instantly." He sniffles, leaning into your hand on his face. "I was too ashamed to ever find her again... But the worst part is. I loved her as well." He sighs softly, closing his eyes as he brings a hand up to cup your hand on his face. His other hand intertwining your fingers on the bed. "Seeing you and Pete together. It gave me a sense of what I could've had if I wasn't so..." he says softly, eyes opening again to peer at you.

You'd moved closer during his story, your body flushed against his. Moving your softly hand down his cheek, you bring your thumb to his lips. "You... You could still have that, Peter. You can find your YIN, reconcile," you say breathily, pressing your chest against his.

"I can't" he sniffles out, crying a little harder. "She moves on. She's happily married now with kids. I can't be in her live" he whispers while stroking your hair softly.

"I'm sorry you lost your chance Peter, I'm sorry that this happened to you" you say, your other hand unlatching from his grip as you cup his cheeks with both hands. "But... you can always have a chance now?" you whisper out shakily, looking at his lips.

(SMUT HERE WILL CONTINUE AT ===== IF YOU WANT TO SKIP)

His eyes widen, before his mouth crashes onto yours, his hands coming up to cup your back as he pulls you close to him. You kiss him back feverishly, teeth clacking as you kiss each other hungrily. His tongue running along the bottom of your lip before gripping it with his teeth and sucking into his mouth.

You whimper into his mouth, one of your legs coming up to his waist as you press against him. He growls softly into your mouth, hands coming onto your waist and pulling you on top of him. You gasp as you straddle him, your core pressed right onto his crotch.

He takes advantage of your open mouth, his tongue pushing past your lips. You whine as his tongue dominates yours, unable to stop your hips from bucking against him. He groans into your mouth at that, hands gripping your hips tight as he begins to pull you against him. One of his hands reaching up and gripping your hair tightly as he pulls you further into the searing kiss. You can feel all the desperation and want coming from him as he hold you so tight it almost hurts.

With your lips now pressed perfectly against his you begin to rock back and forth. You quickly find a rhythm, and you can't stop your whines as your cores is pressed into the bulge in his pyjama shorts over and over again. The thin material adding to the pleasure. With a particularly hard thrust from Peter below you, you notice that he's also commando under his thin pants. You mewl when you notice this, your panties starting to feel drenched.

His other hand comes to your shirt, reaching up and stroking his way up your body to your nipples. He reaches up, grabbing on and tugging it hard, causing you to gasp into his mouth. He fumbles a little when he tries to switch to your other nipple, and he lets out a growl of frustration.

Before you even register what's happening, Peter has flipped you onto your back and ripped your shirt down the middle exposing your bare breasts. His mouth not once leaving yours as he does this. Kissing you feverishly he brings both hands to your breasts, pulling and tugging desperately. His hips bucking against your core in a steady rhythm, both your pants and his completed coated in the added slick and pre-cum coming from you both.

"Y/n" he groans into your mouth loudly before pulling back and staring down at you longingly. He gives your left nipple one last twist, before his hand starts running down your body and past them hem of your panties. He groans loudly when he runs his fingers up and down your folds. "So wet. Is this really for me sweetheart?" He questions, his expression self-conscious as if he doesn't believe he could be turning you on so much.

"Yes Peter. All for you, you're turning me on so much," you say passionately one of your hands reaching up and gripping his cheek gently as you speak. Peter looking down at you then with a sudden ferocity in his eyes. "Fuck Peter, I neeeeeeed," you start to stay before it turns into a moan as Peter suddenly shoves two fingers inside of you and starts thrusting hard and fast. You let out another yelp as he starts going so hard and fast, barely giving you any room to adjust.

"Sorry sweetheart, but if you keep talking like that I won't last long, and I want to come inside of you," he groans throatily, looking down at you with a hazy lust in his eyes. When you gasp and grab his arms tightly, he does hesitate worried he's gone too far. Before you quickly grip his arms again begging him to continue. He smiles softly down at you then, thrusting a third finger in suddenly while his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub fast yet soft circles.

You jolt underneath him, surprised at how fast you could feel that familiar tension in your abdomen as he draws you closer and closer to the edge. You throw your head back eyes closed as, rock your hips against his hand chasing that feeling. His long fingers prodding against your g-spot while his thumb starts rubbing perfectly against your clit. When your right on the edge you open your eyes to find Peter looking down at you with such awe, his beautiful brown eyes sparkling. It all it takes for you to go over the edge, all the while staring into his big doe eyes.

When you settle back down, he kisses you softly and sweetly. He leans back and pulls your pants and panties completely off, gasping softly when he sees how drenched they were. He looks over at you sheepishly, a small grin on his face he pulls down his own pants, freeing his leaking member.

You audibly gulp when you look at it. Briefly thinking of the other Peters. The older Pete had a very thick girthy member that was around 5 & half inches. But this Peter had a long thin member, at least 9 inches and currently straining against his stomach. As he crawled back up to your hips you couldn't help but wonder what your Peters looked like.

A hysterical thought filled you as you pondered sleeping with him just to complete the set. As if you were collecting getting fucked by different Peter Parkers. However, you were shaken from these wild thoughts when you felt Peter's member prodding against your entrance. Shaking your head softly you refocused on the shy handsome man above you.

Peter looked nervous and excited but was staring down at you expectingly waiting for permission. Before you say anything, you glance down and see that he had put a condom on whilst you were daydreaming. A glance back up at him shows you his face now filled with worry as you continue to say nothing. He opens his mouth to speak but stops when you reach a hand down and tug off the condom.

Peter opens his again, but you cut him off. "I'm on the pill," you smile up at him, before redirecting his member to press against your entrance, a silent approval for him to continue. He smiles toothily down at you before pressing into you softly.

You quickly start a slow but deep rhythm, as he rocks his member against you. Your moans are so loud as he reaches parts within you that have never been reached. The pace is slow and steady for a while, before you start to loudly beg him to go harder and deeper. He reaches down and grabs on of your legs, hoisting over his shoulder as he starts to ram into you like a man possessed.

You're practically screaming as he fucks you in this new position, each thrust pressing the tip of his head past your cervix. Your mind briefly regards that there are other people in the house and your borderline screaming, but a sudden angle change against your g-spot wipes your mind of anything but Peter. Peter comes first, groaning into your neck as he empties inside of you. His thumb coming down to help you follow suite.

The two of you lay there panting for a while, before Peter starts to lay sweet kisses on your lips. He kisses you softly till you fall asleep, only briefly stirring to the feel of a damp towel cleaning you off. Your dreams now filled with Peter and Pete, and the happy lives you could live.

Within the rest of the house, Ned's grandma sleep heavily undisturbed by any noise. While Ned stares up at his bedroom roof, eyes bulging and looking traumatized... As well as a seething Peter Parker, your Peter Parker who had returned home to check on you.

======= (END SMUT)

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed. Frowning you glanced around the room looking for Peter but couldn't see the tall man anywhere. Before you could worry you noticed a glass of water and a note. Picking it up you read what it said.

Out on Patrol with the other world Pete, we got an idea on the location on green goblin. Your Peter came home this morning, he'll protect you while we are gone. Stay safe and hydrate. :)

You smile softly at the note, changing into some of your spare clothes as you head downstairs. When you walk into the kitchen, your Peter and Ned are sitting at the table.

"Good morning, everyone," you say softly as you sit down, Neds grandmother quickly dropping a plate of food in front of you before walking back into the kitchen. As no one responds you glance up to see Ned staring red faced as his plate, refusing to make eye contact with you. When you glance over at Parker you flinch as you make eye contact. He's glaring at you intensely, eyes piercing yours with such intensity you almost feel afraid.

"What's wrong with you?" I demand with sudden confidence, unable to handle the intensity of his glare.

"What's wrong with me?! What's wrong with you!??" He shouts, slamming his hands on the table as he stands. Ned turns to look at him in shock, and you flinch as he stands. You don't think you've ever heard Peter shout like that, and never at you.

"I don't understand," You respond hesitantly, not wanting to further upset him. "I didn't do anything wrong," you say worriedly.

Peter barks out a horrible laugh at your words, looking at you with venom in his eyes. "You did nothing wrong? You opened your legs to the other universe's Peter like a whore! That's pretty wrong to me," he shouts at you, slamming his hands down on the table again cracking it with his strength.

You let out a loud gasp at his words and hear two other gasps as well. Glancing over you see Ned staring at Peter in shock. "Peter Parker!" is heard behind you. Turning around you see MJ standing in the door. The source of the other gasp you assume. She is glaring at Peter, her hands on her hips. You'd also never seen her look so angry. Which is saying something considering that she was angry a lot.

Turning back around to face Peter you go to shout at him, defend your actions but you halt when you see him. He's no longer staring at you with anger, but utter devastation. Tears are falling from his eyes and his lips are quivering as he stares at you.

"Peter?" you question softly, flabbergasted at the sudden mood change. Unable to help yourself you reach across the table for him hand, but he jumps back. He stares at you for a moment more, tears flowing harder now, before he runs out the back door. You, Ned and MJ go to chase him, but when you hear the familiar sound of his web shooter you halt, knowing there was no chance to catch him.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you turn to see Ned and MJ looking at you concerned. "I didn't say anything. I don't know how..." Ned mumbles out, looking at you with both guilt and concern. MJ opens her mouth to speak then. But you suddenly take off running, sprinting up the stairs and into your temporary room. Slamming the door behind you, you begin to cry softly. Never had Peter ever spoken or looked at you like that. It was devastating. You fell onto the bed, thinking of the other two Peter's and how you wished they were here.

You notice neither Ned or MJ had followed you upstairs, and you were grateful. Your cries softened eventually, and you leaned back into the bed as you started to fall asleep. Before you heard the sound of breaking glass. Jolting up from the bed you glance at the window and see a weird looking ball. Looking at in shock and confusion you faintly notice the sound of beeping and laughter... Before everything went white.

-------

I know these tags are super old, but idk. Let me know if you want me to remove you from the tag list lol.

@mcugeekposts, @infp-t-rhi, @wilder-fangirl, @comedinewithmeyeh, @druigswh0ree, @mysticbear21, @tristansaurusrex, @panicattheeverywherekid, @xoxoloverb,

#tasm peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #spiderboys x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm smut #tobey!peter x reader #tom!peter parker x reader smut #tobey!peter parker x reader smut #Tasm!peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #tobey!peter parker x reader

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murdrdocs · 2 years

Text

peter blurb wooo

he pistons into you in a manner that was almost unrecognizable from your boyfriend.

briefly, you considered lifting the remainder of his mask just to make sure that some civilian hadn’t gotten into his suit and found you.

but you were sure this was peter.

you knew this was peter. even with his face completely covered.

and it made it so much hotter.

your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into the webbed material. your head was against the dirtied brick wall that made up your apartment building, and with each of peters thrusts your scalp rubbed against it, along with the rest of your body.

eventually, you winced and pushed your body further into peters, chest against chest.

his thrusts stopped immediately and his suit eyes looked into yours.

“am i hurting you?” he asked, voice already dripping with building guilt.

you shook your head and gestured back towards the wall behind you. “brick,” you softly explained.

“oh.” peter said. his grip on your hips shifted until he only had one hand squeezing the forgotten denim of your skirt and the other was wrapped around your back. then, he took a step back so that you weren’t in contact with the brick wall at all.

and as if the position hadn’t changed at all, peter continued fucking you like a madman.

#this is tobeys peter in my mind #but all 3 work #peter parker x reader #tobey!peter x reader #tobey!peter parker #tom!peter parker #tom!peter x reader #andrew!peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #peter parker smut

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writeroutoftime · 1 year

Text

you're stunning

pairing: tasm/tobey!peter parker x reader

summary: when peter takes your picture unexpectedly, he learns how you feel about yourself and tries to change your mind.

warnings: none

words: 633

a/n: honestly this could work for any peter, I just know the mcu didn't really focus on photography with tom's peter. but please enjoy this fluffy little story I thought up a while ago :) also requests are open if you'd like to send something in!

oOoOo

click-click

The shutter of the camera caught your attention, your body spinning around instantly. Reflexively, your body caved inwards on itself while your hands wrapped around your torso, seemingly trying to shield yourself from Peter’s - and his camera’s - view.

“Peter what are you doing?” you cried out.

“I just wanted a quick picture of you sitting there studying. The lighting was great and you look stunning.” he said with a soft grin as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Delete it." you pleaded, avoiding Peter's gaze by focusing your stare on his camera that now hung loosely in his hands.

Peter set the camera to the side and took a few steps closer to your, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? Why would I want to delete it?" he asked while fidgeting with his glasses.

Sighing, you closed your eyes as you tried not to let your emotions get the best of you. "Because I know I look awful. I wasn't ready and I didn't get to pose or prepare or anything." you whispered, voice shaky as the tears welled in your eyes.

In an instant, Peter knelt by your chair, hands resting gently on your knees. His thumbs ran back and forth against the fabric of your pants soothingly as he willed you to open your eyes. "Sweetheart, you don't need to pose or do anything. You always look amazing when I take your picture." Peter said, his own eyes misty.

"You don't have to lie, Pete." you rebutted. "I just don't really like myself in pictures, especially when I don't have any warning. I can't try and hide the things I don't like about myself." you admitted.

As the words tumbled out of your mouth, Peter swore his heart shattered. Is that really what you thought? That you had to hide parts of yourself from the camera? How could that be when Peter thought you looked perfect in every picture he ever took of you?

"Baby," Peter whispered. "is that really how you feel?"

You shrugged your shoulders in response, already feeling vulnerable. Besides, you weren't positive you could get another word out with falling apart.

"Hey, hey, it's okay you feel that way, but just let me show you how I see you." Peter proposed, running out of the room, calling out behind him that he would be right back. A few moments later, Peter came back into the room, with his laptop in hand.

There was silence in the room, only broken by Peter's typing as he hurried to pull up the files in which all his photography was saved. After a few moments, he gestured for you to join him on the bed, which you reluctantly did so.

"I know you think you need to be perfectly posed to feel worthy in front of the camera, but just look through these." he said before handing his laptop off to you.

Hesitantly, you looked at the screen and saw a picture of yourself. Your first instinct was to cringe at the sight, but with a second glance you noticed how excited you looked. You couldn't exactly place when or where the picture had been taken, but your smile looked genuine, and your eyes shined brightly.

Nervously, you clicked to the next one and saw the same thing. Picture after picture was a candid shot Peter had taken of you while the two of you had been out on dates, sitting around his apartment, or any other moment you shared. Thinking back to the pictures on your phone, you compared your faux poses and smiles to the free and happy expression you had here.

With a watery smile you turned towards Peter. "Is this really how you see me?"

"Of course it is, sweetheart." Peter said. "I know it won't take a day to suddenly see yourself in a new life, but I hope this can be a start because I love you."

"I love you too." you whispered, leaning forward to kiss your boyfriend, rolling your eyes when you heard the click of Peter's phone camera. He was a dork, but he was your dork.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker imagine #tobey!peter parker x reader #tobey!peter x reader #rita writes

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underqualified-human · 11 months

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Tobey Maguire as Peter Parker looks very kissable. I don't know why I just wanna give him a smooch. You know?

#aries rambles #peter parker #tobey!peter parker #tobey!peter x reader #tobey!spiderman #spiderman x reader #spider man #spidey #peter parker x reader

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lovingbradshawafterdark · 2 years

Text

Kinktober 2022 masterlist (discontinued ☹️)

This was very sudden decision but I decided to hopefully commit and do this :) not all this may be top gun so there may be a few surprises :) I’d you would like to be tagged join my taglist! (Also days may change) the first day will be on October 6th and I will add to this list :D

1. Pet play-Bradly Bradshaw x reader (Gn!reader)

2. Bondage-iceman x fem!reader

3. Breeding-Bob x reader (fem/Afab)

4. Pegging-Matt Murdock x fem!reader

5. Aphrodisiac-bradley bradhsaw x reader (fem/Afab)

6. Biting/blood-Vampire!Jake x Vampire!Mav x gn!reader

7. Choking-Matt Murdock x fem!reader

8. Overstimulation-Maverick x reader

9. Mommy/daddy kink-Ethan hunt x reader

10. Camming-cam!girl reader x bradley x Jake

11. Praise-Jake x fem!reader

12. Holding-Matt Murdock x reader

13. Dry humping-Rooster x reader

14. Double penetration hangman x rooster x reader

15. Roleplay Chris knight x reader

16. Dumbifacation iceman x reader

17. Anal sex- Bradley Bradshaw x reader

18. Public play

19. Cock warming-Maverick x reader

20. Spanking

21. Oral sex

22. Period sex

23. Mask kink

24. Wax play

25. Knife play

26. Boot worship

27. Degradation

28. Thigh job

29. Vouyerism

30. Exhibitionism

31. Predator and prey

#top gun #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #bob floyd x reader #tobey!peter x reader #Peter Parker x reader #chris knight x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #top gun fanfic #top gun smut #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #ethan hunt x reader #Ethan hunt

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incorrectanything · 2 years

Text

Peter: Date someone who will drag you outside at 3am to look at the stars.

Y/N: If anyone, and I mean anyone, wakes me up at 3am to go look at the damn sky they will be removed indefinitely from my life.

#marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect spider man #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #incorrect spider man quotes #tom holland #andrew garfield #tobey maguire #tom!peter parker #tom!peter x reader #tom!spiderman #andrew!peter imagine #andrew!peter parker #andrew!spiderman #tobey!peter parker #tobey!spiderman #tobey!peter x reader

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spider-stark · 1 month

Text

INFINITELY YOU

part three // spitfire

WARNINGS - 18+, minors DNI

WORD COUNT - 4.5k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker // tobey!peter = pete

On the walk back from Peter Pan’s, it seemed as though Parker had managed to entirely escape the sputtering awkwardness that had ensnared him the night before.

And, after countless city blocks of listening to him babble about absolutely everything and anything, you realized that there was one very striking similarity between him and Peter.

Both boys had a fervent interest in all things nerd.

“New Hope takes place nearly two decades after the rise of the Galactic Empire, meaning that Leia is only nineteen when she's kidnapped and forced aboard the Death Star! Which is like, absolutely insane, right? Seriously! Imagine being nineteen years old and stuck inside of something that has the potential to obliterate an entire planet!”

Shoving open the lobby door to your complex, Parker hardly even waits for you to hum your agreement before continuing his retelling of the Star Wars film.

“And at the exact same time, Luke is finally beginning his Jedi training! Which, honestly, nineteen is actually super old for that, but-”

Moving towards the stairs, Parker close on your heels, you cut him off with a question. “Too old? Nineteen is hardly even an adult,” you argue. “What age do most Jedi start training?”

“About four or five, so obviously Luke was way behind,”

Not even a full three stairs up, you come to a grinding halt, leaving Parker to bump into your back. “Four?!” You cry out, wide-eyed as you spin around to face him. “That’s insane!”

Parker only lifts his shoulders, clearly not understanding the reason for your horror.

Furthering your point, you add, “There’s nothing ethical about taking a bunch of little kids and training them to be weird, intergalactic warriors!”

“It’s the best way to train them!” He lifts his hand defensively, explaining, “The earlier they start training, the less likely it is that the kids will have formed an attachment to their families! That way they learn to act out of logic instead of emotion!”

For a heartbeat, you’re rendered entirely speechless by the absurdity of his claim, left to stand with your mouth agape as you blink at him.

“That sounds like emotional abuse,” you finally huff, shaking your head. “Actually, scratch that—it doesn’t sound like emotional abuse, it just is!”

“It’s not abuse-”

You hold a hand up, stopping him before he can say anything else. “Give me one good reason why a group of adults should withhold love and affection from children if they aren’t abusing them.”

“Uh, how about the fact that love is basically what made Anakin turn to the dark side!” Parker scoffs, clearly unwilling to recognize how insane the notion he was pushing actually is.

“Or maybe Anakin turned to the dark side because he was indoctrinated and traumatized by some stupid space cult!”

The expression on his face is downright laughable.

It was as if you had just reached out and slapped him across the face. His jaw went slack, his mouth hung open in blatant offense. As a sputtering noise falls from his lips, trying and failing to come up with a good rebuttal, you smirk.

“Exactly,” you boast, taking his inability to speak as a sign of victory.

Twirling on your heel, you continue up the stairs, nearly all the way to the top before you finally hear him come stomping up behind you.

“The Jedi Order is not a cult!” He finally shouts after you.

Already traipsing through the hallway, fiddling with your keys, you sing-song, “Whatever you say, bug-boy.”

Reluctant to admit defeat, Parker continues grumbling under his breath as you unlock the door, spouting something off about your lack of respect for George Lucas.

“Look,” you tell him, pushing the door open, “if liking Star Wars matters this much to you, then I’ll gladly watch them with you.” A wry smile plays on your lips as you turn to look at him, standing in the doorway, “Maybe watching them will be enough to change my opinion on turning kids into galactic slaves.”

Eyes narrowing in a playful glare, he’s only able to hold the expression for less than a few seconds before a laugh causes him to break character. “I just can’t believe that Peter hasn’t made you watch them already,” he admits. “I had you watch them so much that you could probably recite the scripts from memory alone!”

His amusement dies off as soon as he finishes the sentence. Despite having been the one to bring it up, the mention of his world seems to cast a sullen shadow over him, ruining his sweet, boyish smile.

Curiosity instantly claws at you, begging you to ask him why his world seemed to have such a negative effect on him. Or, rather, why his version of you seemed to have such an effect.

This had happened last night too, when you had asked him if the two of you were friends in his world—and it was because of this that you assume that you’re somehow the common denominator in his discomfort.

Still, you don’t let yourself ask him about it. For as much as you’re starting to like Parker, you don’t know him nearly well enough to try prying into his life.

Not yet, at least.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to force me into sitting through them in this world, too.” You tell him sweetly, sweeping an arm out to gesture inside of your apartment, inviting him. “It’s not like I’ve got any plans for the rest of the day.”

You couldn’t even remember the last time you did have plans. Life had been so quiet since that last night with Peter and Mj—the night when everything went so horribly wrong.

Parker sucks in a breath through his teeth, a hand coming to rest against the back of his neck. “I should probably get back out on the streets,” he reluctantly says, sounding more like he was convincing himself of that than you. “But, I don’t know, maybe we can take a rain check on it, yeah?”

Disappointment washes over you, sudden enough that you’re sure it shines through on your face. It takes a shocking amount of willpower to stop yourself from trying to persuade him to stay, wanting to remind him that two other Spider-Men were already running themselves ragged in pursuit of the villains—so why did he have to go, too?

You had grown used to his constant talking, having found solace in the chatter that kept you from slipping too far into your own thoughts. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay so that you wouldn’t have to be alone; so that you wouldn’t have to risk thinking too long about Doctor Strange or the multiverse or constants or Peter.

The thought of admitting any of that out loud, however, felt incredibly humiliating.

“For sure,” you force a smile, trying to ignore the many thoughts swirling in your mind. Then, eyeing the slightly too-tight Ramones shirt that he’d stolen from you, you add, “But shouldn’t you at least come in and change?”

His nose wrinkles slightly as he shakes his head. “Nah—I think this city has more than enough spider-people swinging around it right now. I figure we might actually benefit from one of us patrolling on the ground-level, y’know? Maybe I can ask around for any giant lizards or blown light bulbs.”

It’s hard to tell if the last bit is meant to be a joke or not, but you laugh anyway if only to avoid knowing why you should be worried about lizards and light bulbs.

“Sounds like a plan,” you second his idea. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then?”

A surprising sense of joy lights his eyes at the sound of your hesitance, unfitting of the simplicity of the moment, but charming nonetheless. He grins—a wide and endearing sort of grin—as he takes a step back, “I won’t be gone long,” he promises before reminding you, “lock the door behind you, alright? And if you need anything-”

He pauses, patting the pockets of his jeans only to remember that he didn’t bring a phone with him to this universe—and that, even if he did, there likely wasn’t a wireless plan good enough to support multiversal travel.

“If you need anything, call 911.”

“Got it,” you laugh, watching as he stumbles backwards towards the stairwell, cheeks red with faint embarrassment.

Turning to go inside, you can’t ignore the warmth that now blooms in your chest.

You could definitely get used to having him around.

A peculiar sensation prickles at your skin, curling along your spine like icy fingertips.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

The usually comfortable atmosphere of your apartment had shifted. An eerie tension fills the space, a near-suffocating feeling that has the very walls holding their breath, humming a tune of warning as you inch further into the living room.

Your stomach twists as the sharp tang of exhaust fumes fills your nostrils. By the couch, a faint breeze rustles the curtains of a window, wafting in the nauseating scent of the city street below—a window that hadn’t been open when you left earlier.

A mere foot or so away, you notice that the picture frame Parker had been fiddling with before is now lying on its face, having been knocked off the end table and abandoned. Atop the table, you notice that the lamp is sitting askew, its base just inches from tumbling over the edge and joining the frame.

Someone had come in through your window—and it didn’t appear as though stealth had been very important to them, given that they had clearly stumbled into the table upon their entrance.

Adrenaline floods your senses, your spine stiffening as you take a series of slow, quiet steps.

Moving towards the corner, you carefully reach out a hand to grab the metal bat propped against the wall. The bat had been an unlikely housewarming present from when you first moved in, given to you by Peter’s mentor and your own reluctant renegade, Tony Stark. For nearly two years now it had sat in this corner, unused and gathering dust—until now.

You wrap your fingers tightly around the base, wincing slightly as the rubber grip pulls at the still-healing flesh on your palm, making you curse yourself for not properly bandaging the wound last night.

But you’re used to pain—and so you’re easily able to bite back against it as you ease through the living room, checking for any sign of the intruder's presence.

As you walk, gripping the bat like your life depends on it, you can’t help but hear Tony Stark’s voice echo in your mind.

If you’re gonna live alone, then you should have some sort of protection—he had told you, gently placing the cool steel into your hands for the first time, a ribbon tied sloppily around it—not that you need it.

Satisfied with your search of the living room, you start easing towards the hall. You’re good at sneaking around, having had a lot of practice at it—every movement you make is calculated, every footfall so purposefully gentle that it’s nearly silent.

Quiet as you were, you could do nothing to ease the sound of your blood thrumming wildly in your own ears, your heart pounding against your chest.

The incessant beating worries you—because you know that there are people in the world with the unnatural ability to hear such things. Peter, even with his enhanced hearing, had to be close to someone in order to hear something as soft as their heartbeat; but you had heard rumors that there were others who could hear a pulse from miles away, others like the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

The thought makes your blood run cold, though you try to push the worries from your mind. From what you know, the Devil doesn’t have a habit of breaking into apartments, nor was Queen's his usual jurisdiction.

No—what you were dealing with had to be no more than an average burglar!

An average burglar who, somehow, scaled up the side of a building to break into your apartment…

Alright—you think, approaching the end of the hall—perhaps it’s a not-so-average burglar, then! Still better than the Devil.

Peeling one hand from the bat’s handle, you curl your fingers around the doorknob to the guest room, Parker’s room. You ease the door open slowly, trying to keep the old hinges from crying out as you peer into the space.

The sweet scent of vanilla is the first thing that hits you, contrasted by the subtle bite of vetiver.

Parker—the room smells of him, even though he had only been here for one night.

On the bed, the quilt is rumpled and thrown about, pillows strewn about. The doors of the armoire are wide open, a few old shirts hanging over the edge of one of the shelves, no doubt from when he went digging through your clothes in search of something to wear.

The room was messy, but empty.

Your shoulders sag, half-a-breath loosing from your lungs. The relief is short-lived, however; as by the time you edge back into the hall to turn towards your own door, you’re overwhelmed with dread.

If whoever broke in was still here, then this was the only place they could be—save for the bathroom, though you seriously doubt any burglar would have much interest in scouring through your toiletries…

Easily, gracefully, you twist the knob, the metal yielding quietly to your careful touch.

The curtains are tightly drawn, eradicating any trace of sunlight and leaving the room cloaked in shadows. But, even in the darkness, you’re able to see the rough outline of a figure sprawled out across your mattress.

For a split second, you think of Parker’s advice to call 911, the weight of your phone suddenly heavy in your back pocket.

You think of how you should follow that advice.

You think about how fast you could run—if you would be able to reach the front door before they could catch up to you.

But then you stop thinking, disregarding all logic and reason as you take a step into the room, as if drawn in by some invisible force.

Remaining mindful of your surroundings, you slowly approach the edge of the bed. Squinting in the darkness, you try to study the body laid out atop your comforter. Watching the steady rise-and-fall of their chest, it suddenly hits you that, whoever they are, they’re asleep.

Slinking around the corner and coming to stand at your bedside, you’re finally close enough that you can see them in spite of the absence of light. Crimson and blue spandex clings tightly to their arms as they cling one of your pillows to their chest, and you feel your entire body sag with relief as you loosen your grip on the bat.

So this must be Peter 2.

The fabric of his mask is bunched up and resting along the bridge of his nose, which is somewhat smushed against the pillow he’s holding, no doubt leaving him to breathe in the scent of laundry detergent and your perfume.

Lower, you can make out the subtle contours of his jawline and the curve of soft, pink lips. Higher, you’re met with the impassive stare of then white lenses sewn into his mask.

The lenses shield his eyes from your view, and a curious feeling begins to tug at the furthest corners of your mind. Take it off—it seems to whisper, compelling you to move in closer, your shins pressing against the side of the mattress—take it off.

You grit your teeth and try to ignore the feeling, try to ignore the velvet-voice slithering through your mind; begging you to look at him, to touch him, to notice him, to-

Pain shoots along the side of your temple, likely in response to the sudden tightness in your jaw. It distracts you enough that you’re able to shake the strange feeling long enough to regain your focus—even if the remnants of it still linger.

You shouldn’t be interested in him—you should be pissed at him.

Not only had he broken into your house, which was already bad enough, but he had also climbed into your bed and made himself cozy! The absolute gall, the audacity he must have, has you allowing the tiniest sliver of rage to ignite inside of you.

Both hands still gripping the bat, you lower it from where it rests against your shoulder to swiftly jab its head into his stomach.

A cough sputters past his lips as the impact pushes the air from his lungs.

You’re actually shocked that you landed the blow—in truth, you had expected his spider-sense to kick in and detect the incoming hit, waking him with just enough time to dodge the shot. But, apparently, his instincts had made the mistake of assuming that you were of no threat to him.

“Morning sunshine,” you chime, your feigned cheerfulness set off by a sneer.

He’s scrambling into an upright position, knees sinking into the mattress as he presses a hand against the sore spot you’d created on his stomach. “What the fu-”

His voice is hoarse—from sleep or pain, you’re not sure—and he doesn’t finish the curse spewing from his mouth once his head shoots up towards you, as if finally registering the sound of your voice.

“I don’t know what things are like in your world,” you muse, swinging your bat back to rest against your shoulder, “but in this one, breaking and entering is considered a crime.”

He’s still catching his breath, and while those damn white lenses covering his eyes give so little emotion away, you assume that he’s going to apologize. It’s what Peter would do, and Parker, too.

But not him.

“Your friends said I could stay here,” he defends himself. Taking another deep breath and extinguishing the burning in his lungs, the lower-half of his face transforms into a defiant smirk. “It’s not breaking and entering if you were invited.”

“And did they tell you to sleep in my bed, too?” You shoot back, brows rising in annoyance. “Word of advice: next time you’re invited to stay in a total stranger’s house, maybe try not to repay their kindness by crawling through their window.”

He mocks you without missing a beat, “Word of advice: you live in a shitty neighborhood—if you don’t want people coming through your windows, you should try locking them.”

“Ah, right! Cause the average person is definitely willing to scale the side of a building for the prospect of an unlocked window!”

“You’re a pretty girl in a dangerous city,” he drones, lifting a shoulder as he meets your sarcasm with purposeful calm. “You’d be surprised what people would be willing to do for a chance at getting you alone.”

The insinuation sends a shiver down your spine, but you mask your unease, flashing a smile that’s more predatory than sweet. “Aw,” you coo, “so you think I’m pretty?”

He returns the expression, skillfully avoiding your derisive question. “I think you’re irresponsible—and a little cocky.”

“Better to be cocky than a felon,” you remark. “Just spare my neighbors the acrobatics show next time, would you? Maybe try knocking on the door like a normal person! Preferably when you’re not dressed like… that.”

It’s not that his suit wasn’t nice, because it was. But it lacks the advanced Stark-tech that makes Peter’s suit so uniquely sleek, meaning that it was likely safe to assume that no one in this world would mistake this boy for the real Spider-Man.

Unless they were to catch him scaling up the side of your building…

“I tried knocking.” he sounds exasperated, as if you are testing his patience. “You weren’t home.”

You snort a laugh, wondering if he truly believes that is all the reason he needs to break into someone's home.

“Then you should’ve waited until I got home,”

“I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. I was too tired to wait.”

“Then you should’ve slept in the alleyway with the rest of the strays,” you hiss at him, fingers tightening around the bat as your frustration builds.

The sheer ferocity in your voice gives him pause, stunning him into silence.

Then the corner of his mouth begins to twitch upwards, lazily grinning at you as if he actually enjoys the verbal onslaught.

You can tell that he’s watching you through those white lenses, and his tongue darts over his bottom lip, you feel your breath catch in your throat. “Fine,” amusement dances in his tone as he raises his gloved hands, “fair enough.”

For a moment, no sound comes from your parted lips, leaving you to stand there gaping at him until you remember how to speak. “Fair enough?” You echo, shaking your head slightly. “That’s all you’ve got? No apology?”

He moves, forcing you to take a step back as he shoves his legs over the side of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s not as tall as Parker, but he still stands an inch or so higher than you, making it hard to not feel intimidated as he stares down at you, your own face staring back from the reflection of his lenses.

“Better not push your luck, Spitfire,”

He’s baiting you—he has to be! Using a stupid nickname to get under your skin, to try and prod further at your short temper. And it’s working—god, you hate how much it’s working!—because you find yourself contemplating putting his superhuman durability to the test by whacking him over the head with your bat.

“By the way,” he says before you have a chance to act on your intrusive thoughts, pointing at your hands, “you’re bleeding.”

As if his words switch a flip in your head, you’re suddenly aware of the acute throbbing in your palm. You loosen your grip on the bat, letting it clatter recklessly to the floor as you hold your hand out to examine it.

Unsurprisingly, the rubber handle managed to tear open the barely-healed cut on your palm, courtesy of your too-tight grip on it. You hiss through your teeth, watching as blood oozed from the cut, dripping down towards your wrist.

Slipping past you, the boy only half-manages to stifle his laugh. “You should probably take care of that.”

He’s already slipping out into the hall by the time you regain enough awareness to follow after him, gritting your teeth against the pain.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“To the other room,” he calls over his shoulder. Once he’s standing in front of Parker’s door, he spins back around to face you, his snarky expression still in-tact. “Where I’m hoping you won’t follow me.”

Everything about him causes your blood to boil—his grating voice, his insolent attitude, his stupid soft lips.

“Would it kill you to be nice to me?” You exclaim, your voice strained with pain as you try to wrap your hand in the lower half of your shirt.

It takes no-time for blood to start seeping through the thin material, and you certainly don’t look intimidating like this—the lower half of your abdomen on display as you try to apply whatever pressure you can to the wound—but you don’t care.

“I don’t have to let you and Parker stay in my house—I’m doing it because I’m nice, alright? And, so far, you’ve been nothing but a dick!”

The thin fabric of his mask shifts, brows furrowing at the mention of Parker. Unlike Peter, however, he doesn’t bother commenting on the nickname. “Nice isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe you. Especially since you’re the one calling me names.”

The levity in his tone makes you want to scream—what was his deal?!

You press harder against your bleeding palm, your breathing turning shallow. You’re not sure if it’s frustration or pain or what, but you feel like your head is spinning. “Look, I don’t know you, alright? But this? Isn’t gonna work,” you bark at him, chin lifted defiantly as you stare into his mask, unrelenting. “If you plan on staying in my house, then you’ll get your shit together—got it?”

His head tilts, curiously watching as you continue your frantic speech.

“No crawling in through my windows or sleeping in my bed or smarting shit off! And take off that stupid mask!” You huff, shaking your head. “Or, I don’t know, pull it down the rest of the way! Just do something because you look stupid like that!”

The words are spewing from your mouth like a torrential downpour, fueled by the rage swirling in your stomach and the throbbing in your hand and—

He laughs, a genuine laugh that isn’t born of derision, and you feel your racing thoughts slow to a halt. “You should work on your insults,” reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs his mask off. “Because that was pathetic.”

It’s no longer just your thoughts that have slowed, but the entire world. Everything around you feels like it has come skidding to a stop—leaving you staring up at him like a dumbfounded idiot.

He’s beautiful—a commonality among Peter’s variants, it seems.

He’s smirking, an infuriatingly charming smirk that lets you know he has no intention of listening to your demands for him to silence his quick wit. But you’re not focusing on that—no, you’re focusing on the features that had been hidden from you this whole time; his dark hair, tousled from removing his mask, falls in a chaotic halo around his face, contrasting the vibrance of his eyes.

His eyes.

They leave you breathless, and you hate it. Colored with the deepest cerulean you’ve ever seen, his eyes feel like staring into the depths of a crystalline ocean. You can almost feel yourself getting swept up in their tides, feel them enveloping you in a feeling of familiarity, as if this wasn’t the first time you had been pulled into their ebbing waters.

“Have we–” your mouth has gone dry, your voice cracking. “Have we met before?”

It’s a ridiculous question, and you recognize that even as it’s spilling from your lips. You couldn’t have met him before—not when the two of you weren’t even from the same universe!

He seems to be thinking the same thing, and you’re already preparing to take the full force of whatever smartass comment he’s about to fling at you. “I’ve met you,” he says simply, taking you by surprise. Then he inclines his head towards your still-bleeding hand, “You should patch yourself up before you stain the carpet.”

You look down at your hand, at the hem of your shirt, soaked in blood.

“But just so I know,” you look back up, his body half-turned towards the door, his fingers resting against the knob, “if Peter and Parker are already taken, then who does that make me?”

You have to force yourself to take a breath. “What did I call you in your world?” He’s silent for a moment, staring at the floor and chewing on his lip. Then, pushing the door to Parker’s room—their room—open, he smiles.

“Pete.”

a/n - ayyy, pete's finally here! and, ofc, lots of other little important details sprinkled around as well.

also, i really wanna say thank you to everyone who has been reading and enjoying this story so far! it truly means the world to me to read all of the nice comments and to know that you guys are interested in this story! so, again, thank you 💖 as always, please comment/like/reblog and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

part four, titled "blooms of subterfuge", to be released april 29th

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lotus-n-l0ve · 1 year

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𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐞 || 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : You love rain but rain doesn't love you and you end up having mild fever. But no worries your boyfriend Peter is there to comfort and pamper you.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : Fluff and use of curse word once.

ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʟᴏᴛᴜꜱ : Hey. English is not my first language so sorry for any grammatical mistakes.

MAIN MASTERLIST || MARVEL MASTERLIST

You love rain but rain doesn't love you. But also that had never stop you from enjoying every it rains. Walking on the empty street where no-one in in sight. Cold water droplets soaking on your clothes and skin.

So when it rained yesterday you naturally forgot about everything and just immersing in rain for hours. Much to your boyfriend's displasure because now you are stuck in your bedroom with heavy fever.

Your head aching like you had been struck by a truck. You could barely keep your eyes open. Sliping in-n-out of consciousness. You were only wearing a hoodie of Peter. Your body buried in thick quilt.

The door of your shared bedroom opened. Few moments later you could feel the bed behind you dipping and someone shaking you lightly.

"Y/N, darling wake up. Y/N?"

You just groan before buring yourself deeper into the heavy quilt.

"Come on. Wake up, darling. You have eat something and take your medicines." Peter said before pulling the quilt down to see your face.

Your face was red like a tomato but that didn't stop Peter from admiring you pretty face. The one, he could stare at all day long without ever getting tired.

"I don't want to eat. I'm not hungry." You mumbled still not ready to leave the comfort of the quilt.

Peter chuckled at your acts, "But you have to eat otherwise how will you recover?"

You didn't bother to response. But Peter was also your boyfriend. He knew how to get you to do something. He lied behind you with his hand wrapped around you and his head buried between your neck and shoulder.

Placing a kiss on you neck Peter suggested, "How about you eat your breakfast and take your medicines and we can watch the show you were talking about together?"

This got your attention. You peaked at Peter, "Business Proposal?"

Peter nodded his head in affirmation. You were asking —practically begging Peter watch the show with you but he kept declining, saying that he is not into something like them.

"You will watch Business Proposal with me?"

"Only if you eat your breakfast and take your medicines like a good girl."

"You are the best boyfriend." You jumped on Peter. Your arm wrapping around his neck. Peter held you by your waist pulling you even closer.

That's how you ended up with your head lying on his chest and him on his back leaning on the headboard. Business Proposal playing on his laptop. Peter kept feeding you small morsels of waffle.

"How can he not tell that she is the one who he was on date with? His eyesight is worse than a fifty year old grandpa." You grumbled at the male lead's stupidity. Peter fed you another morsel before you looked up Peter.

"Hey, Pete." You called and in return Peter hummed. So you continued, "You will always recognise me, right?"

Peter looked down at you. Adoration clear in his brown eyes.

"Of course. Even in a room full I'll always recognise you."

You both stared at eachother without saying anything before bursting out in laughter.

"That was cringey as fuck." You hit him on the chest with your palm.

"What? But they say this in movies they always look so cool so I also wanted to try." Peter replied, barely being able to talk.

Both your laugh filling up the room. Your fever and headache long forgotten. But doesn't matter if you laugh about this because you know even if you really are in room filled with people Peter will always recognise you, even if he losses his eyesight.

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nowayhomer · 2 years

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Please, kissing tobey!spider's neck and how he reacts about it 🥰🥰🥰🥰

ahhh !! this is so cute and my first thought was like, he generally keeps himself in a hard shell but the moment just reveals something cute ?? can't explain but i definitely tried to put it in writing what the moment was like.

caught by surprise

Ⅰ. PAIRING tobey!peter x reader

Ⅱ. GENRE fluff, just super cute, peter smiling for once in spider-man history

Ⅲ. NOTES there's no specified pronouns or gender identification so y'all could literally just imagine yourself in any way you want

Ⅳ. WORD COUNT 354

peter was sewing the sleeves of his suit while listening to a physics podcast. you knocked on the door of his apartment, “peter ? can you open the door ? it’s stuck again.” peter got up and tugged on the handle, pulling it off completely. he gave a sheepish grin when he saw you through the hole where the doorknob had once been, staring at him with disbelief. he let you into his very humble abode and webbed the door so no one could peek through it. “what have you been up to ?” “i’ve just been sewing and studying, you know, another regular night for me.” peter sat in his cloven chair that he tried holding together with duct tape. you stood behind him, resting your hands on his shoulders while you watched him work. it was times like these when you admired peter the most and found a practice of studying his habits. it was not lost to you how he licked the corners of his lips in concentration, the way he twirled the needle between his fingers when he paused to listen to a bit of his podcast that caught his attention. your own attention had been directed to his neck. you had kissed every part of his face, never trailing further down until now. peter felt your plush lips against his neck and pulled away quickly, his hairline to his collarbone turning red. “were you not okay with that ? i’m so sorry,” you went to hold his hand. “no, it was nice… you just caught me by surprise and i’m…” he couldn’t pull himself to finish. “you’re what ?” “well, sometimes my spider senses kick in when i'm surprised, so i got surprised when you kissed me and my senses made me ticklish.” you doubled over, clutching your stomach when it hurt from laughing. “aw, the oh, so tough peter parker gets ticklish. you are so adorable.” you pinched his cheeks. peter wrapped his arms around you, planting a kiss on the bridge of your nose before saying, “please keep giving them.”

you had made it a tradition since then to greet him with kisses on his neck, loving his small laughs and cherishing your relationship.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #tobey!peter x reader #tobey!spiderman #tobey!peter parker x reader #tobey maguire x reader #marvel fic #aurigaupdates

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siriuslydaz3d · 2 years

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Just thinking about how nice it would be to spend a day with -insert fictional male-

Like imagine reading or gaming with him. Baking cookies or cakes. Running your fingers through his hair. Drawing with him!!

I would love to just spend a day with -insert fictional male- he's the best boy ever.

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nobody7102 · 1 year

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Kinkmas 2022, Day 5: Public/Semi Public

Pairing: (Tobey) Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, Public/semi public sex, fingering, implied smut

Main Master-List

Kinkmas List

-----

Swinging onto the top of the flatiron building, Y/N ripped off her mask just as Peter landed beside her. “What the fuck Peter?!”

“I know! I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attentio-“ his words died in his throat as he ducked to avoid the web Y/N threw his way before taking off his mask, dropping it onto the ground as he held his hands up “Hey I’m sorry-” he ducked again to avoid a web before grabbing her arm and tugging her to him. “Baby” he cooed his arm wrapping around her waist, his head dipping down to kiss along her neck “I didn’t mean to hit you with the manhole '' he mumbled before nipping at her earlobe.

Closing her eyes, Y/N’s head slightly tilted backwards as her hands flew to hold Peter’s waist “Ahhh- No!” she quickly said, snapping her eyes open, yet her body still pressed into his “I-...I umm...” shaking her head as her hands moved upward to tangles themselves in his hair as his hands slide down to cup her ass “I’m still mad at you” she panted as his lips worked against her neck.

Nodding his head, Peter effortlessly lifted Y/N till her legs were wrapped around his waist. “That’s fine Baby” he hummed before reconnecting his lips to hers, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth as she moaned. Backing the both of them up against the wall of one of the generators, “Have I told you…” he mumbled “how sexy you are… when you yell at me?” he smirked, biting down on her bottom lip as he rolled his hips into her.

“Ah Peter!” she let her head fall back, trying not to buck against him “Pete… we’re in the middle of patr-Oh!” she gasped as his hand traced over her clit through the spandex of her suit. Rocking her hips onto his fingers she felt Peter’s cock grow hard as it pressed against her core “Pete-” she whined “Don’t do this to me now…. We… we still have another hour!” she huffed

“I’m fine with cutting patrol short” he smiled “But-” he pulled his hand away from her clit before planting them on her hips and dragging her over his hard clothed length causing a low moan to get caught in her throat “I can’t wait till we get back to the apartment” his hands trailed up her back till it reached the neckline of her suit, he slowly pulled at the zipper “I’m having you right now”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spider man x reader #spider man #spiderman imagine #spiderman #tobey!peter parker #tobey maguire #tobey maguire x reader #tobey!peter x reader #tobey!spiderman #tobey!peter parker x reader #Tobey!spiderman x reader #nobody's kinkmass #kinkmas 2022 #kinkmas

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soft-for-them · 2 years

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Peter, stay safe. - Peter Parker x plus size reader

Summary: It's been two weeks since Spider-Man told you his name and you're worried because he hasn't been back to the roof.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

Part two of Spider-boy.

A/N: Thanks for liking the first part, hope this part two is ok, it's not proof read yet...

It’s been two weeks since Spider-boy told you his real name and it’s been a week since you’ve last seen him in person on the rooftop.

The name ‘Peter’ crosses you mind every second it can.

When work is quiet or when your eyes close his voice saying his name fills you head like a soothing lullaby that only you can hear making you flush with warmth, you going all soft and smiley.

Your co-works say that you look like a dreamer when you think about him, apparently your eyes go big and an easy-going smile stays on your face for hours.

To think you had to make up the lie that you’re online dating a man named Peter instead of telling them that you're crushing over a literal superhero and all just because you had muttered ‘Peter’ out loud one day whilst you were day dreaming.

Your dreams are filled with him, your mind tries to fill in the gaps of what Peter might look like.

There are too many combinations to think up; blue eyes with bushy eye brows, a hooked nose with black hair, bleached tips with long eyelashes, a scar near his hairline from where he fell off a swing when he was a kid, you think up so many different faces all handsome in your mind but never your Peter.

Sometimes in these dreams you go on walks in the park, maybe you dance out of tune to an old timer’s song that plays over the radio, maybe just maybe you kiss him when he’d talking making him smile with pure joy, his hand cupping your round face as a small laugh escapes the two of you.

But alas your dreams are fleeting and short, all you can remember is a pure smile surrounded by laughter lines and a chin dimple, nothing concrete or relevant to real life.

As of yet you haven’t seen that distinct smile on someone walking the streets of Queens only on Spider-Boy himself. You know that Spider-Man is still Peter but with the growing feeling of something bigger inside your mind and heart, something more alarming, something more than a silly little playground crush, you feel the need to see him without the mask even just once.

Never in your life have you had separation anxiety because of a person, you feel like a cat holding onto to its owner for dear life despite your claws not even being embedded into anything – or anyone- at all.

You feel silly and a bit sad.

A whole week Peter hasn’t been to see you on the roof of the community centre you work at and you’re beginning to worry.

Each descent up those old rickety steps that rise to the roof make your stomach ache and your heart hurt just a tiny bit, each morning more and more headlines about the Amazing Spider-Man fronting the newspapers detailing the near death experiences of your dear friend.

That or the newspapers are hating on Spider-Man, saying he’s a violent nuisance. Honestly, if you ever meet that J.Jonah Jameson in real life you’d give him a piece of your mind!

With all the worry and stress you’re really considering going to the counsellor in the community centre to ask if all these feelings you’re have are normal.

Yeah, sure she’s an underpaid counsellor that the local kids go to talk about feeling nervous at school or to rant about their friends being annoying and not a counsellor that a grown adult can go and confess that they’re in love with a man they’ve never seen the face of before.

Of course if you went to her you’d have to tell her the same bullshit lie you’ve been telling you co-workers because you’re not telling a sixty something year old woman that you have feelings for Spider-Man, she’d surely try and sanction you if you told her the whole truth.

“I’m back.” You dejectedly say to Lisa, a co-worker of yours who’s currently stuffing fruit chunks in her face as she taps away on a keyboard.

You see a cloud of greying fluffy hair poking up from the front desk as you stuff your lunch box in the fridge.

Lisa gives you a warm motherly smile one that says ‘I know what you’ve been up to’ one that makes you want to shout ‘shut up mum!’ despite her not actually saying anything out loud.

She thinks you’ve been on the roof texting Peter for the whole of your break the idea in you co-worker’s brain a stark contrast to what you actually did.

For your lunch break you were just waiting and waiting for Peter to come but he didn’t. Only half a sandwich was eaten for the worry filled up your stomach.

It’s fine though, normally on the days Peter doesn’t swing by you normally put the leftover food in the fridge just in case a hungry teen charges inside in need of some food. Honestly, you’ve been working at the community centre for quite a while and you’re still surprised with how much a teenager can scoff down without them becoming full.

“Not hungry.” Lisa pipes up as she stops typing, her attention fully on you.

“Had a big breakfast.” You half lie.

“It’s that Peter guy isn’t it?” Her words are filled with worry but to you they feel condescending.

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Before you can slump off out the front door Lisa calls out once more.

“Remember tomorrow we have the journalist coming around.”

“Can’t wait.” Sarcasm drips from your lips.

You wave off any more conversation, your feet taking you outside to the small playground filled with children and teenagers. Dodging around the swings, walking past a kid counting to a hundred whilst their friends run and hide, you enter the basketball court.

Hollers and screams of teenagers shouting your name fill your ears as you walk in, familiar faces of the kids your help smiling your way.

Technically it’s your job to help out the children that come by the centre but honestly you’ve walk over to the court just to feel a bit of happiness that the hyper tween always give you, there games always brightening your day.

“Now then-“ your voice croaks just a bit but you already feel better as you’re swarmed by a mass of kids, “What we playing?”

“Bulldog Miss (Y/N)!” a young girl cheers, her wonky pig tails bopping up and down.

“Ok, ok then. We know the rules. No violence on my court.” You call out, knowing full well how an unsupervised game of Bulldog can turn out, “No cheating, no taunting and no sad little faces.“

“That includes you miss.” A teenage boy with a voice too deep for a five foot two middle schooler should have yells.

“I’m all smiles kiddo.” You make an enthusiastic grin that makes the younger kids giggle with glee as you clap your hands together, ready to watch the game play out.

As the game begins, the loud sound of happy kids running about reverberates around the block, one Peter Parker lands on the ledge of roof.

He’s late. He knows he is.

This week alone he hasn’t been able to eat lunch with you.

It’s not like he can control when a villain attacks but they’ve been coming more and more. That paired with his job at the Daily Bugle along with his studies, he’s been rushed off his feet.

Even so, no matter how late he’s been he’s always swung as fast as he could to land on the roof of the community centre just in case you were there waiting for him.

Peter hasn’t really felt this feeling, the feeling of a heavy heart when you’re not there, since MJ and he’s not sure what do.

It’s not like he can tell May or Ben.

As he crouches down on the ledge, his mask still on, he watches as your plush body, that’s just spec of colour from this high up, runs about.

You may be just a spec but you’re a pretty spec of colour to watch.

He concentrates on you. You’re wearing that comfy knitted cardigan that looks nice on you along with a long black flowy skirt that flutters around as you referee the game of Bulldog the kids play.

You look nice, you look more than nice. If Peter wasn’t so late then he’d tell you that, he’d tell you that again and again until you’d playfully push his arm and tell him to ‘stop’ despite wanting to hear more complements from him.

But he has to get back to work soon. He can’t wait on the roof forever.

Peter steps off the ledge back onto the roof ready to swing off into the hustle of Queens but before he can leap off his foot knocks something over.

His eyes look down thinking he’s just kicked a lost football or Frisbee. The foot that hit whatever fell over is raised up so he doesn’t squash what his foot hit.

His bug eyes peer down to see a bright cartoon orange slice along with a plastic straw glued to the side of a small box of orange juice that lays sideways on the roof.

Peter lowers down and picks it up with a timid care.

The small box has writing on it.

‘Peter, stay safe.’ is scrawled over the brand logo, the bold black letters written with a thick permanent marker.

The dimple on his chin appears again under the mask as Peter smiles a wide heartfelt smile.

His heart feels less heavy than before.

#not proof read #peter parker x reader #peter parker x plus size reader #tobey!peter x reader #spiderman x reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader #chubby reader #x chubby reader #tobey maguire peter parker #rami spiderman

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