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mvltisstuff · 7 months

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teenage fever - p.p **

summary: peter helps cool his girl down after she gets in trouble at school

peter parker x reader

smut warning pookies 🤭

“got detention today, don’t have to drive me home :(“

peter saw the text the second it arrived, happy to see y/n’s name flash upon his screen. however, his face matched the emoji she put when he noticed what it said.

“what happened? i’ll pick you up and we can head back together after, okay?”

she left a little thumbs up on the message. “i’ll explain later, i’m just annoyed rn”

so, he waited in the parking lot for her. he never minds waiting for her, especially when it’s as rare as this. she never gets in trouble, she’s always been a good student, so he’s completely lost as to why she’s being punished. he sits in his car on his phone for a bit, still pondering why she may have gotten detention.

he saw her walk out of the back doors of the school, heading toward his car with her bag slung over one shoulder. he could instantly see the frustration on her face, and was ready to listen and be the best boyfriend he could.

she walked up, opening the door and sighing as she sat in the passengers seat. “you’ll never fucking guess.”

“i really don’t think i could,” he replies, looking into her face that almost has a smirk on it.

“my shitty calc teacher, right?”

“mhm, go on.”

“she reported my outfit to the office and gave me a detention for being disrespectful about it. all i said was that my outfit was fine! people wear shit like this all the time, and suddenly it’s a problem when i do it?”

peter realizes that he hasn’t gotten a good look at y/n today. at least he hasn’t seen her around school when they have this schedule. so, he takes his time now to scan the outfit that the math teacher supposedly hated.

her hair was pulled back lightly, a few pieces left out in the front. it shaped her face beautifully, the face peter admires every day. he looked down to her top, it was white with thin straps, the ends almost going into a corset-type of look. her waist was perfectly shaped, the one that peter always runs his hands down when standing beside her. the top pushed her boobs up as well, complimenting her lovely round breasts and cleavage that she showed. her shorts were just under her belly button, the dark blue showing off her hips and the way her thighs looked. he tried to sneak by a peek to her ass, turning peter into a hormonal freshman again. he takes in her entire figure, thinking about all the times he’s touched it, kissed it, pleasured it.

“you good?” y/n asks, her brows furrowing when they notice the blank stare on peters face. “babe, stop staring at my boobs, i’ve had enough of that today.”

“sorry!” he exclaims. “i think your outfits good- or hot- well you always look beautiful no matter what you wear.”

“thanks,” she smiles, seeing through his act. just by the way she looks at him, peter can feel himself getting warmer. every single time she fans her lashes while she looks up at him sends goosebumps down his arms, leading to his crotch as he shuffled uncomfortably in the driver seat. “you’re so funny sometimes.”

“what?” he asks.

“i just turned you on by stepping into this car, peter. don’t act all innocent on me,” she tells him, tilting herself more angled toward him. he notices the way her arms get closer together, pushing her tits together and peter can feel himself getting harder. “wow, maybe my teacher was right. maybe i am too distracting.”

she pulls a grin onto her face, letting her hand rest on his thigh. he shivers lightly, placing his own hand on top of hers. she places a hand on the side of his face, pushing his lips against her own. just by kissing her boyfriend, y/n could almost forget about the trouble she was in. she’d do it all again if it lead her to this, though. his hand brushes against her knuckles, lightly floating her hand over his sweatpants.

they are both fully facing each other, eyes shut as they fall into the others mouth. peter could always make her feel like they were the only people in the world, and no one else mattered.

he could easily taste the flavored gloss she had on, the scent instantly entering his nose as she inches closer to him. his fingers ran over her jaw and over her hair, admiring the silky strands on her head that he loved so much. he wishes the noises she made were louder, so he could hear her little noises perfectly, just the ones that turn him on more. it lasts for minutes, her hands trailing down to his thick biceps from all the crime fighting he did. her touch was always warm besides the cool feeling of her few rings on his skin. he let himself wander down to her waist, caressing the side before landing them onto her hips.

“y/n,” he groans into her mouth, pulling away slowly to lean his head against hers.

“shh,” she cuts him off. “i know what you want.”

“i want you to wear this every day.”

“yeah, yeah,” she mumbles, chuckling at him as he writhes under her touch. one of his hands still remains on her hip as she starts to inch her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. he can feel himself getting antsy for her to touch him, to do anything to him to relieve the pressure in his body.

his wish is her command in an instant, helping him to pull down the sweatpants past his crotch to reveal his boxers underneath. when she peels down the boxers, his hardened dick is immediately in her grasp, her mouth watering just by looking at his. she leaves a soft kiss on his tip, only relieving an gram of tightness through his abdomen.

she wraps her hand around his shaft, starting to pump lightly and gets the sweetest moan from peters lips. she adores seeing him like this, the way he falls into her grasp and lets her please him. “jesus, y/n.”

“i know, baby,” she smiles up at his blushed face while he looks at his favorite sight. she takes her tongue and drags it up the underside of his dick, wrapping her mouth around him and keeping her hands on the end. peters hands fly around the place at the intensity, not knowing where to put them until he places one on y/n’s head and the other on the side of his thigh.

she bobs her head up and down on him, sucking his dick with such ease that it makes him more turned on than he’s ever been. he hates to think of this, but he thinks of her in that class, her perfect body on display for him as the teacher eyes her.

the way his dick throbs and jumps makes her feel the arousal form in her heat, just knowing that she’s completely wet over hearing peters moans for her. she pulls back, letting the saliva form in her mouth before sucking her mouth back onto him. she looks over at his veiny hands clutching the car door, his chest heavily breathing and heart pounding. “y/n, fuck i’m really close.”

she signals to him that he can come by just continuing her motions on him. her extra hand moves down to his balls while she fondles them as he groans out into the thick air of the car. when he finally reaches his orgasm, his cum coats the inside of her mouth, settling in her tongue as she wipes some from her lip. he laughs when he watches her swipe some off her chin and swallow the rest, only finding it hotter as he gets hard again.

once peter catches his breath again, he loops his finger through the belt holes in her shorts, pulling them up toward him and he’s able to see the curve of her ass in them and he watches her thigh swing over him, just remembering all the times he’s been in-between them.

“wait,” he starts. “get these off.” he points to the shorts, helping her peel them off her legs to noticed the lacy pair of panties she had on underneath. he doesn’t bother to take her shirt off, not wanting to waste another moment where he’s not inside of her. “you look so hot today, baby.”

“thanks, peter,” she grins against his lips. “but i can just tell from how hard you are right now.” she grinds herself into his crotch, the fabric of her underwear rubbing against him, making him moan. he reached down, moving her panties to the side and runs his fingers through her warm folds. she pushes her warmth up against his dick, sliding his length through her slick pussy.

“you’re this wet for me already?”

“you’re crazy if you think i haven’t been this wet for you all day.” she whispers into his ear. “honestly, there wasn’t a period today that i didn’t think about you fucking me in this car, peter. even in detention.”

“it’s a good thing mr. stark tinted my windows, can’t see anything in here.”

she continues to rock her hips against him before he reaches underneath them. he shoves two of his fingers into her vagina, craving the taste of her on his tongue. she sighs out at the feeling of him filling her with just two of his fingers, only to be disappointed when he pulls them out again.

he brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers before reaching back down to his own dick, slipping it through her folds before sinking into her pussy.

they moan out simultaneously, instantly feeling somewhat relieved of the horniness they felt early. he still grabs a hold of her waist, helping bounce her up and down on his shaft as he moans out sweet nothings in her ear. “oh my god, y/n, this feels so good.”

she runs her fingers through his hair, ruining the small amount of gel he had applied that morning. his own arms reached around, pulling her into his chest and having her lean against him, his head fully in her soft tits and he was finally in heaven.

he reached another one of his hands down, circling her clit with his thumb and getting closer with the thought of him inside of her. he starts to tease the small nerves, making her moan out and pull him closer against her. “holy shit, peter!”

he starts thrusting up into her, using his lower body to slam into her repeatedly. he admired the way her boobs jiggle to the action of him fucking her. the coil in his stomach only began to tighten more, knowing that his second orgasm was close. he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to contain himself and resist cumming inside her warm pussy, but luckily birth control exists.

“peter, i’m gonna cum,” she announces, feeling his thrusts get choppier inside of her. “fuck, fuck, fuck! peter!” she utters out to each of his last thrusts before feeling his own release warm inside of her. the fireworks inside of her went off, feeling the intense stream of pleasure through her nerves. her heart thumps against her chest as she comes down from the high, peters thrusts only being slow and sensual now.

“god, i’ll never get enough of you.” peter mumbles into her neck, giving it light pecks as they both relax in each others arms.

“thank you,” she says.

“for what?”

“well, first of all for that awesome sex, and second, just for being there. you didn’t have to wait for me.”

“i’m glad i did, trust me. i’ll always wait for you.” he tells her, making a cheesy beam grow on her mouth. “i love you.”

“i love you, too, peter.” she plants one last kiss to his lips before moving back to her own seat.

lil extra smth

when peter and y/n walk in together, he slightly trails behind her, noticing the lightness and excitement in her mood. she walks into the room, the fellow avengers sitting around. sam, bucky, and steve were all playing cards games at the table as nat watched over them. tony sat on the couch, reading over something about him that was released in the news paper.

they hear friday announce that y/n and peter have arrived, and they surely didn’t expect a bubbly y/n in her outfit to come waltzing in. “hi, guys!” she says, looking around and giving them a nice smile as peter walks in, too.

“what’s got her so bubbly today?”

“i got a detention today!” she says, with no apparent upset on her face. “sorry we’re later than normal.” she looks at nat next making eye contact and winking at her as she skips away to her room. peter trails behind, almost shamefully walking away from the rest of them. nat just looks at her drink smirking while it swirls in the cup, knowing exactly what’s got y/n so thrilled. she gives a certain face to everyone else, signaling what went down.

“are you kidding me?” sam complains. “you’re telling me parker got laid today and i didn’t?”

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romanoffshouse · 1 year

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Y/N: I didn't know you speak french.

Natasha: [speaks french]

Y/N: Oh you are so sexy.

Peter: Can you help me. I want to impress someone.

Natasha: sure [speaks french]

Y/N: Seriously, stop it. Or I might jump on you.

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indyanapolis898 · 4 months

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Away

mcu!peter parker x f!reader

Synopsis: Peter wonders why you didn't come over or answer your phone one night, so he decides to talk it out with you in your room.

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

Peter slid the window up quietly, climbing onto the ceiling with grace. Dropping onto the floor, he looked around, seeing the room was void of people- one person in particular. His girlfriend, Y/N L/N, should've been in his room.

"Y/N?" He whispered. No response.

He invited you for dinner with him and May, yet, you weren't there. He dropped his suit and changed into a crewneck and jeans.

"May?"

"Oh! Pete, you're back?" May called out from the other room. Her footsteps approached Peter's door.

"Yup," he pursed his lips into a smile and nodded.

"I didn't hear you come in. I must've been deep into the movie I was watching. It's a really good action movie I think you'd like, Pete."

"Yeah, I'll see it with you another time. Uh, did Y/N happen to come here already?"

May furrowed her brows as if she was thinking. "Mmm, no. She was supposed to for dinner, right?"

"Yeah. Maybe something got in the way. I-I'll call her."

"OK, I'll go start on dinner, though."

Peter shut his door, dialing your number. It rang until it hit your voicemail. That worried the high schooler. You usually answered, especially on a night when you two had plans. Except, that was usually- before the past two weeks. You were becoming late to answering texts and calls, but this was the first time you ditched on plans.

He sat on the edge of his bed, his phone and hands on his lap. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how off you'd been acting.

Did he do something? Did you do something?

Maybe he was overthinking. He probably was.

Peter dialed your number once again, listening to it go to voicemail. He shot you a quick text and decided to let the matter rest until you answered.

He lay on his bed, phone at his side, waiting for a buzz. He'd occasionally hear one, yet it was usually for some dumb app.

After ten minutes of lying and thinking, a few knocks were heard at his room door. Peter shot up, hoping it was you. You had just been late, and your phone was dead on the way to his apartment, right?

He groaned and deflated when he saw it was just Aunt May.

"Wow. You're happy to see me," May said facetiously with a chuckle.

"Sorry," Peter shot a guilty smile. "I was hoping it was Y/N."

"Yeah, that's why I'm knocking. She called me and said she wasn't feeling good. Sorry, hun. Update me on how she feels throughout the week."

"Right," Peter nodded. "I will, thanks, May."

"Dinner's ready if you want it."

"I'm actually not very hungry," Peter looked down to the ground. "I'm gonna sleep... long day at school."

"Yeah, get some sleep, sweetie," May nodded with a knowing look, understanding he was upset about you.

***

Spider-Man peered through the window, sticking to the side of your building. He supposed he was being quite creepy, but he desperately wanted to talk to you.

Your blinds were close except for the kink that had always been there. It was mostly dark in your room except for the faint glow of a phone in your bed. He could see your barely illuminated face.

Peter took a deep breath in and knocked lightly at your window. He could see you look up, slightly startled, until you spotted him at the window.

You looked upset at the sight, reluctantly sliding out of your bed to your window. You unlocked the window, bringing it up.

"Peter!" You hissed in a quieter voice. "What are you doing here?" Your face was red up close, and it looked like you'd been crying.

"I- I mean, you weren't replying to your phone, and you didn't come over, so I-"

"So you came to my apartment while my parents are home, and you're in your suit!" You whisper-yelled.

"Well- I- yes," Peter answered in disappointment and shame.

"Peter, you can't be here. Please go."

Peter's heart broke at that. "W-why? I don't get it... I do my best to be a good boyfriend. I thought I did enough?"

You broke down into silent tears. Peter climbed into the room and pulled you into a hug- you embraced it.

"Please, Y/N/N, tell me what's wrong."

"I just-" You say through tears. "My parents say that you barely spend time with me, and they just talk bad about you, and that hurts. A-and the more I thought about it, the more I realized how busy you always are, and the times you aren't out being Spider-Man, you're thinking about Spider-Man work."

"Oh," Peter breathed out. He pulled his mask off, letting it fall to the floor.

"I'd never agree with any of the bad things they said about you- it's just so hard to have your family bash your boyfriend. Sometimes I wonder if they know best."

"I don't know what they said... but I promise I can do better because you're right, and they're right. I haven't given you my all."

"Don't get me wrong- being Spider-Man is so important, and what you do is incredible. I just can't continue a relationship with two different people- it's taking a toll on me. And as much as it pains me... if we need to break up so you can continue being Spider-Man full time, then it's for the best," you choked up more tears. "But I don't wanna break up, Peter."

Peter felt his throat close up. "I don't wanna break up either. I can't ever quit being Spider-Man, but I can be a better Peter. You deserve more, and I'm so sorry. Give me one more chance, and I promise I'll make more time for you."

You hug him tighter. "I trust you. I don't ever want to guilt you, Peter. I'm sorry for pulling away over the past few weeks. I guess it's just been a lot on my mind."

"It's ok. I should be sorry. And, Y/N/N, if you ever need to tell me something important, I promise you can."

You nod. "I know. I guess I thought you'd be upset if you thought I was trying to make you quit your work or break up."

"I would never think that. We're strong- we can make things work."

You chuckle, breaking away from his embrace to sit on your bed. "I'm exhausted now, but at least I feel better."

"I'm glad I came here. I should go, though."

You yawned. "No, don't go. Will you sleep next to me?"

Peter grinned. "What about your parents?"

"Just sneak out before seven."

"Can do," Peter grinned, slipping under the sheets of your bed- wrapping his arms around you as you both drifted off to sleep, knowing things would be okay.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x fem!reader #mcu peter parker #mcu peter x reader #tom holland #tom holland peter parker #female reader #angst with a happy ending #fanfic #spider man #spiderman #spider-man #x reader #x female reader #peter parker x female reader #marvel mcu #fluff

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bittenbyyou · 10 months

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Pampered

Boyfriend!Peter Parker x Reader

genre: fluff

description: You pamper your boyfriend with skincare after a long day.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Peter knows absolutely nothing about skincare and is so endearing. Fluffy fluff.

a/n: I’m not a skincare expert, but I do love learning about it. And I thought the idea of Peter getting pampered was adorable because he deserves to be taken care of. Please reblog if you enjoyed! :)

You checked the time on your phone, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously. Peter’s nighttime patrols have been getting longer and longer to where he sometimes wouldn’t come home until 2 A.M. Even you, who was a night owl, had your limits.

A subtle squeak soon caught your attention as you whipped your head to look at the window. Sure enough, you saw a red gloved hand slide the window open before the famous Spider-Man crawled through upside-down.

“Hi beautiful,” your boyfriend said from the ceiling. You got up from the bed, hands on your hips.

“You had me worried,” you said, though your light-hearted tone let Peter know you weren’t really upset. With a gentle, muffled thud, he touched down on the floor and swiftly removed his mask.

“I know, I’m sorry. I got caught up with a bank robbery and then there was a fire—”

“A fire?!”

“—and then these thugs tried to rob an old lady. Can you imagine that? But she beat them with her cane like bam! Bam! Bam!” he continued, reenacting the scene for you. “I barely had to do anything. You should’ve seen it!”

The way he talked about crime fighting was incredibly endearing. He was always so passionate and upbeat, like it was his favorite thing in the world because… it was. Along with you of course. And that’s why you fell in love with him. He truly loved what he did. Not many would go through such lengths to protect their city the way Peter did. You could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was meant for this.

“Sounds hilarious,” you said, letting out a giggle. You cupped his face with both hands, inspecting for any blemishes or scars. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m good. Really.” He grabbed your hands and placed a warm kiss on one of them. “Now let’s go to bed. I’m beat.”

“No. You have to brush your teeth and floss.”

He slumped his shoulders. “I’m really tired.”

“Babe, hygiene is important. Plus we gotta do your skincare.”

“It’s too many steps,” he whined.

“I’ll do your skincare for you. But go brush first,” you ordered, pointing to the bathroom. He pressed the black spider emblem on his suit where his chest was, making it expand and fall off his body like a deflated balloon.

“Yes ma’am…” He walked away from you in a sulking, slouching position and you laughed.

“Quit being dramatic.”

“It’s so~ far~.”

“Don’t make me tickle you.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” he exclaimed, running away from you as fast as possible.

Peter took longer than expected because he felt the need to shower once he realized how sweaty he was. The water relaxed him but also made him feel more awake. It was already late in the night (or early in the day), so he didn’t care anymore about sleep.

You waited patiently and patted the mattress when you saw him come back in nothing but his boxers.

“Come on, lie down.” He obeyed and rested his head on the pillow, closing his eyes. “Put this on first.”

Peter opened his eyes to see you dangling the pink headband with a large bow in front of his face. He gave you a “are you serious?” look but put it on anyway, being careful to push all the hair out of his face with it. You tried to refrain from laughing, but failed once he shot you a glare.

“I feel ridiculous.”

“No~, you’re adorable.”

“You’re laughing.”

You pressed your lips together and shook your head. “No, I’m not.”

Peter chuckled and closed his eyes. “Alright. Make me beautiful.”

Deep down, he loved being pampered by you even if he didn’t want to admit it. With everything going on in his life, taking care of his skin was the least of his worries. But you were adamant about it, passionate even, that he had to take care of his skin everyday. You even created a skincare routine for him, which he felt had too many steps (it was three). How you did this for yourself everyday, he had no clue. But he loved how you cared so much for him and these little acts of love made his heart feel warm and fuzzy.

"Did you remember to put on sunscreen this morning?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of playfulness as if you were teasing him.

“Yes,” he answered quite proudly.

“Did you reapply every two hours?”

“... I’m supposed to reapply?”

You grabbed the bottle of micellar water, shaking the bottle before drenching a reusable cotton pad with it. Leaning over, you swiped the pad gently all over Peter’s face. He smiled with his eyes at the cooling sensation.

“Yeah. The SPF doesn’t last all day unless you reapply.”

“But I wear my suit and that shields me from the sun all day,” he said, every word enunciated with the pout of his lips. God, he didn’t understand how cute he was. It took everything in you not to kiss him right now.

“You take off your mask a lot and if you don’t protect your skin, the sun can damage it. Open your eyes.” He obeyed. “Look at how dirty this pad is. The grime and sweat and oils from your day.”

Peter’s eyes widened a bit at the gray pad, still not used to how much dirt he could accumulate in a day. “Wow, that came from my face?”

“Mmhmm.”

“What’s the thing you used?” he asked, pointing to the bottle in your hand.

“Micellar water. It’s like a makeup remover.”

“I’m not wearing makeup.”

“I know. But it takes off the dirt on your face. And the one layer of sunscreen you had,” you said, emphasizing the word “one”. He gave you a cheeky grin.

“Okay, I’ll put on more sunscreen. I promise.” He held out his pinky and you did the same, locking him in on his promise.

“Good. Time for a cleanser.”

“What’s that again?”

You pumped some cleanser into your hands and then added enough water from the bowl you had prepared earlier to lather it. You rubbed your hands together until bubbles had formed.

“It’s like soap but specifically for your face. Close your eyes.”

You rubbed the cleanser over Peter’s face, careful not to touch his eyes or lips. This was one of your favorite parts because you got to admire your handsome boyfriend up close, appreciating every feature.

“So like bar soap?”

“... Please don’t tell me you’ve been using bar soap on your face.”

“I use it everywhere.”

“Everywhere…? So like… your balls?”

“Um… uh… no? That’d be ridiculous,” he said, letting out a nervous laugh. The loud sigh that left your lips let him know he was in for it now.

“Peter, you can’t use the same soap bar for your dick and face!”

“But it’s soap!”

“I… I don’t even know what to say. You’re supposed to be the genius here.”

“... It’s soap.”

“Okay, I’m tabling this. At least you were cleaning your face. From now on, use the cleanser I bought you for your face. It’s a hydrating one because you have dry skin.”

Peter gasped and clutched his chest dramatically like you had just insulted him. “I do not.”

“You don’t even know what that means.”

“I thought you said I have beautiful skin.”

“You do, you donut. You’re lucky it’s so nice even though you don’t take care of it.”

You grabbed the towel you prepared and wiped the suds away, revealing your adorable Peter, who was smiling from your touch.

“Where’s that thing that smells like oranges?”

“Hmm? The cleansing balm? It’s harder to rinse it off if you’re in bed. That’s why I used micellar water today.”

“Aw… but I like the orange one.”

“Then you can do it yourself.”

“No, I’m good,” he said, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes at how childish he could be sometimes, yet you still found him endearing.

“Okay, two more steps.”

“Two?!”

“Babe, I have like six steps in mine. You’re fine.”

“How do you do this everyday?”

“I don’t know. I find it relaxing. Besides, I want to look my age and not age faster because I didn’t take care of myself. Plus skin cancer is scary.”

Peter nodded because that was the first thing you’ve said tonight that he fully comprehended. “What are the last two steps?”

“I’m putting on a serum treatment for you and then a moisturizer to seal everything in.”

“That sounds fancy.”

You grabbed the bottle of serum for his skin needs, taking the dropper it came with and placing a couple drops on the back of your hand. Then you used your ring finger, the gentlest finger, to dab the product all over Peter’s face. He giggled when you touched his neck, the tickling sensation making him squirm.

“Babe,” you scolded playfully. “Stay still.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.” His eyes fluttered open and he watched you work your magic, loving your concentrated expression. To him, you were the most beautiful girl in the world and the way you cared for him made him feel special.

You pumped out a couple squirts of your fancy moisturizer, making sure to tell him it was a fancy moisturizer and he laughed, thanking you for your sacrifice.

“Seriously, this cost me a lot. And I’m using it on your face so… you’re welcome.”

“Thanks. The villains in this city must be so jealous right now,” he teased.

“They should be.” You leaned back and grinned, satisfied with your work. Peter’s face was glowing, the lamp in his room illuminating his face even more. “You look gorgeous.”

Peter took off the pink headband, placing it on his nightstand before pulling you on top of him. “You’re gorgeous.”

You got into a more comfortable position as you straddled him, pecking his lips, cheek, and nose. “I love you.”

“I love you too. But…”

“But?”

“You messed up my skincare. You just transferred so much bacteria onto my clean face.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m serious. This is unprofessional. I want a refund.”

“You’re so ridiculous sometimes, you know that?”

He broke out into another cheeky grin. “You love me though.”

“I don’t know… you don’t want my kisses.” You got off him and laid on your side, pulling the covers over your body.

“No, no, I want them.”

“Good night.”

Peter forced you to turn around, planting a big smooch on your lips. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, holding onto his soft curls as you pulled him closer. As your lips parted from his, you both looked into each other's eyes with a loving gaze, unable to pull away.

“[Y/N]... I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you eat the cleansing balm?”

“Babe, no.”

“But it smells so good.”

“I’m going to bed.”

#peter parker blurb #peter parker #mcu peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x reader #mcu spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker x oc #tom holland peter parker #my writing #pampered

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qsphyxias · 4 months

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idk if your requests are open but i was wondering if you could write a (tom)peter parker x male reader fluff because i really enjoyed the other ones that you have written 🫶🫶🫶🫶 much love

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

synopsis ; peter parker x male! reader

warnings ; male (he/him) reader, cussing, (tom holland) peter parker, established relationship

note ; love me some classic peter parker fanfiction - and thank u for requesting!! not sure how long this has been sitting here for whoops

words ; 0.8k +

"Hey, boyfriend." You snickered, hanging your head over him. Multiple strands of hair followed your sudden movement — blocking your view of him, or rather, his view of you.

He looked up at your face and pushed the strands of your hair to the side of your face without thinking much of it. The smile he beamed right back at you made you feel as if he was trying to move away curtains that revealed a most breathtaking view — you, his wonderful boyfriend.

As cheesy as it sounded, the way you looked at him and leaned down made his mind play one of the most righteous theme songs of the Star Wars trilogy. The feeling of your face against his hand, the desire to just hold you and never let go, the heat of his blood rushing everywhere, it was scary. Peter could hardly think straight when you let a small smile shine through your expression, where was he supposed to look? What was he supposed to touch?

As if on instinct, Peter's hands that were once placed on either side of him on the bed, took action and slid up your waist to gain a little bit more control once he saw you close the distance a bit more by resting on your elbows instead of your palms when hovering over Peter.

His grip caught you by surprise, who knew he could be so initiating?

"Is... Is that okay?" He murmured, watching your expression, terrified he was maybe too assertive this time.

He already went through this struggle with where to touch, back when he thought he only liked girls — but now, it's different. Despite all those experiences, It's like he had to relearn everything about the boyfriend world. It's not the same, because this time, he's the one with the boyfriend, not so much the one having to worry about his role as the only boyfriend in the relationship.

And Peter really doesn't want to fuck it up with his boyfriend.

To his shock and awe, you snorted, dismissing all his worries with one single breath.

"Peter, your heart's made of pure gold, isn't it?" You sighed as you fully relaxed into your new boyfriend's arms, letting your arms slide underneath the small of his back and lock softly.

With your eyes closed, and ear against his heart, Peter could comfortably wear his expression of pure exasperation as he settled into your embrace — not having to worry about you reading his face.

"Uh," Peter leaned his head back against the pillows to think, causing his throat to relax under the pressure of gravity — producing a scratchy tone in his larynx, once could only describe it as infatuation-inducing. "Well, maybe. I mean, I let you be my boyfriend, didn't I? I must be a saint!" He joked, a complete 180 to his previous attitude as he attempted to lighten the heavy romantic tension. A smile adorned his face with ease as he looked down at you for a (hopefully) good reaction.

You opened your eyes to playfully glare at him, "I take back what I said; your heart's made of pure lego — it's completely evident."

Peter feigned offence, "Hey, what makes you say that?" getting a bit more comfortable, he rolled over to face you instead of having to crane his neck down, keeping his hands flush against your back throughout.

"The way your joints click and clack, the way you get all stiff and plastic-like when you get nervous, the way you're practically indestructible — not to mention how much space you allow Lego Star Wars to take up in your heart; there's lots of things, Peter. " You laughed near the end of your mini-speech, fiddling with the the collar of Peter's shirt right in front of your point of view.

"And hey, you're basically built like Lego Batman with those 12-pack abs. Not that I'm complaining..." Peter flushed at the blatant flirt directed at his body.

"I did not come here today to be berated, s/o." Peter chose to ignore the last thing you said, "and I do not get 'plastic-like' when I'm nervous." Peter frowned, to which you chuckled.

"You came here because you missed me, be honest." You corrected.

"Well... Yeah, but you don't have to say it out loud." He mumbled, his shy expression breaking into a grin when he saw you smile first.

"Why not? it's true, isn't it?" You closed the distance between the two of you even more, chest-to-chest, stomach-to-stomach, lips-to....

Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned up to kiss him, shuddering when you felt his hand rub your back with a gentle force, pulling you impossibly closer to him to fully close the distance.

As the two of you kissed, Peter held you close and vowed to himself in his head, to always protect you. Because to protect you, means he'd be protecting precious moments like these.

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keerysfreckles · 5 months

Text

his neighbor — peter parker

pairing: tom!peter x f!reader

summary: after everyone forgot who peter parker is, peter had to move into a new apartment. the only problem with the new apartment is his happy-go-lucky neighbor.

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, maybe a couple curse words, a bit of angst (its sad peter okay!)

—

being the friendly neighborhood spiderman was easy.

being peter parker however, was quite the opposite.

it's been two and a half months since the world had forgotten who peter is. of course they still remember spiderman, but that didn't make peter feel any better. he misses his best friend. he misses his girlfriend. he misses the avengers. most of all, he misses his aunt may. her death hit him the hardest after the events with the other peters.

going into his empty apartment every night, being met with his bed and bare cupboards didn't exactly lift his spirits.

don't even get peter started about his neighbor across the hall. she always left her apartment when he did, and would be the first to start a conversation. tonight was no different.

"hey peter," y/n smiles towards her neighbor, before turning her key to unlock her front door.

all peter does is send a nod back, making y/n's smile falter slightly. "how was your day?" y/n asks.

"fine," peter grumbles after finally unlocking his door, and he slams it in y/n's face. the action makes the girl jump, even though this wasn't their first interaction like this.

as y/n made her way through her apartment she thought to herself, what could she have done to make peter so upset at her. she's been nothing but nice to him since he moved in a few months ago.

she even gave him a batch of chocolate chip cookies in one of her favorite containers when he first moved in. she still hasn't gotten that container back.

y/n finally drops the topic of her neighbor from her head after sitting on her bed with her favorite series displayed across her tv.

across the hall peter could barely feel his feet. his college classes seemed to last even longer than normal today. but to make his day even better he missed the train after his final class. so the thirty minute walk back to his apartment was really the icing on the cake.

he flung himself onto his twin bed and let out a sigh he knew he was holding in all day.

—

the following day was no different for peter. well, except he forgot to unlock his window before he left for his heroic duties.

peter punched the brick wall outside his window, as he clung to it with his other hand and feet. he absolutely didn't have the patience for the mishap. reluctantly, peter swung down the side of the building and was lucky to find his dark blue backpack he keeps hidden away under unused trashcans. he slips the outfit on that was inside the backpack before walking into the lobby of his apartment complex.

peter was so wrong when he thought his neighbor would've been in her apartment at this time of night.

yet here she was, with a grocery bag in hand and a key in the other.

"hi peter," y/n smiled again. her smile faltered before peter could even get a response out. "peter what happened?" she was quick to notice the black and blue mark starting to form around his eye, and the dark red blood splayed across his knuckles.

"it's nothing," peter simply responds.

"peter obviously it's not nothing. do you need help? anything?"

peter turns to y/n, and for the first time since he moved in, he actually looked her in the eyes. they were a different color than he thought they'd be, and he noticed how sincere she actually sounded about wanting to help.

peter hasn't been helped in a long time.

all he does is nod, since he's too scared to speak as his voice might fail him, and tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

peter unlocks his door and hears y/n's footsteps behind him. the girl takes a look around his apartment. the layout is similar to her own. the small kitchen in the corner when you walk in, with an even smaller living room, and barely a bedroom off to the side. the walls were painted a dark blue color, different than original color peter was first met with.

y/n followed peter to his bedroom, where he layed down and let out a hiss, as his back came into contact with his bed.

"where do you keep a first aid kit?" y/n asks, and follows peter's direction as he's pointing to the small bathroom connected to his room. y/n comes back quickly with the first aid kit, open, in hand. "can i?" y/n motions toward the kitchen, in need of water and paper towels. peter simply nods.

less than a minute passes until y/n's back in peter's bedroom, with all the supplies layed out on his bed.

"what hurts?" y/n asks.

"uh- my eye obviously," peter lets out a small chuckle, "my hands and my back."

y/n grabs the liquid ice pack from the first aid kit and is quick to get it in the freezer for peter's eye. she holds out her hand in return for peter's own. she tries her best to be gentle about getting the dried blood off his fingers, noticing the small noises peter lets out due to his pain. y/n can't help but apologize over and over whenever she hears peter's groans.

once y/n's satisfied with how peter's hands looked, she steps back into the kitchen for the ice pack. before stepping back into peter's room, y/n's eyes fell on an all too familiar pink container on peter's counter. her heart warmed seeing it was empty. so he did enjoy the cookies.

no words were spoken as she hands it to peter, before he carefully puts it over his left undereye.

"you uh-" y/n stammers, "you're gonna have to take your shirt off so i can get to your back."

"oh, right," peter remembers. he takes off his stretched out high school t-shirt and throws it somewhere in his room. y/n takes in the gash on his upper back, and the other scars littering his pale skin.

"what happened?" y/n finally asks, now curious to how peter got all these injuries. the new ones and old.

"it's nothing," peter responds, which only gets a small sigh from y/n. she didn't expect a proper answer from him, so she simply went back to making the boy feel better.

just like with his knuckles, she was quick to wipe the dried blood off his skin. which once again resulted in a few muttered curses leave peter's lips, and many apologies by y/n followed after.

as y/n started placing the gauze and tape over the open wound, both y/n and peter could feel the air in the room becoming thicker. y/n brushed off the feeling after running her fingers over the last piece of tape.

"all done," she smiles softly. "how's your eye?"

peter lifts the ice pack off his skin, and the swelling was surely going down. y/n was now sat in front of peter on his bed while running her thumb gently along the bruise. this time peter doesn't flinch from the pain, but from the contact from his neighbor.

"why have you always been so nice to me? when i've been nothing but a dick to you?" peter asks, his voice soft from the close proximity of the two.

"my mom always said to treat people how you'd want to be treated, since you never know what situation they're in," y/n replies, her eyes never leaving peter's.

"my aunt always said stuff like that," peter responded, his voice getting even softer than before.

"i like the way she thinks," y/n smiles.

a moment of silence pssses between the two. "i'm sorry i've been nothing but mean to you," peter breaks the silence.

y/n shakes her head and her eyesbrows furrow, "you have nothing to be sorry about peter."

peter sighs and nods, yet he doesn't believe y/n's words. "are you okay here on your own for a bit?" y/n removes her hand from peter's cheek before standing up from the bed.

peter nods, "yeah, i'll uh come over if i need anything."

for the first time since peter's moved in, he smiled at y/n. y/n could've sworn her heart was going to leap out of her chest right then and there. ignoring the feeling, she simply leaned down and kissed the boy's forehead.

"bye pete," she sent a smile back, before walking out of his apartment and went inside hers.

peter layed back on the bed, and for the first time in almost three months, he had a real smile on his face.

all from his neighbor.

#peter parker #tom holland peter parker #tom holland #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #mcu peter parker #marvel #mcu #tom holland peter parker imagine #peter parker imagine #tom holland peter parker x reader #tom holland peter parker x you #tom holland peter parker x y/n

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devilfic · 4 months

Text

❝small favor❞

V. the christmas special.

parts: previously / next plot: it's the most beautiful time of the year. pairing: mcu!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: christmas shenanigans, alcohol mentions, harry gets drunk for norman osborn related reasons, peter is a little ball of anxiety because he likes you, can I share with you what jobs I think ned and mj got after graduation. words: 8.4k.

a/n: this was gonna be a two-parter but I thought. no. so instead it's just super long :D

Peter has started visiting more.

There were the surprise visits on weekends. Something was just too important to wait a week, and too important to give you a call, and you liked that he made a note of bringing you food for the trouble. Then he was popping in on Wednesday nights—sometimes Friday mornings—because he'd forgotten to tell you this or he just couldn't wait to tell you that.

And he has texting you more, too. Not super serious things either, and after a few days of it, you had worked the fight or flight reaction to his ringtone out of your system. At some point, you had started feeling like this was becoming... a genuine friendship.

"I mean... I... yeah. We talked about it, didn't we?" Peter stops pouring, brownie batter dribbling off the lip of the bowl, "Friends. I- I think of you as a friend. If you think of me... as a friend."

You gnaw on your pen as you study him. It's another weekend surprise visit, and this time he's brought you boxed brookie batter as an olive branch. You'd actually been busy this time, and so you'd put him to work baking it while you made your vacation list, "It's just... crazy. I mean, we went from being strangers to only seeing each other once a week—purely professionally—and now you bake me things. And we hang out."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing! It's just weird," he continues to pour as you talk, "I used to see you as this unattainable hero. I couldn't believe you trusted me, felt comfortable enough to tell me your name, to care enough that even EDITH knows who I am. And now we're friends."

Peter's nose scrunches at that, and you've never wished more than now that you could see the rest of his face. He starts placing balls of cookie dough in the batter, "You talk about me like I'm Beyoncé or something."

"You're the Beyoncé of superheroes."

"Hey, that is not true. That title goes to Captain Marvel."

"Not to me."

"Well, of course not to you. You're my biggest fan."

"Wow, demoted to a fan already."

Peter slides the pan into the oven, "You know what I mean. You're biased."

"You're starting to sound like Jameson now."

He kicks the oven door closed and hops up onto the kitchen counter next to you, nudging your knee with his knee, "Oh, you haven't heard my Jameson impression. Watch this." Peter clears his throat, clenches his fist, and shakes it in the air, "Spider-Man is a menace and should be charged with domestic terrorism!"

You giggle, "Do more."

"5G isn't giving your kids cancer, it's Spider-Man leaving his webs all over the city!"

"More!"

"Spider-Man is laying eggs in our city's sewers so that one day, all his freaky spider children will rise up and take over New York!"

"Please, keep going."

Peter groans. You see his head tilt toward the notepad in your lap, "How's the vacation going? Or vacation planning, I guess."

You sigh. Your list to pack kept getting longer, and yet, anytime you tried to focus on what to bring, you would just remember something else you needed to do before leaving New York. "How do you think, based on my utter lack of excitement?"

Peter raises a brow, "Whaaat? You're not excited for Miami?"

"I was, but... everything in the world is happening at the same time. Jameson wants me to get two more articles out before I leave and my family wanted me in Florida three days ago. At this rate, I'm just barely going to make it there before Christmas. Not to mention..." You trail off as you look to Peter, whose mask eyes have gone comically wide in interest, "I don't want to leave you all alone."

"You know I've been Spider-Manning since I was like, 14, right?"

"Well, yeah, but- wait, 14?" Peter grimaces. You gloss over it before he can worry himself about it, "Anyway, I just worry. I mean, with Fisk turning the PR tide and God knows what he's planning, I don't wanna just fly to the other side of the country. It feels wrong."

Peter smirks, "Nah, nah. It's fine. I can take care of myself."

"Don't make me remind you about how all of this," you gesture between Peter and the oven, "started." He looks away from you, sheepish. "You know what I mean, right? Maybe I'm overestimating my worth to you, but-"

"You're definitely not. You have no idea how much you mean to me." That stuns you. It stuns both of you, clearly, if Peter's frantic peek at your face was anything to go by. His mouth gapes like a fish out of water for a moment, "I just mean that... you've made being Spidey... easier on me. It's nice knowing someone's actually on my side in this city. So yeah, it will feel really weird without you being just a swing away."

"You can still call, Peter. I won't mind."

"And when your family asks who's bothering you while you're sunbathing on the beach?"

"I mean, my little cousins will be impressed if I name drop Spider-Man."

He smiles. He kicks his feet out, heels bumping the cabinet doors beneath you while silence settles. You take this chance to examine a slight fraying on the fabric of his suit, a hole beginning to form on his upper thigh that you could just fit your pinky through. You remembered a time when his suit was made out of sweatpants and a dream.

He was 14 when he first started all of this. When you were 14, you were stressing over high school essays and alien invasions. You couldn't help but think that maybe he'd lost his youth to this thing. This thing that brought you together.

Spider-Man who, back then, was really a kid. He'd had to grow into it. You couldn't imagine having to grow into that. "Well, that's enough about my holiday plans. What about you?" Peter prepares to answer, then deflates. "What's up?"

He bites his bottom lip, "I don't... have any."

Your heart sinks, "What? Why not?"

"No, no, it's fine. I'll probably be out on patrol making sure everybody else is having a safe, criminal-free winter break."

Sliding off the counter, you come to stand in front of Peter with your arms folded, "Absolutely not."

"Okay, before you say anything-"

"It's Christmas, Peter! You're supposed to take time off! Be with friends and family. If you never take a break, you'll wear yourself out."

"Just hear me out-"

"No! I won't have it. You're not the only hero in New York. You're taking Christmas off. I don't care if I have to stuff you in a carry-on and take you with me but you will not be working-"

One hand clamps around the back of your head and the other silences you, turning your complaints into mush, "If you would let me finish..." you huff indignantly against his hand, "you'd know that a friend of mine is throwing a Christmas party and I was invited. There. I have plans."

Your face softens. "Really?" You ask, but the sound is muffled and it comes out more like, "Will-ee?"

Peter laughs, hand slipping from your mouth, "Really. I'll at least take a few hours off. Maybe more if I fall into a food coma."

Peter's other hand is still cradling your head, but you don't bring it to his attention. "You promise? I won't have to fly back early and check up on you, will I? 'Cause I'll do it."

"I wouldn't stop you." You glower, making Peter's mask eyes squint with amusement, "I promise."

"Sometimes I think you like making me worry over you."

"Would you believe me if I said that I'm just this awful all the time?"

"Yes, but that would make me worry even more."

The hand at your neck gently curls around the side of your throat, Peter's thumb angling your chin up to his own. The brush of it makes you tremble just slightly.

Was he trying to make you dissolve into a puddle?

"I'll be okay. Just... come back to the city, will ya? Don't fall in love with Miami."

You place one of your hands over the hand on your throat. The other hovers somewhere near his knee on the countertop, unsure of yourself. When you admire his exposed mouth, you think of Peter. Parker.

You remember you hadn't actually talked about that since it happened. It was Peter's intention to skirt around Parker, regardless of how certain you were that they were the same person. It was all in jest, sure, but some small part of you (some incredibly small, minuscule, microscopic part of you) wondered if your reporter brain just fit the two pieces together because it wanted them to fit.

Perhaps he wasn't Peter Parker. Perhaps this really was all a coincidence, and perhaps aliens didn't fall from the sky and gods didn't save the world.

You wouldn't push him on it. You wouldn't look into it either, because reporter brain be damned. You cared more about the Peter you knew than the Peter you didn't.

You smile up at him, "How could I? Miami doesn't have you."

"Nice to see you could finally make it, kiddo." Jillian is grinning at you when you arrive, her baby tucked at her hip and her wife entertaining the little monster over her shoulder. She sees the winded look on your face and immediately motions you over, pressing a hand to your cheek, "Did you crawl out of a snowdrift? You're freezing!"

You lean into it, chasing the warmth in hopes that it would restore some feeling to your skin, "The storm's getting awful out there."

"Came outta nowhere, didn't it?" Jillian's wife snorts, booping the baby's nose. "We almost didn't risk coming with the little one, it was so bad."

Said little one looks perfectly warm wrapped up in her blanket, an envious sight as you shiver and shuck off your coat to hang. You would offer the kid a boop on the nose yourself, but with your fingers frozen solid around your offering—a plate of sugar cookies—you don't want to make her cry. You give her a smile instead.

"Oh, and would you believe it?" Jillian whispers, sidling up to you, primed for gossip, "We've got a real treat here tonight. Take a wild guess who decided to show up."

"Jonah's wife?"

Jillian cackles, "God no. The stalker."

As soon as she says the name, your eyes zero in on him.

He's wearing that plaid shirt again, but the collar and cuffs are all that peek out from underneath a wrinkly blue sweater. His hair is free and gelled back, revealing his nervous expression more clearly. Nursing a cup of apple cider, he just barely looks like he wants to be here. But then he catches your eye across the room.

And he waves.

"Oh my," Jillian teases, "you must've left quite the impression if he came all this way just to see you."

"He did not come just to see me." You reply in a hushed tone, but she laughs at you all the same.

"Sure. And that's not him heading over right now, even though he's been hugging the wall all night."

You jerk your head to where Parker was standing, and, sure enough, he's pursuing you.

You part from Jillian before she can get the chance to embarrass you (she accepts your cookies as payment), and so you all but jog to meet him halfway.

He doesn't get the chance to be polite before you're interrogating him, "Where did you go?"

"Uh... What?"

"At the gala. When I ran back inside the ballroom, I couldn't find you anywhere."

Peter's eyes slowly widen, "You went back inside?"

"Answer the question, please."

"Wh- I... I was there. You didn't see me?"

"No, I didn't."

"It got crazy after Fisk rushed the stage. I got swept up in the crowd. You must've missed me."

"Really? 'Cause I was with the crowd, you know. In front of the building? Where Fisk was giving his big speech about how he saved the day? I didn't see you anywhere."

Peter blinks, then gasps as if he'd just remembered something important, "You know what? That's right. I went to go find Harry. I wanted to make sure he was alright, and then I couldn't find you in the crowd so I just assumed... I'm sorry for leaving you back there all alone." You watch as he fumbles for something convincing, "I texted Spider-Man about it, though. He said you were safe."

You fold your arms, "...Is that all he said about me?"

"Well, that. And something about your conspiracy theory?"

"Conspiracy theory."

The topic change gets some of the tension in Peter's shoulders melting away, replaced with a smile faint enough to not pass as overtly smug. He waits for one of your co-workers to move out of earshot before continuing, "You think... I'm Spider-Man."

Your jaw tightens. You know that anyone would draw the same conclusions you did after that night. You also know that no matter how logical your reasoning is, you sound highly illogical when you admit to it out loud. If you brought up the same accusation to Jillian or Jameson, they'd both laugh you out of the office.

You have to stand your ground, though. If there was one thing you were learning about Peter, it was that he was easy to fluster, "And if I do?"

"I'm flattered, really, but I don't really have the hand-eye coordination."

You know it's bullshit. He should know you know it's bullshit. If it hadn't been for his quick thinking, you and Harry would've been trampled under the masses at the gala. It's bullshit and he's waiting for his checkmate that will never come.

You do not give it a second thought. You toss your phone at Peter's head.

And he catches it. Of course he does. He stops it mere inches from his face.

If anyone saw you try to give him a concussion, they don't come over to question you on it. "Can you..." Peter starts after a breath, a bit dazed, "...can you stop trying to hit me?"

You go to defend yourself because, at the very least, you hadn't meant to try to punch Peter—which meant it didn't count—when someone barrels right into you.

And, to prove you right twice in a row, Peter is quick to catch you. He scoops you up into his arms before you end up a reporter pancake on the floor. One of your co-workers, already blitzed off spiked eggnog, had bumped you on their way to the drinks table for what looked like the umpteenth time tonight, and didn't have enough marbles to apologize before bumping someone else.

Peter is careful in how he holds you. There's that unmistakable strength behind his grip, but also... he was gentle. He felt safe.

You don't make to escape just yet, all your bravado knocked right out of you. "Jesus, you okay?" His eyes dart over to your co-worker and a scowl turns his expression sour, "Jonah should put a cap on the drinks."

You feel more than embarrassed stumbling to your feet, even more so when Peter still coddles you after you're standing upright. "I'm fine. Thanks." Peter's looking at you, brows drawn together, with so much concern it makes that second thought from earlier come in hot with a sizable topping of shame, "Talk about instant karma."

Then it's gone. Peter laughs and... it sounds just like your Peter. Undeniably. You can't help but give in. For a fleeting moment, the question of secret identities has melted away and it's just the two of you, giggling about something silly.

You're ashamed enough to apologize for throwing your phone at his head when the laughter dies down. You succeed in stealing it back and lead him over to the windows, far away from any more drunken disasters, "It's alright. I've had worse thrown at me before."

You raise an eyebrow, "Oh? Like what?"

His voice catches in his throat at first, "A... carton of expired milk. High school bully, Flash Thompson. We were both on the same academic decathlon team but he never gave up on his dream of professional baseball."

"Flash Thompson? You mean, Silicon Valley, MIT grad, tech startup millionaire Flash Thompson?"

Peter winces, "The one and only."

You frown at the distant look on Peter's face, aware of some regret there at the mention of Flash. "You and Harry went to ESU together, right? Is that where you always wanted to go?"

Peter shakes his head, but a smile comes to his face regardless, "MIT was my first choice, actually. But... even with a scholarship, I just couldn't imagine leaving New York behind. So I stayed. Went to ESU. Helped my Aunt May with the mortgage on her first house since my... my uncle passed. And now I'm selling pictures of Spider-Man to pay my rent."

You can't help the way you soften. "I'm so sorry about your uncle, Peter. Your Aunt May is lucky to have you around."

His eyelids flutter closed for a breath, and his smile grows wider. If it were even possible. "I'm lucky to have her."

You stand there together in silence after that, but it feels more comfortable than before. All the scrutiny and speculation you'd come in with had faded away, and now you were left wondering more about Peter. His hopes, his dreams, his life before all of this. What would it have been like if he'd gone to MIT? Where would you be? Or Spider-Man?

Peter's eyes peel open, "So, what about you?"

"Oh. Well, I took a shine to my school newspaper. After... everything in 2012, I knew the world would never be the same. So I had dreams of becoming a journalist, covering the street, being the first on the scene. Took my ass to college on part-time jobs and a dream, and interned at nearly every newspaper in the city before Jameson gave me a shot here. As much as I can't stand the way he talks about Spidey... he's not that bad of a guy. All things considered."

Peter agrees, "He did hire you, so..."

"Yeah, well," you lean your cheek against the window, glass cooling your blush, "At least Spidey doesn't hold it against me... but, I have to ask: why the Bugle? I mean, with photos like yours, you should be fighting off every publication in the city. Instead you turn in these... absolute masterpieces, freelancing, for a guy who can't even give you due credit, and you only stop by for a paycheck."

Peter looks to the window, the wind howling over a crooner's cover of Santa Baby. The storm was still raging on outside, and you dreaded the thought of having to walk through it to get back home. The taxis wouldn't have much luck either from the looks of it. "I... like my job, but it's not what I wanna do forever. I don't care about fame or Pulitzer prizes. It's always been about taking care of me and my Aunt May, and Jameson is a lot of things but he's always understood that. He pays me enough that I can have a place of my own and a little leftover for my aunt, and he doesn't ask questions.

"I don't need to be seen. And that's the whole point, isn't it?" His expression gradually warms as he recalls something, "It's not who's behind the lens that matters, but who's in front of it."

Your expression warms too, "I can see why Spidey likes you."

A notification disturbs the moment. Raising a finger at Peter, you check the latest notification... and your stomach drops.

Peter takes a step forward, sensing the change in atmosphere, "What? What is it?"

"My flight's been cancelled. I was leaving tomorrow for Miami but the storm..."

"Oh. Man, I'm sorry."

"I should've left sooner, I should've left when my family..." You lose the motivation to even finish your sentence, feeling exhausted all at once, "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm stuck here for Christmas."

Peter stuffs his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet as he searches for something to say. You're about to tell him not to worry about it when he speaks up, "You know," he starts, the uncertainty in his voice giving you pause, "it's no... Miami, but my aunt throws this Christmas party every year? For Christmas Eve. We invite a few friends over for dinner. She'd love it if you came."

"Oh, Peter, that's sweet but... I don't really want to intrude on a friend thing-"

"No, no, it's okay! Anyone can come. It'll just be my aunt, some of her co-workers from F.E.A.S.T., a few of my friends, my ex-girlfriend-"

"Your- what?"

"Oh. Well, I mean, we were friends before we dated. Well... technically? She sort of just... hung around me and Ned in high school and then we started dating for a while but then we broke up in university. But we stayed friends. Became better friends, actually. So, she's my ex but also a really good friend. I promise it's not weird or anything. She's super cool about it. And I am too! Her name's MJ. I think you'll like her."

You stare at Peter. You think you see a bead of sweat twinkle on his forehead underneath the Christmas lights above.

He insists that you're welcome to come, and staying home alone for Christmas would be pretty hypocritical after your argument with Spider-Man.

Spider-Man.

"...and Spider-Man will be there."

Spider-Man?

You abruptly lock eyes with Peter. "Spider-Man?"

Peter's smile is tight-lipped, "Yeah." His voice cracks. "I mean, he's just stopping by real quick, but I invited him. He might not come. But... he also might."

Was this the friend of his throwing a Christmas party? Why in the world would Peter (Parker) invite you to the same party Spider-Man would be at, unless he could stand in the same room as him at the exact same time? There'd be no other way to convince you otherwise, and you'd be forced to accept that they really were two completely different people.

Yeah, right.

You'd go to this party and suss it out for yourself.

And it wouldn't hurt, would it? Peter was nice, if not the most awkward person you've ever met. To offer you a place at his aunt's Christmas dinner not long after hurling an object at his head was a sign of true Christmas spirit. You could learn a thing or two from him, "Okay. You've convinced me. What's your number? You can text me the address."

Peter blanks for a moment, "Um... yeah, um..." You watch him flounder, growing increasingly suspicious, "Can I see your phone?"

You drop your phone in his hand. His fingers move quickly across the keyboard before returning it to you. Peter Parker is now in your contacts. You check the number against Spidey's but there isn't a match. "Thanks," you glance at his wobbly smile, "I sent you a text."

Peter gestures behind him, "Oh, cool, awesome. Will you excuse me for a sec? I gotta use the restroom." And he doesn't wait for you to affirm before he's rushing down the hall and out of sight.

A full minute passes before you receive a text back from Peter.

15 Amfan Ave Forest Hills, NY 11375 7pm :) Hope you can make it! He never shuts up about you *I *shut

Hm.

So... I hear you're throwing things at people now Who told you that? You lose one phone, then you try to bludgeon an innocent man with another. I should lock you up and throw away the key I wasn't trying to bludgeon him, because I knew he'd be perfectly *fine*. And he helped me prove a point Which was... That the chances of him being you are more likely than either of you would have me to believe Could it be that you just have a thing for attractive, masked men? That is That is irrelevant to the conversation HA you so do Literally nothing to do with anything I just said It's okay. The mask makes it really easy to project one's ideal man onto me. Or so I've learned through Twitter I'm not projecting *anything* onto you Do you picture Ryan Reynolds when you talk to me? It's okay if you do Peter, shut up Maybe someone more boyish like Timothy chalet Timothee Chalet Timothee Chalamett I'd say you just like hearing yourself talk but this is a textual conversation I like that we can talk like this :) I like it too :) What about Tom Holland? We've got the same jaw If you think me accusing you of being Parker is me projecting a handsome man onto you, I can only assume you think he's hot. Which means I can assume you have a thing for him. Because I can also make things up Like Batman and Clark Kent? Are you saying Parker is the Clark Kent in our fictional relationship? More like Superman and Jimmy Olsen And you're my Lois Lane? ... Goodnight, Peter

Aunt May's home is beautiful. There's a lovingly sculpted garden out front that has since given into the snow, but you can tell it's a sight in the spring. For now, the Christmas garland lining the doorframe—wrapped in a rope of rainbow lights—brightens up the porch. As does the collection of little striped sweater-wearing gnomes gathered around the front door.

There's a commotion of voices behind it as you approach. You shift your plate into one hand, pressing the doorbell with the other, and the voices get louder. You swallow down your nerves when the door is ripped open by a stranger.

The stranger in question is staring out into the dark at you like they weren't expecting you. Your eyes quickly dart to the plaque beside the door and see a bold "15" emblazoned there. Nope. This is the house.

Their eyes zero in on the plate in your hand. Smiling, they open the door wide and step back, "Sweet! Peter said you'd bring dessert."

You kick the snow off your boots before stepping inside. The stranger shuts the door behind you before any more of the cold could get in. "It's peppermint bark," you explain, returning a smile of your own, "but I hear May's making a cake."

"May and Peter. May's great with everything but the oven- don't tell her I said that. I'm Ned, by the way." Ned holds his hand out for a shake.

Ned is really talkative, you find out. He holds your peppermint bark as you undo your boots and coat at the door, rattling off about how Peter and he had been friends at Midtown. He tells you about his job as a cybersecurity specialist, a job he'd naturally floated toward after graduating from MIT, and how he'd stayed with the Parkers for a few months after moving back to New York. It's how he knows that the downstairs bathroom door won't close unless you lift up when you shut it. You only remember about half of what he says by the time you get to the living room.

There are considerably fewer people than you expected, one of which makes his way over the minute you catch his eye.

"Hey," Harry grins. Unlike the nice suit he'd worn to the gala, he's dressed down in jeans and an ugly sweater with "I've been naughty" printed in big letters across the front, looking a lot less tense than when you'd first seen him, "Fancy seeing you here."

"I could say the same." You can't help but ask, "Don't the Osborns host Christmas Eve at Oscorp tower every year?"

Harry's good mood fizzles out right before your eyes. You feel pretty awful about it. "Uh, yeah. Norman does. But it's more business than anything, so I dipped. I'd rather be here watching Pete fuck up a perfectly good cake."

"I heard that!" Peter's voice calls from a room away.

Harry's good mood returns, "Well, it's good to see you at the annual Parker holiday celebration. And I'll forgive you for poking into my family business if you hand over those treats."

Bashful, you let Ned pass the plate into your hands before passing it to Harry, "Sorry. Reporter brain."

Harry's nose scrunches up, "Don't apologize. Unless these taste like ass."

"I promise they taste better than ass."

"Good enough," he backs away, turning his head to shout down the hall, "Peter! Get in here already!"

When the redhead is immersed in a game of UNO, you turn to Ned, "And that doesn't... feel weird? Having Harry Osborn at family dinner?"

"There are weirder things about Peter. Speak of the devil."

The ugly sweater is the first thing you notice. A companion to Harry's, it is nearly the exact same design, except for the "I've been nice" where the "I've been naughty" had been. He's dusting his hands of something when he comes around the corner. His eyes soften when he sees you with Ned, "Hey, you came." He says in a much too gentle voice. Harry and his opponents nearly drown him out with their cheers and boos.

Unlike at the office party, you notice, Peter's hair isn't tamed by hat nor hair gel. Instead, it curls incessantly around his flushed cheeks. He looked like a damn Keebler elf. It was frustratingly adorable. "Of course. I heard there'd be cake."

"How is that cake, Peter?" Ned pulls on a piece of the ugly sweater as he walks by, and you realize that some of the red had been singed. You follow Peter's frantic gaze from the hole to you.

"This was unrelated to the cake."

"You burned something else?"

"No! One of the stockings fell into the fireplace and I-" Peter trails off as you begin to smile, "you don't get to laugh at me if you didn't bring sweets."

"I did! Harry stole them." You nod over to the coffee table where the group is devouring your peppermint bark with reckless abandon. At least you knew they didn't taste like ass. Peter rushes over to steal the plate before they could polish off the last handful, much to their protest.

"Dinner's almost ready, I swear. You've met Ned, uh, Harry..." Peter scans the group, using his free hand to point out people, "...that's Yolanda, Katie, Lexie, Eduardo: all May's friends. May's in the kitchen but I'd stay out of her way until the ham comes out unharmed."

You notice that out of everyone gathered in the house, he does not mention his ex-girlfriend. "And MJ?"

You wait for an answer. Instead, something heavy shakes the house from above. It doesn't sound like it came from outside, but rather somewhere in the house. Not quite above your head. Weirdly enough, only you seem to be concerned about it.

Peter just glances at the ceiling, "And MJ."

MJ is tossing an empty storage bin to the side when you crawl up through the floor behind Peter. She's crouched on the balls of her feet, shoulders slouched, the sharp bones of her back poking through her tight graphic tee. Her head snaps toward you both when she hears you grunt up the last rung of the ladder. Her eyes narrow on you, then Peter, "I can't find it."

Peter offers you a hand to hoist you further into the attic, "Did you check the-"

"Yes. And I checked the one next to it. And the one next to that."

You look at Peter for an explanation, but he doesn't provide you with one. He walks over to where MJ has now fallen back on her ass, rifling through one of the bins. His mouth twists to the side. "Maybe she meant the box next to her old CDs?"

"There's like 15 boxes in here, Peter."

Off to the side of the room, where MJ was currently facing the mysterious dilemma, were about nine—not 15—storage bins in disarray. Two were off to the side, emptied of their contents: there were piles of men's clothes, women's clothes, baby blankets, and more. The third box that MJ was poring over had Halloween decorations in it.

"Well, you're getting close." Peter encourages.

The way MJ grumbles resentfully has you squirming. As time ticked on, your presence unannounced, you were starting to feel like an intruder. You clear your throat and MJ looks over at you for the second time, "Maybe I could help?" You offer.

At this, MJ brightens. "Finally! Someone cares about my plight. I don't know you, do I?"

You crawl over to where MJ is sitting and Peter gestures to you, "MJ, I told you about the reporter from the Bugle, right?" You give your name for good measure, and MJ's eyebrows raise. She gives a quick, indecipherable look to Peter. He returns it. Then she examines you.

After a moment, she dusts her hand off on her khakis and holds it out for you to shake, "Michelle Jones. Call me MJ." You repeat her nickname warmly. "Peter never shuts up about you."

Peter chokes on his spit.

"He... he does?"

MJ continues shaking your hand for longer than necessary, smiling secretively now, "Oh, yeah. He's got your blog bookmarked too. Post notifs for your Twitter, the works." You cut your eyes to Peter, appalled that he'd ratted you out to someone else, but MJ is quick, "I figured it out on my own ages ago."

"Is it really that obvious it's me?"

"No." And she smiles wider.

Peter is about to cut in with something when a woman's voice rings out, shrill and clear despite two layers of flooring in between you. He's needed with the ham. He looks between you and MJ, reluctant, "Look, if you can't find it-"

"We will." MJ's reply is confident, leaving no room for failure. You feel a little pressure applied to "we".

Peter nods. He mouths an apology at you and skitters out of the attic.

Left alone with MJ, you notice that she is staring at you now. You feel like you've been left alone with an oracle, prepared for your innermost being to be laid bare before you: past, present, and future. She looks like the type to know what makes people tick.

"What are you looking for?" You try to break the silence, though your voice comes out meeker than you'd have liked.

She doesn't look away from you as her fingers grip the container in between her legs, "Uncle Ben's favorite Christmas sweater. All I know is it has a reindeer holding a beer on the front."

Reinbeer. You almost laugh at it. You imagine it would tickle an uncle pink too. "Then I'll get to looking."

You've only just crawled over to a bin of your own when MJ asks you outright, "You like Peter, right?"

Your hand stills as it pries the top off. You feel her eyes burning into your back. "He's... nice, yeah."

You can hear how unimpressed she is with that, "I don't know if it's obvious, but Peter isn't exactly popular." You think that's kind of a cruel thing to say about someone you consider a friend, but MJ keeps going, "All he had was Ned back at Midtown. And me, eventually. I've known him since high school and he's made maybe a handful of friends, maybe less. The last time he invited someone new to Christmas dinner was Harry."

And that had been at least a few years, judging by how long Harry had been away at Oxford.

But why was she telling you this?

"He likes you." You yelp when you realize MJ's voice has gotten close. You turn, and she's kneeling behind you with no interest in your fear. "But do you like him?"

In her hands is a faded, toy Iron Man mask. "I... I think he's nice. I mean kind," you correct yourself when MJ frowns, "but I... I don't really know him. I mean, I don't think I do. I've only actually spoken to him twice and one of those times, there was a gun involved. Everything I know about him is through his pictures and Spidey, and I trust Spidey. So, I trust Peter."

"And Spider-Man?"

"What?"

"Do you like Spider-Man?"

You swallow. Like didn't really sum up how you felt about him. He was a hero, an inspiration, a friend, and also... yeah, you felt something more there too.

You think about why she would ask. Why it would have anything to do with you liking Peter or not. You look at her and it feels like she hasn't really asked you that different of a question at all. Your answer is much more definitive this time, "I do. I like him more than I know what to do with."

MJ leans back on her haunches. She appraises you, "He's pretty great, isn't he?" Her tone is considerably softer.

"Yeah. He really is." You smile.

MJ hands the mask to you and you take it, admiring the chips in its paint and the lovingly worn edges. She scoots between you and the bin you'd been looking into and pops the lid off. Almost immediately, she swears in relief. Sitting folded on top is the most gaudy sweater you've ever seen. A deformed reindeer is embroidered on the front, and sure enough, holds a can of beer in its hoof. When MJ shakes it out, little specks of dust fly everywhere.

This, too, she hands to you. You look at her in bewilderment. "You'll wanna make a good first impression with May," she advises, "just be prepared for the water works."

And there are water works.

May throws her arms around your neck and just about sobs her thanks to you, squishing the sweater between your chests. You note that she smells like candy canes. When she draws back, her glasses are all askew, "And I'm so glad you could make it! Peter wouldn't shut up about you. Isn't that right, Petey?"

Peter's eye twitches. "I'm gonna set the table. Ned, you wanna set the table?" And he scoots past you and May without waiting for a response.

"Don't mind him, he gets testy when he's cooking. Did Petey give you the tour?" You shake your head and May kisses her teeth in Peter's direction, "Okay, this is the kitchen, around the corner here is the dining room. You've seen the living room and the attic. The bathroom is by the front door, and the bedrooms are upstairs. If someone's in the bathroom down here, do not use the bathroom by the stairs. That's Ned's favorite when he gets bubbly guts, and he will get bubbly guts."

Ned complains under his breath as he walks by.

"If you need somewhere to get away from the festivities for a bit, backyard's that way and my room's upstairs, first door to the left. All good?" She pets your shoulder. Then, she looks down at the sweater still in your hands and takes it from you, tenderly. "I'm gonna go change into this and then dinner is served. Help yourself to anything, okay?"

May leaves you in the kitchen with that. Around the corner, Peter and Ned are fussing over where to put the ham and sides. Around the other corner, Harry is drunkenly singing Christmas carols with Yolanda. MJ watches on from the corner of the room, recording on her phone. She catches your eye and mouths, "For blackmail."

You peek into the dining room and Peter is worrying over one of the chairs. You can hear Ned scold him, "Sit next to them. You don't wanna talk over the ham. It'll kill the mood."

"But how do I... subtly get them to sit in this chair and not next to MJ or something?"

"Tell MJ not to sit next to them."

"But what if-" You jolt a little when Peter suddenly spots you eavesdropping. He straightens up with a death grip on the chair he'd been messing with, "Hey! Hi. This is your chair by the way." And he tops it all off with a smile.

It's warm in May's home.

You don't even register the cold at first. You do register Harry's frenzy, the way he grabs far more napkins than he needs to, pressing them to your stomach where the majority of his spilled drink had gone. When you finally do comprehend what just happened, you place your hands over his, "How long have you been plotting your revenge?"

Harry is red-faced. He lets you hold the napkins there while May rushes to find a towel, "Sorry. I wasn't looking where I was- sorry."

You don't get to dwell on the déjà vu of it all. May is ushering you up the stairs with a beach towel pressed to your front, muttering about how she'll have to put Harry on ginger ale for the rest of the night. She guides you into what you're certain is Peter's old bedroom.

It's been cleaned out, and most of his personal belongings must be at his own place, but there are still old posters on the wall, and a calendar dated in April, two years ago. His bed is ruffled like he'd slept overnight. It's neat, and looks like it usually is neat, but there are traces of him everywhere, like picture frames with Peter and May and a man you don't recognize.

"Peter probably has something here you can wear. It's all stuff from college." She digs through the top drawer of his dresser, finally stopping on a sweatshirt with Empire State University in college block across the chest. "Here! You think this'll fit?"

She stretches it out and you nod, thankful, "Yeah, thank you so much, May."

She smiles, "Okay. Bathroom's across the hall if you need to wash off. I can run your shirt through a wash while you're here if you'd like. Just let me know, okay?"

May is, perhaps, the sweetest woman on earth. She leaves you with a thumbs up and shuts the door behind you, reminding you to lock it after she leaves.

Your shirt had absorbed most of the drink, and you're relatively unscathed besides some sticky residue. You wipe at your stomach with the towel she'd given you and slip Peter's sweater on. It feels... odd, wearing it. It smells like May's house with little traces of Peter.

Your eyes drift back to the picture frames.

One such frame sits on top of the dresser, a photo of Peter and the man who you assume is Uncle Ben. He holds Peter in a headlock but they're both smiling at the camera. You smile too, tracing a finger around the wooden edges.

Another picture is of Peter and MJ and Ned, standing outside of MIT with their fingers pointing at the school. Another is of Peter and MJ sharing cotton candy at Coney. Another is of Peter as a little boy, with two people flanking his side that you do not know. You realize you'd never asked about Peter's parents.

There are other photos of him around that age with May and Ben, and as you piece together what feels like an undoubtedly tragic story, you catch something outside the window.

A person. Hanging onto the side of the house.

Your heart hammers in your chest as a hand pushes the window up, and then, "Did I scare you?" Spider-Man perches on the sill with what you can imagine is a shit-eating grin.

You stomp over to the window and shove at his shoulder, but he doesn't budge in the slightest, "You almost gave me a heart attack! Were you watching me get dressed?"

The mask's eyes blow open, "What? No! I swear I just got here."

"Do you ever use the front door?"

"Not if I can help it," he crawls in, staying planted by the window, "don't tell me you're snooping through Parker's things."

"I was just... looking. At the pictures. And Harry Osborn spilled his drink all over me so I had to borrow Parker's shirt."

"Hm. ESU looks good on you."

You look up at Peter, who keeps his hands tucked behind his back, leaning against the wall by the window. "Aren't you gonna say hi to the party? Make Parker look cool?"

"Eventually. Maybe. Might just watch from afar."

"No, nuh-uh. You said you had holiday plans and that you were going to a party. That doesn't count if you're watching from afar."

Peter's head sways to the side, "I never said this was the party I was going to."

"Is there another?"

"Well... maybe. Maybe not."

"Peter-" You whine, but he cuts you off.

"I'm not a party guy! Sue me."

"Well, then Parker's got you beat two for two. Unless you're lying, since I haven't given up on my conspiracy theory."

Peter presses himself off the wall, sauntering toward you in a zig-zag. Your eyes follow him, back and forth, back and forth, until he's a step or two away. His hand reaches out to play with one of your sleeves, its seams resewn with mismatched thread, "Leaving a party as Peter Parker to come back as Spider-Man. Give Parker some credit. That's the kind of plan you come up with in high school."

You shrug, trying not to act like Peter playing with your sleeve wasn't giving you goosebumps. "You never know."

Peter nods, "Yeah, you're right. I mean, he was really excited to see you."

"Oh yeah?" You swallow.

"Yeah. Was kind of pathetic, actually."

Peter shoots a web at the ceiling and twists, catching the web between his feet so he could hang upside down. The suddenness makes you stumble back with a breathless laugh, "That's not a very nice thing to say about a friend."

"Weren't you the one who said he'd be shaking and crying if you yelled at him?"

You sigh, "I was... I was teasing you."

"Because I'm Peter Parker."

He says it matter of fact. You stare at him, "Yeah," you whisper, "that's right."

He pulls himself up the web until he's face to face with you, "Then that wouldn't be very nice to say to a friend, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't. If you were Peter Parker, I guess I'd have to apologize to you."

"Yeah? How?"

You breathe deep. Everyone is still laughing downstairs. You become hyper-aware of the fact that you hadn't locked the door. At any moment, someone could walk in and...

Peter waits, curious.

Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw, pressing into the fabric of his mask, feeling over the ridges where black lines broke red. You know what you want to do. And you also know that there is no going back if you do it.

Your fingers reach the place where the mask meets the rest of his suit. Hooking two fingers under the fabric, you pull.

Your fingernails trace over the curve of his Adam's apple as it bobs, over the jut of his chin. Peter's breath is heaving. One of his hands releases its grip on the web and you see it glide toward yours out of the corner of your eye. You just feel the skin of his bottom lip under your finger when you realize how this might look. What he might think you're trying to do.

Mask in hand, questions of his identity hanging in the air, your curiosity and his vulnerability. You release the mask, awash with worry. You want to get it out before there's any misunderstanding, but as your hand drifts back to yourself, his catches it. You would give anything to know what he's thinking right now.

Peter lets your fingers fall. Silently, he drags the mask over the tip of his nose and leaves it resting there. An invitation. "I trust you." He promises. And kisses you.

He has to stretch a little to reach you. You understand this and press closer, taking the back of his head in your hands and holding it steady for you, but you know you're trembling. You curse yourself for how much your body reacts to this, how uncool you must look, how you shake with all the excitement and terror of this. You kiss him and feel silly about how you claimed to know his lips so well before now. That was nothing.

This is everything. So many things. Each time you go back in for more, you lock away some new little detail about him.

Peter places a hand against your neck and tugs you even closer, but the momentum makes him swing a little bit so his nose bumps your chin. You're too stiff to laugh, but he does, "Sorry," his voice is raspy, "this looked cooler in my head."

You lean into him, dizzied, "Was this... did you plan for me to kiss you? When you got up there?"

"I've wanted to kiss you plenty of ways." Peter's admission is followed by a sigh. He presses a hand to your chest and nudges you back a step before he's dropping to his feet and advancing upon you once more, bumping you against the dresser as the picture frames rattle. Your fingers sneak under his mask at the back of his head so they can sink into his silky hair.

He probably kisses you a hundred more times after that. Every kiss you think might be the last, but then you feel a tug in your chest and go in for one more. An itch that no scratch can soothe.

Peter's mask starts to slip and you feel one of his hands leave your waist to fix it, but the warmth your fingers had snuggled into disappears and-

You keep your eyes screwed shut, "Peter." You gasp against his mouth. Your fingers twitch in his hair, finding no resistance.

"It's okay," he nudges your nose with his, still pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth, "it's okay."

"But-"

"Don't you wanna know if you were right?"

You squeak when his lips find the underside of your jaw, "I don't need- you don't need to-"

"You're always right," Peter interrupts you, kissing down your neck, "I was never fooling you. You're so smart, you know that?"

"Peter." You say his name with no real plans for it to do anything, letting your head fall back.

"Please." He says back. Urging.

You lift your head, heart hammering away, and meet the eyes of Peter Parker.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @bi-andready-tocry @thescarletfang @spider-biter @hufflepuff-n-fluff @daydreamdrive05 @mentalidrainedfangirl @gwennesy

#peter parker x reader #peter parker scenarios #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman scenarios #spiderman fic #spiderman fluff #tom holland peter parker #marvel #mjwrites #if you see any mistakes in this no u didn't #this has gone through a few revisions and uh. i'm sleeby

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fbfh · 7 months

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TW for sexy slapping, general rough stuff, and degrading. as with all nsfw works all characters are aged up to 18+

biiiiiiiiitch I just got the most visceral image of Peter Parker fucking begging. thrown onto the bed panting and heavy breathing and whimpering for you to do something to him. anything. ideally something rough. he probably broke into your place as spiderman late at night to come see you, but it was dark and you couldn't tell who he was so in a panic you slapped him across the face and cussed him out. you know what this motherfucker did? he moaned. you stop in your tracks because of course you recognize that sound, you've made Peter make that sound enough to pick it out of a line up. you freeze half way through calling him various mean names and turn on a light. he pulls off his mask and he looks so flushed and descheveled and his hair is all rumpled. you're about to apologize for the pink mark developing on his cheek but before you can, he starts begging you to do it again. one look down at the insane boner he's incapable of hiding in that skin tight suit brings you right up to speed.

"Please please please, you can do whatever you want to me, you- you can call me more mean names, just please, don't stop..."

suffice it to say neither of you got anymore sleep at all that night, and that was the night you discovered Peter really likes rough sex.

#drabbles #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker drabbles #peter parker #tom holland peter parker #marvel #marvel drabbles #marvel smut #mcu #mcu drabbles #mcu smut #tw slapping #tw degradation #sub peter parker #SUB PETER PARKER!!!!!!!! MY FAVORITE #he's so babygirl

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bradtomlovesya · 1 year

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Perfectly Wrong

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You realize you were always his second option.

Warnings: ANGST!, Bad ending, Idiot Peter, mentions of alcohol, mentions of being drunk.

W/c: 1.2k+

"You don't understand. You just don't get it, y/n" Peter denies looking at the floor.

"What don't I understand?" you ask with tear-filled eyes. "Why is it so hard for you to explain things to me, Peter?"

"Because even if I explained it to you, you wouldn't understand." He denies again. "Not like her."

"Not like her?" Your heart hurts just hearing it. It's true that Peter is drunk, but it doesn't mean his words hurt you any less.

"You're never going to understand it like she did." Peter takes another sip of his beer. He had started drinking since he heard that his ex-girlfriend from high school, MJ, was getting married.

But you didn't know that.

"You're drunk. It's not the best time to talk," you hold back your tears as best you can and try to take the beer from his hands.

"No! Leave the fucking beer there" he exclaims and wipes his nose.

You had been dating for a year. However, Peter never got over his ex. Not really.

"This isn't you, Peter. You're not being yourself" you beg him to stop. You love him so much that you beg him to shut the fuck up and let you stay in the fairy tale in your head where you're the only one he loves.

"This is the only way I can be honest. Without this-" he lifts the beer. "I'm a fucking coward." He laughs sarcastically.

"Stop, please stop," you beg. This isn't him, this is just the alcohol speaking for him. You try to remind yourself.

"She's getting married, dammit!" He throws the beer against the wall making you jump.

Inhale. Exhale.

"She's going to marry someone else because I never told her who I was. Because I never made her remember me," he sobs.

"Who are you talking about, Peter?" your vision blurs with tears. He's clearly talking about another woman but you don't know who.

"She would have understood by now." he looks at you with disappointment. "Why can't you be smart like her?" he mutters.

The words cut like knives. They are darts thrown straight at your heart.

"I'm sorry" you wipe away your tears and feel yourself trembling. Not from fear, but from anxiety.

"MJ, my ex-girlfriend is marrying some random asshole." He gets up to get another beer. "And it's all my fault."

"Peter, your words are hurting me," you admit. You want him to stop. You really want him to stop. He was never like that.

"Hurting you? I'm the one who's hurting!" Hiccups. "The love of my life is marrying someone else!" He walks to the door. "I need some fresh air."

'The love of my life' you thought you were the love of his life. Whatever it is you don't want to go down without a fight.

"Wait! Tell me what can I do to make you stay. What can I say so that you won't leave. I need to know how to fix this!" You exclaim.

Strange Peter turns and stares at you with wild eyes.

"There's nothing you can do, y/n. Like I said before, you're not her. You're never going to be her and I want to die at the thought of it." He tenses his jaw and mumbles. He looks like a real psycho.

"This isn't about me. It's not about us. It's about you and I don't want you to do something stupid that you're going to regret." You try to reason with the stranger in front of you. Now you understand why Peter didn't like to drink alcohol.

"Oh, trust me. I'm already regretting it" he nods and presses his hands against his red eyes.

"We were fine, Peter" you reason crying your eyes out. "Everything was fine" your head is racing. "Why is this happening?" you feel the air rushing out of you.

The pressure in your chest becomes too much, you find it hard to breathe, your vision is blurred and you squat down with tears in your eyes and your hand pressed against your chest trying to calm down even though you feel like you are dying.

That's when Peter understands and stops, you are having a panic attack.

He slowly approaches you as if testing the waters and kneels down in front of you to help you breathe. Apparently the consequences of his actions threw him into an immediate wave of sobriety.

"Breathe in. Breathe out with me," he murmurs with his hand on your back.

Even though you want to pull away because he hurt you, you don't. You can't. His body heat feels good and slowly you feel yourself recovering.

"I didn't even know there was anyone else, Peter," you murmur between sobs as your breathing calms. "If I had known I wouldn't have let myself fall in love with you," you confront him. How could he do this?

"I shouldn't have drunk. I turn into someone else when I do, I'm sorry," he says honestly, but for you it's too late. Parker broke you from the inside out.

"I'm sorry the love of your life is getting married. Even though I thought I was the love of your life." You look at him sadly. You don't know what to do. You just know that staying hurts more than leaving so you get up.

"Y/n I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I blew up and I shouldn't have done it, I- I don't know what came over me." He speaks. The remorse in his voice is more than noticeable. "Don't go, we can fix it," he tries to speak even though he knows is too late. He's screwed up.

"You gave me a lot of things Peter... although those things were thorns when you promised roses" you walk away slowly. You try to work up the courage to leave him.

"Wait wait wait. What I said doesn't mean anything."

"It was all a lie" you stare at the floor. Emotions subside, reason appears. "You never loved me" you deny. "My God, it was all a farce. I want it to stop" you cover your eyes with your hands wishing that if this is a nightmare, you wake up now. But you don't, 'Cause what is happening is happening in real life.

"Stop it. It's not true," Peter denies. "You know I do love you. I-" he pauses to think about his words. "It's the alcohol's fault. This isn't me, you know me y/n" he struggles as a drowning man moves his hands and legs to save himself.

"You were only with me because you couldn't be with her, Parker!". You scream in frustration. The truth is like a bath of ice water. "I was your second choice all this time. And why? You were lonely? You didn't want to wake up in an empty bed? WHY?!" you scream. "Why?" You scream again.

"I thought I was ready for a new relationship. I waited years to date someone else after her." clarifies Peter. "I just have these feelings sometimes and I can't control it."

"You don't have to control them from now on. You're on your own, Benjamin" you wipe away your tears and shake your head. "I deserve better" you nod "I hope you get over her and can move on with your life" you walk away.

"And what about what we promised?" He asks. He is desperate for you not to leave.

"It went all to trash when you decided to love two people at the same time" you talk without looking at him. "Don't look for someone else until you are ready, Peter" you glare at him. "You don't get how much it hurts".

And just like that, the front door closes. You're gone.

|°|°|°|°|°|°|

Peter Parker tags:

@raajali3 @fangirling-galore @powerpuffluuvv @itszulli @hallecarey1 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @kaitieskidmore1 @lnmp89 @pure-a-tea @vixparker @army24--7 @spiderydreams00 @my-name-duh @nani-2305 @Mochimms @ietss @prancerrparkerr @Lynnzilla3000 @hpsgirlrw @Lynnzilla3000 @hollandweather

#tom holland #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker au #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #tom holland peter parker #spiderman tom holland #spiderman x reader #spiderman angst #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fic #spiderman #tom holland angst #peter parker angst #angst #angst with bad ending #tom holland fanfiction

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tomholland1996simp · 2 years

Text

Video game || Peter Parker

Summary: Peter is your best friend, you go to his house after an argument with your parents. However he’s playing video games so you decided to sit in his lap. He realises your sad and turns off the game to comfort you.

Today just wasn’t the day, school was tough as it is and now your shouting back at your parents. You don’t really know what caused the fight between them, they always find ways to argue with each other. All you was trying to do is defuse the fight between them both.

Being the only child really sucks when they argue as you are always in the middle of it trying to calm them down. The most annoying thing is, is that after an argument the next day they acted like nothing happened. They would be cuddling on the sofa acting happy and not the toxic couple they was the night before. And this really made you mad.

Now your mum is shouting at you telling you not to get involved even though she’s the one that had called you down to interfere with it. You was just sitting in your bedroom catching up with your homework when she shouted, “Y/N COME DOWN!” That’s when you came running down the stairs.

You knew what was going to happen, in the end you would be the bad person to trying to find peace. You didn’t think arguments nor violence was the way to sort problems or issues.

“I don’t care y/n, you told me the other day you thought the same!” Your mum shouted trying to get you on her side when really you wasn’t on any. She lied, you never thought the same as her, you didn’t say anything. She just wanted you and her to gang up on your dad.

“Don’t try turn my daughter against me you bitch” Your dad shouted in your mums face as you stood between them, scared if anything happened. You were pleading them to stop, tears falling down your cheeks. That’s when your mum tried to slap your dad in the face but ended up hitting you. It has happened many times, this time it hurting really bad.

“ouch! I SAID STOP! LOOK IM THE ONE GETTING HURT NOW! JUST FUCKING SHUT UP!” You scream a sob, walking pass them to get your shoes on. You really had enough, your tired and just wanted sleep. Now you couldn’t.

“Where are you going? y/n i’m sorry” Your mum grabbed your arm trying to stop you from walking out the door.

You just shrugged her off, grabbing your keys and phone slamming the door behind you. Ignoring her shouts and calls for you to come back. It was dark outside and chilly. Queens wasn’t very safe to be travelling outside at this time of the night, however you didn’t really care. You just needed to see one person and one person only……Peter.

…………………………….

You arrived at his apartment fifteen minutes later, May letting you in straight away. You smiled at her before slowly walking into Peters room, his door being open a tiny bit. There sat your best friend of four years with his headset on and a controller in his hands. His fingers aggressively pressing the buttons.

You shut his door quietly the sound making his head turn to the door. He quickly took his head set off resting it on the back of his neck, the controller in his lap. “Oh hey love, I didn’t know you was coming” He said with a small smile.

“Yeah, c-can I stay over?” You asked sitting on the edge of the bed where his chair was leaning against.

“Yeah of course, everything okay? Wait Ned!” He asked.

“Everything’s good” You lie smiling.

“Okay well i’m gonna play one more game then we can do something” He said turning around to play again with ned.

One game turned into two games and two games turned into more. Not that you minded, but you did want to feel physical touch right now. You needed Peters arms around you to tell you everything will be okay. Instead he’s shouting on the headset to Ned.

“Get him! SHOOT HIM!” He shouted as an idea popped into your head. You didn’t want him to stop playing as that’s what he wanted to do…so you stood up, throwing your phone on his bed.

Walking over to him slowly, seeing his eyes stay on the screen. “What the f-Y/n what are you- No Ned!” You moved his arms so you can sit on his lap in the chair. Your legs either side of them through the arms of the chairs and your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your head was now snuggled into his neck, taking in his sent.

“You okay, love?” He wrapped his arms around you still holding his controller in his hands. You just nodded into his neck not wanting to speak. At first he didn’t really think much about it, until he felt wetness in the crook of his neck. That’s when he turned off his game, taking the head set off and placing it with his controller on the side.

Peter then slowly stood up holding the back of your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held you. He pushed his chair back into the desk, walking over to his bed sitting down.

“Hey, hey sweetheart. What’s the matter?” He tries to lift your head up but you just keep forcing it back down. “Look at me y/n/n” He said, your head slowly lift eyes locking together. You wiped your eyes with your hands, looking at him with a fake smile.

“I’m fine, really.” You tell him again wanting to just stay in the position you was just in.

He rubbed both your arms feeling the goosebumps on your skin. “Your cold. Let me give you something to wear, i’ll get you a hoodie and bottoms” He smiles taking you off his lap.

Once you had gotten changed, Peter walked back into the room with some snacks for you both to eat. He dimmed the lights sitting next to you on his bed, wrapping his arm around you.

“M-My parents were arguing again, I tried to stop it. They got me involved and m-my mum went to hit my dad but she slapped me in the face instead a-as I was in between them. T-They never stop” You sob next to him as he pulls you closer to his body.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here y/n. Don’t worry. I’m so sorry that you have to go through that. Remember your always welcome to stay here” He told you and you always will be.

“I’m sorry I always come here when I have problems” You sniffle.

“Don’t apologise. I’m always gonna be here to comfort you….Now let’s watch StarWars” He smiles placing a kiss on your head.

You love Peter, he’s always there through stuff like this. Your just so lucky to have him in your life.

#fluff #peter parker #peter parker fluff #tom holland peter parker #mcu peter parker #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x reader #videogames #imagines #ned #spiderman #aunt may #yn #oneshot #tom holland

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literallykenmaandshoyo · 11 months

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What About Me?

Peter Parker x Female Reader!

Warnings: Angst. Reader is upset because Peter is off being busy as Spider-Man and he's stood her up one too many times for her liking

Word Count: 1.6k

Author's Note: Guys this is my first Peter Parker drabble! YAY!~ I absolutely adore Peter and I wrote this one up earlier tonight and figured it'd be good to share! I hope you all love it, I'm so used to writing fluff that sometimes I forget that writing angst is really good too! Let me know if you have any feedback or requests by sending in an ask, and remember to request Mod Shoyo to be specific! Have a great night (Or morning) everyone!

Also, PicsArt doesn't have the same scrabble letter thingies that Kenma and I have been using for our headers so this one is just a major WTF. Sorry if this looks ugly lol :,)

~Mod Shoyo <3

Y/N sat by her bedroom window, overlooking all of Queens from the seventh floor of her apartment building. Night had fallen and the stars were out, all of the buildings nearby had some office lights still on, people were probably still working, even at this ungodly hour.

That’s one thing that they had in common with her boyfriend Peter.

Being a web-slinging superhero was definitely not on Y/N's list of why Peter Parker could be so distant and just vanish all the time. However, when they first officially started dating, Peter took it upon himself to lay out all of his cards for her right then and there. Y/N was more than understanding and he thanked God for her every single day. Y/N knew that she said she’d be okay with the late nights and the canceled plans, that she’d be up waiting for him during late hours of the night just to make sure he came home safe.

But there was only so much she could take.

She stared down at her text messages with Peter. She asked him if he wanted to come and stay over at her apartment tonight since she’d been missing him a little extra these past couple days. Not only has Tony been working him to the bone, but the crime percentages in Queens seem to have only elevated since Peter would be out all night stopping robberies, saving people from getting mugged or kidnapped, the whole shebang.

I’ll swing over in 10 love <3 11:45 p.m

Y/N looked at the top of her screen and saw that it was 1:57 in the morning. She knew that she got herself into this and she told herself that every time that he was late or had to cancel on her. It wasn’t his fault. Peter was just doing his job, what he signed up to do, so she couldn’t be mad at him. But who could she get mad at?

She looked like a lovesick puppy, just waiting at her window to see the red and blue suit that her boyfriend wore to come swinging over to her building. Tears were streaming down her face and she was making herself more upset by crying over something like this. She grabbed her phone off the windowsill and turned it off, chucking it into a random corner of her room and lying in her bed. She got under her throw blanket on top of her covers and threw it over her head. Her sniffles and soft sobs weren’t loud enough to wake anyone, but a small part of her wished that Peter would walk in and hear how devastated she was.

Being Peter’s girlfriend was a blessing. It was something like a mantra that she told herself every single morning when she woke up. She wanted to be the one he came home to, the one that would make all of his cuts and bruises better after she cleaned him up, she wanted to be the last woman he would ever love in his life. She wanted to be his. Forever. But being in a relationship didn’t always mean that Peter was the one she fussed over all the time. She was entitled to her own feelings and how she felt, and right now, she was sick and tired of waiting up for Peter.

As if right on cue, her bedroom window slid open and in crawled Peter. He was panting, short of breath as soon as he ripped his mask off his face. “I’m so sorry love, there was this guy in an alleyway that wouldn’t leave this group of middle schoolers alone and he-”

Peter stopped dead in his tracks as he looked at Y/N's shaking figure under her throw blanket. He raised an eyebrow and walked over to the bed, his ears picking up on the sounds of her soft sniffles and hiccups. He pulled the blanket off her head and saw her laying in the fetal position. Her hair was covering the side of her face and he couldn’t really see her expression, but he knew that she was upset. Obviously.

“Baby,...” Peter pushed her hair behind her ear and could see her puffy eyes and red nose. “Hey, hey, what’s the matter?”

Y/N sat up in bed and fixed her crazy hair, sniffling and wiping tears off of her cheeks with the sleeves of her shirt. She sputtered and tried to speak, but she didn’t even know what to tell him. Part of her wanted to be straight up and just tell him that this is the seventh time she’s been kept up waiting on him, but the other part of her knew it wasn’t his fault and that she was just upset because he’s been so busy. Just because she was always available for him, doesn’t mean that Peter was always at her dispense too, especially with what he does with his time.

“I…”

Peter waited for her to explain, but she just looked down at her lap and started to cry again. He felt awful and he was so clueless. He thought back to the last time she cried and remembered that she had lost a grandfather recently that she was close to. Maybe it was that. He grabbed her hand and held it in his tightly.

“Is this about your grandpa again, love?”

Y/N shook her head and pulled her hand away from his. Now Peter was really confused. He racked his brain trying to figure out what else it could be, but every single option he came up with just came to a dead end. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how hard he was trying to think, and she found it ironic. He was so intelligent, the smartest guy she’s ever known. Yet he’s so oblivious when it comes to the small things, she always thought that maybe his brain was so big, that the most simple of questions really took a couple of seconds for him to think about.

“I’m just tired, Peter.” She finally croaked.

Peter’s heart fell into his chest. His gaze met hers instantly and he felt his heart pounding in his chest. He always thought about how Y/N never deserved to be with someone like him, not when he has the whole Spider-Man thing going for him. It’s unfair to her. And he always felt like one day she’d get tired of it all, but he was praying to God out of his own selfishness, that today was not that day.

“This…” She hiccuped. “This is the seventh time that I’ve stayed up past what we agreed to see each other at just to see if maybe you needed a little more time to come home.”

Now Peter understood.

“You said you’d only be ten minutes at 11:45 and it's two in the morning now, Peter.” Peter looked down at her hands and noticed that they were trembling. “It’s been so hard for me these past couple times to just tell myself this is what I signed up for. But I miss you so much while you’re gone.”

She broke down in tears again, sobbing into her hands. Her sobs and her hiccups were muffled, but that only made them louder in Peter’s head. She was right, in every way imaginable. He hadn’t been much of a boyfriend recently, only texting her about how much he loved and missed her, sending her a quick selfie while he was mid-swing from one crime to the next. He couldn’t even imagine how lonely she must feel within those gaps of time that he wasn’t messaging her.

“Baby, I- I’m so sorry,” Peter cooed. “I know that I’ve been really busy recently, and I-I can’t even think about how lonely you must feel every single time I do this,”

Y/N looked up from her hands and wiped the snot that was running down her nose. She could barely keep her puffy eyes open enough to look at him.

“Don’t ever tell yourself that this is what you signed up for ever again.” Peter scolded. “I asked you to be my girlfriend because I knew in my heart that I was ready to be your boyfriend. And I still believe that. I haven’t been giving you the attention that you deserve and that’s completely on me. Okay?”

Y/N stayed quiet, staring at him with her bloodshot eyes and a quivering lip. The scary part was over. She was never good with calling people out and telling them how what they’re doing affects her. She’d rather just forgive them and never have to talk about it again. But then, when it happens again, she just puts herself through an endless cycle.

“I just miss you…” Y/N sobbed, wrapping her arms around Peter.

She dug her nose into the crook of his neck, bringing her hands up to the back of his head to feel his hair in between her fingers. When Peter hugged her back, her entire body relaxed and she just let him hold her while she cried into his suit. Peter was rubbing her back comfortingly, whispering sweet things into her ears in between pressing kisses to the top of her head and her temples.

“I’ll do better for you, baby. I promise, okay?”

Y/N nodded.

Peter felt himself getting choked up the entire time Y/N was crying in front of him. The lump in the back of his throat was almost unbearable to push his spit past whenever he swallowed. He held Y/N in his arms for a while longer before finally taking his suit off and changing into some pajamas. He crawled into bed with Y/N and held her once more, the sound of her heart beat finally calming down bringing a soft smile to his face. He kissed the top of her head once more and closed his eyes.

That night, he made a promise to himself.

A promise that she was never going to feel like this ever again.

#marvel #x reader #female reader #marvel x reader #Spider-Man #tom holland #peter parker #peter parker x reader #spider-man x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #spider man homecoming #spider man far from home #spider man no way home #tom holland x reader #tom holland spider man #tom holland peter parker

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 6 months

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I’m Sorry

(Tom) Peter Parker x reader

Requested by @megafandomsxassemble

Synopsis: Peter tries to save you from Green Goblin, but he’s too late (set during No Way Home at the final battle)

“Ned, Ned are you ok?”

Ned groaned as Peter helped him up.

“I’m fine. I couldn’t get the portal to close…”

“Where’s Y/N?”

Ned’s eyes darted around the school lab.

“She was here just a second ago, I swear.”

Peter felt panic grip him as he frantically called out your name, with no response. A bone-chilling cackle dragged Peter’s attention outside, and he saw the Green Goblin zip by on his hovercraft.

“Go,” Ned insisted. “I’ll find her.”

“I can’t, not until I know she’s ok!”

“Um, Peter?” Ned’s eyes were wide with fear when Green Goblin made another pass in front of them. “I found her.”

Peter turned, a mix of his spidey senses and his gut instinct hinting to him what Ned already knew.

“Peter!” You struggled against the Green Goblin’s hold as he held you by your waist, your arms pinned to your sides.

“I think you lost something, Peter,” Goblin called, cackling that awful laugh again.

“Let her go!” Peter rushed back through Ned’s portal, stopping at the edge of a catwalk: he couldn’t get to you, Green Goblin’s hovercraft was too far away.

“I don’t think you want me to do that, Peter. But if you insist…”

“No!”

Peter didn’t hesitate. The moment Green Goblin’s hold released on you and you began to fall, he was falling with you.

His outstretched fingers brushed yours, and he was certain he could get a hold.

Until Green Goblin changed directions, the wing of his hoverboard catching Peter’s shoulder and sending him spinning at the wrong angle, the wrong direction.

“No!” He cried out, firing out a web in your direction. It took so long to reach you that at first Peter thought it had missed you entirely, but then he felt the tug from the web, and he gripped it tightly.

He shot another web above him, and soon his own descent was stopped. Once it was, he was able to see clearly, and he looked down trying to find you. His angle was off, he could see you but he couldn’t tell if the web had gotten there in time; he couldn’t tell if you were moving.

Moving swiftly, he attached the web that was holding you to a nearby catwalk, before making his way down to the floor to be near you.

Only when he was on the ground did he see it; your back was pressed up against the concrete, his web had slowed your descent, but you still hit the ground hard.

“Hey, hey,” he knelt beside you, breathing a sigh of relief when your eyes opened. “I’m here, I’m right here you’re ok.”

“Peter,” you breathed, before breaking into a fit of coughing. Peter couldn’t hold back his gasp when blood began to dribble down your chin. “Peter…”

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so so sorry, I’m gonna make it better, ok? I’m gonna get you to a hospital.”

“Too late,” you breathed, and he knew it was true. Even now, he could pick up on your fading, weakening heartbeat.

“No no no,” his hand made its way under your head, and he lifted you just slightly into his arms. “No, you’re gonna be fine, ok?”

“It’s ok,” you coughed, grabbing Peter’s free hand in your own. “It’s ok.”

“No. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

“It’s not…your fault…” your breaths were coming out in gasps. “Peter…” your hand was losing its grip on his despite your best efforts.

“I’m right here,” he promised, holding your hand in his before it could slip away.

“You…you were born to be Spider-Man, ok? I-I want you…” another round of coughing wracked your body before you could continue. “I want you to remember the people you saved, not the people you couldn’t.”

“Don’t say that,” Peter cried. “Don’t, don’t I can still save you! Don’t go, please don’t go. You can’t leave me…I love you!”

Despite the pain and your rapidly deteriorating heartbeat, at his words a wide smile broke out on your face, lighting up your eyes.

“I…I love…” your breath caught in your throat.

It was the last breath you would ever breathe.

“No,” Peter whimpered. “Please, please no.”

He heard it the moment that your heartbeat stopped. But that wasn’t what hurt the most.

What hurt him the most was watching that vibrant light, the one he had brought with just his words, slowly dim, before fading out completely.

#peter parker #tom holland peter parker #peter parker x reader #marvel #spider man #green goblin #spider man x reader

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

Text

mitosis // peter parker

pairing: peter parker x stark! reader

summary: you and peter have a bio project on asexual reproduction; specifically, mitosis. the avengers believe there is a different type of reproduction going on, and hint hint, it is not asexual.

warnings: friends to lovers, mutual pining, tony stark is a FOOL, the avengers are horrible meddling matchmakers, swearing, mentions of sex but no smut, poor bruce just wants to help

w/c: 10.4k (i'm so sorry i got carried away)

“this might be a bad time to ask, but what… is… that?” you slapped your hand next to a diagram of a cell splitting itself into pieces, like some fucked up version of a minecraft slime that existed in your body—no, was your body.

peter sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes, but you could tell he wasn’t actually upset. his lips were pursed and the corners of his mouth curved downwards, which was a telltale sign that he was holding back a laugh.

“you do realize that this project is due in a week, right?” peter, who had been lying on his stomach while studying, pushed himself off the ground to meet your eye level. he scooched a bit closer to you, pushing the textbook out from between you so he could get close enough for his knees to touch yours.

“duh, i totally knew that. it’s on my calendar and everything.” you and peter both looked up at the captain-america-holding-puppies themed calendar on your wall; peter raised his eyebrows, amused, when he saw that the entire month was blank.

“i mean my digital calendar. who even uses physical calendars anymore? that’s so stupid. i only bought it to support the puppies. not because steve looks really g- not because i wanted to use it, or anything. besides, it’s good decor.”

peter didn’t try to hold back his laughter this time. he pressed his hands to your cheeks, shaking your head. “you’re so dumb, you know that right?” you grinned, except not really, because your face was being squished.

“no! your fashe is shtupid!” you swatted at his hands, scrambling for the discarded textbook and holding it up in front of your face to shield yourself from his attack.

peter chuckled breathlessly, guiding the textbook down from between the two of your faces until it brushed against both of your legs, which hadn’t stopped touching. peter caught his breath and his playful expression from a minute ago softened into a look of adoration. you smiled faintly at him, eyes darting between his. sure, the two of you were friends. best friends, maybe—but you had always thought that was unfair to MJ and ned—but you weren’t the type of friends to hold each other’s faces (even if it was just a joke) or sit so close to each other (even if it was just for the convenience of sharing a textbook) or get lost in each others’ eyes (even if that’s what you were doing right now).

you heard your father’s sing-song voice as his muffled footsteps (he was probably wearing his new iron man slippers) approached your door. “oh stark spawnnn… my favorite child…”

the trance that you and peter were in broke immediately. you smiled sheepishly and pushed yourself off the ground to go see why your father was calling you. you only took a few steps before the door flew open to reveal an energetic tony stark.

“how many red bulls have you had today?” you sighed, having given up on trying to reduce your father’s energy drink dependency long ago.

“uh, five.” he checked his watch. “it’s only 11 though!” he shrugged his shoulders. “anyways, i need you to- oh hi spiderboy.” tony looked past your shoulder to see a pink-faced peter sitting awkwardly next to an open biology textbook and two backpacks. peter raised his hand in greeting, not wanting to push it by using words considering he was already in the daughter of his mentor’s room.

“you needed?” you prompted, stealing a glance at peter at the same time your father did. you were antsy, wanting to get back to doing whatever it was that you had been doing with peter as soon as possible.

“right. you know you’re my favorite kid, right? remember how i took you to mexico last month and let you buy as much street food as you wanted? you’re a really good, smart, cool kid, you know? i-”

“alright, spit it out. and don’t even get me started on mexico—that was because you had a mission. so,” you sighed, unable to stay mad at him after seeing the guilt creeping on your dad’s face. if tony stark was showing any emotion other than narcissism, something must’ve been seriously wrong. “what did you do?”

“okay, so i might have gotten into an argument with cap…” you looked at him suspiciously. that was a pretty normal occurrence. “…aaand i may have called him ageriatriccosplayerinspandex…. uh… wholookslikehecouldbeinasexyfirefightercalendar… but that he was sopurethathewouldprobablycombustjustlookingatthecostumes.”

“dad. i- i have no clue what you just said and i don’t really want to, considering the only words i could make out were ‘geriatric, spandex, sexy firefighter, combust’ and that doesn’t sound very promising.” tony looked down at the floor in shame.

“so you came to me to help you to help steve to forgive you? aren’t you like, the adult here?” tony pushed his glasses up his nose, eyebrows furrowed.

“i, uh, can’t. because he’s locked himself into his room and the last time i saw him he was probably as red as my suit. and you know he’ll listen to you over me!” tony whined, pulling at his hair, distressed.

“okay, okay. yeah, i’ve got it. now can you go and eat something? all that redbull’s gonna kill you if you don’t have carbs to soak it up. or at least i think that’s how nutrition works. i don’t know. when you and steve finish filming your firefighter porno, you can ask him about it. after all, he’s a supersoldier.” you grabbed your father’s arms to turn him around, then dug your palms into his back to push him out the door. “goodbye favorite father!”

“i’m your only father!” you heard tony yell back at you as your door slammed shut.

“jeez, i’m so sorry about that peter.” you threw yourself onto your bed with a couple of bounces from the impact. peter laughed, coming up to meet you on the plush comforter. he grabbed a pillow and laid it under your head, which you raised gratefully so that he could slide it underneath you. as he fluffed the pillow, peter’s hand slipped behind your neck to pull your hair out from beneath you and ran his fingers through it absentmindedly as he splayed it out like sunbeams around your head. you hummed contentedly.

“so, steve’s a sexy firefighter, huh?” peter mused, his calloused fingers brushing gently at your hairline, pulling stray strands and baby hairs out of your eyes.

“i could see that,” you grinned. “he’s got the body to be a calendar model, for sure. i mean, he’s already got a puppy calendar. i wouldn’t be opposed to 12 different pictures of shirtless steve in my room.”

peter was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat. “your dad said something about steve listening to you?” he wasn’t jealous or anything, just curious about your relationship with him. i mean, steve was pretty nice. and chivalrous. and adored. and really, really, really ripped-

“oh yeah, he did say that. steve and i are kind of similar, you know? we’re just surrounded by tech geniuses and STEM minds,” you raised your hand to tap his nose, and missed, poking him in the lips, “like you. and it gets a little isolating sometimes, not being able to do that kind of stuff. steve’s a really talented artist, you know? but he doesn’t really show anyone his work because he feels like it’s not as important as what everyone else does. and, well, it’s not like i inherited my dad’s genes or anything.” your eyes were fixed on the ceiling. “sometimes i wonder if being tony stark’s kid is worth it, you know? maybe if i had been adopted by a normal family, i wouldn’t feel so inadequate all the time, surrounded by fucking superheros…” you trailed off, losing yourself to your own thoughts.

“do you really feel like that?” peter’s voice was laced with concern. he crawled over to you with as much grace as one could have when crawling around on a bed—which is to say, none—so he could look you in the eyes. you smiled at the bed creaking and sinking under his shifting weight, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

“is that really what you think of yourself?” peter had propped himself up with his forearm stretched your body, his other arm pressed into the space beside your head so that his face was floating just a foot above yours. you turned your head to the side, not wanting to get into all of your deepest darkest insecurities when you had originally planned on working on your biology project. you were not emotionally prepared for this.

“uh, i should probably check on steve. my dad is probably gonna keep interrupting us to beg if i don’t play peacemaker, like, right now. and interruptions would be really bad for, uh, our productivity.

‘cuz we have to work on that project about miosum. miolsis. mitosis.” you slipped out from beneath peter’s body, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you lingered by the door.

“yeah, um, yeah. you’re right.” peter shook his head rapidly, trying to gain control of his thoughts and slow his racing heart. “yeah. and you were right, it’s mitosis. MJ and ned are doing miosis.”

he could tell that those words made no sense to you; that blank stare did not escape his watchful eye. “go see steve. i’m sure that… he needs you. he probably needs someone close right now, or something.” peter laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. stupid peter! stupid, stupid peter! why are you encouraging her to leave?

“yeah, that’s a good idea,” your hand was on the doorknob, but you made no indication of wanting to leave. “yeah, he’s really important to me, and i wouldn’t want to see him upset. so i should probably be a good-” you coughed, “friend. a good friend to him.” why did you do that? friend? why friend? friends plural? what about friends? why about friends? what does that even mean? with one last glance over your shoulder, you ripped open the door and slammed it behind you, fast-paced steps echoing in the hallway as you practically sprinted away from your room, and from peter.

as soon as he heard your footsteps recede, peter flopped onto your bed much as you had done just a few minutes ago. he groaned, flinging his arm over his forehead with dejection. why was he always screwing things up? he had been so close to you, twice, and both times he had managed to break the tension before it could go anywhere. well, the first time was tony’s fault. but the second time was all on him—he had upset you to the point where you literally ran away from him into the arms of the person he was jealous of.

the door flew open again. what now? why is there no privacy around here?

“i thought i heard something!” sam and bucky stood in the doorway, the former leaning against the frame with a smirk and the latter behind him with his arm crossed and his permanent grimace affixed to his face.

“h-hey! uh, what are you guys doing here?” peter stuttered, pushing himself off the bed and standing with his arms pressed flat against his sides, eyes darting around the room as if he had just hidden a corpse under the bed.

“i could ask the same,” sam probed, easily seeing through peter’s poor attempt at nonchalance. “stark’s kid, huh?” sam nodded, looking peter up and down appraisingly. he elbowed bucky, who had not been paying attention whatsoever, and the two of them whispered to each other furiously before turning back to peter, who was extremely confused and a bit uncomfortable.

“uh, yeah. we were just-” peter’s arms peeled off from their aggressively straightened position as he tried to conjure up an explanation as to why he was in your room, in your bed, without making it seem like he was a perv digging around your personal belongings.

“so, where’s your other half? hiding under the bed? in the closet, maybe? no need to be embarrassed kids, we all saw it coming.”

“what are you even talking about- there’s nobody- what?” peter gulped, watching as bucky shoved sam to the side, striding menacingly towards him. oh shit. were they going to kill him because they thought he was a stalker, or something? wait, what if bucky thinks i’m trying to steal steve’s girl? oh god, this is it. this is the end. bucky’s metal hand wrapped around peter’s tense shoulder. peter shut his eyes, preparing for the worst. instead, bucky’s flesh hand ruffled peter’s hair; and to peter’s shock, the grumpy supersoldier’s face was bearing the faintest hint of amusement.

“you two stay safe, alright?” bucky extended his hands, much to peter’s further confusion. a box of extra large condoms with a stick-on bow landed in bucky’s hands. he promptly handed the gift to peter.

peter’s eyes flickered from the festive condom box to sam, who was mimicking a basketball shoot, to bucky, who was trying his best to paste his frown back on, but clearly struggling as he took in peter’s bewilderment and sam’s ridiculousness.

“right, we’re done here! and you can come out from under the bed, we don’t care.” sam yelled back to peter as he dragged bucky away, muttering something that sounded like “horny teenagers…”

obviously, there was nobody under the bed. you were probably busy consoling steve in his bed. not that peter was thinking about you being in beds, of course. i mean, sure, he was, but in a purely innocent way. like, you were sitting on a frame you got from IKEA. super pure and stuff.

peter blinked a few times, swaying dazedly in place before resigning himself to brainstorming project ideas. he probably should’ve been mad that his project partner didn’t even know what mitosis was—the topic they had been studying for two weeks now—but he knew he could never be upset with you. instead, he pulled out his laptop and started taking notes for you. he had the material down, but after hearing how you’d felt inadequate around science and technology-oriented people, he’d be damned if he made you feel like you didn’t understand the material. (even if you didn’t.)

peter was so swept up in his work that he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of you hissing at natasha as she laughed. it wasn’t like he wanted to listen in on your conversation or that he was a creep—he couldn’t help it! he had superhuman hearing, after all.

“—sleeping with him! i knew something was going on.” natasha wasn’t even trying to be quiet, and even with his hands over his ears, he could hear every word. he cursed his unnatural hearing

abilities. sleeping with someone? who were you sleeping with? why didn’t he know about this? peter wasn’t sure if he wanted to know anyway.

“i am not sleeping with him, you creep! since when did you become a conspiracy theorist?” peter heard natasha’s amused snort.

“riiight. so you just so happen to smell like cologne and you have bedhead in the middle of the afternoon when you and i both know you were up at 7:30 today?”

you groaned. your voice was pretty close to the door now, and peter nearly slammed his head down into the textbook so it wouldn’t look like he’d been intentionally eavesdropping.

“goodbye, natasha.” the door swung open to reveal a disgruntled figure who indeed had bedhead. shit. you were sleeping with steve. and he had basically encouraged you to. peter had never wanted to get punched in the face more.

“hey,” you sighed, collapsing dramatically next to peter’s side. his back was hunched over in concentration, but as your body brushed against his arm, he stiffened. you looked concerned. “everything good?”

peter thought he was going to be sick.

“yeah! yep, i’m totally good. really great, actually, because i just remembered that may said we were getting thai tonight! so i should probably get back earlier.” he forced out an unconvincing laugh. “uh, i took notes for you. i’ll just share the document when i get home, or something. okay! bye! see you tomorrow! i’m super excited to work on our project!” peter rambled as he shoved everything into his backpack, zipping it up with unnatural speed and running out of your room without so much as a look backwards.

sunday morning was rainy and humid. peter steeled himself before knocking on your bedroom door, squeezing out the last of the water in his floppy hair.

“pete!” you squealed, happy to see him. after his abrupt leave yesterday, you thought you might’ve done something wrong and spent the night restlessly wracking your brain for anything that could’ve upset him. you never ended up figuring it out; your brain only stopped it’s churning after the first glimmers of sunrise peaked through your window.

you threw yourself into peter’s chest, knocking the air out of him. after a second or two, peter wrapped his arms around yours and rubbed his hand up and down your back soothingly, making sure it didn’t slip down further than would be platonically acceptable. your arms clung around his waist possessively, clinging onto him as if he was going to run away again.

“you’re gonna get all wet if you keep hugging me like this,” peter chided, craning his neck to rest his chin on the crown of your head. you were a bit too short for it to be a comfortable position, and the two of you had always laughed about it, but the truth was peter enjoyed the closeness of it. he felt your warm breath against his damp shirt as you mumbled something with your face pressed into his body. it tickled.

“hm? what was that?” just like yesterday afternoon, he stroked the back of your head and ran his fingers through your hair. you sighed, melting into his embrace even more.

“i said your chest is too hard. i feel like i’ve given myself a concussion.” you scoffed. “you’d make the worst pillow ever. absolutely horrible at cuddling,” you mumbled, pressing your face back into his chest and inhaling deeply, “and you’re like the worst hugger.”

peter laughed and you could feel his body vibrating around you. you unwravelled yourself from him but kept your hands on his biceps so you could pull back steadily. you looked him up and down and frowned when you saw his sneakers, which had left squeaky puddles of water outside your room.

“ew, look at the mud.” you poked his shoe with your fluffy-sock covered toe. “c’mon, i’ll find something for you to wear.” you pulled peter inside, your eyes fixated on your dresser with such determination that you missed the dopey smile on peter’s face as he trailed behind you, kicking the door shut once you were both in.

“take off your sneakers, they’re nasty.” you tossed a pair of bundled socks at peter with your back still turned as you dug through messy heaps of clothing. it hit his arm with a soft bump and another as it fell to the floor. you swung your head around, watching as he bent down to pick up the socks, already knowing what you were about to say it.

“i’m not even going to say anything.” you smirked. “i’ll save the peter tingle jokes to may.”

he pursed his lips together to try and suppress the grin that threatened to spread across his face as he sat on the edge of your bed and started untying his shoes. i have to control myself around her. she’s already taken—i think—and it would be so unfair for her to find out that i like her too. i can’t put her in that position. just act natural, peter. no pining.

“uh, all your shirts are in the wash.” you cracked your neck. “great. the minute i decided to wear them is when you need them the most.”

“you wear my clothes?” peter croaked, trying to fan away the image of you in one of those stupid science pun t-shirts he’d worn so often that they had softened from their original stiff, boxy, cheap structure into something comfortable enough for you to wear, apparently.

“yeah, sometimes. to bed, and whatever, you know?” you fiddled with a bundle of fabric in your hands bashfully.

why are we always talking about beds.

you cleared your throat. “anyways! i found this. if it doesn’t fit, i’m sure i can scrounge for something else.” this time, he caught the shirt when you tossed it over to him. crossing his arms, he pulled off his damp shirt in one sweep, much to your horror.

jesus holy shit fucking christ. no wonder his chest is so hard. oh god, i said that out loud to him, didn’t i? that’s so embarrassing, oh my god. why am i like this? i’m staring. it’s not just embarrassing anymore, it’s creepy. but look at him! the rainwater makes his abs look like they’re-

your ogling was interrupted by the sight of the new, dry shirt covering up his bare skin. you shakily met his eyes, praying he hadn’t noticed. of course he fucking noticed. peter pushed the curls from his forehead to reveal the shit-eating grin pasted across his stupid, perfect face.

“uh, i’m glad it fits!” you squeaked, spinning around as quickly as you could. you busied yourself with digging around for more clothes as you heard peter’s chuckle approaching you. he wrapped his arms around you once more as he nuzzled his nose into your hair.

“oh, you’re wet!” peter unstuck his shirt from your damp one. you spun around, ears burning and eyes wide open. “oh my god! sorry, not like that! no, i mean,” he gestured wildly to your torso, “your shirt! you hugged me and now you’re w- damp.” he forced himself to make eye contact with you and not linger his gaze too long on your thin, semi-translucent top.

you spun around again to face your dresser, letting out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding before resuming to your digging. you held up a shirt proudly. “hey! i found another one of your shirts.” you held it up triumphantly. “i didn’t even know this one was here.”

peter examined it. “i haven’t seen this thing in ages. i can’t believe it was you that’s been stripping my closet barren. i thought they just kept getting lost in the wash.”

stripping. that doesn’t mean anything. this is peter. peter is not a stripper. you would not strip for peter. or strip peter.

the two of you laughed awkwardly before you began to take your shirt off too. peter didn’t find it so funny now. “ah- are you going to ch-change here? should i- um- do you want me to leave? i’m so sorry ididntmeantolook i-”

you couldn’t see the bright red flush blooming on peter’s cheeks, as you were currently stuck in your shirt.

“shit. um, peter?” you wriggled around, trying to free yourself.

“y-yeah?”

“i’m stuck.”

“you’re… stuck?” peter turned around to see you half-shirtless, your hands held over your head as you tried to pull the damp shirt off your head unsuccessfully. he prayed that you wouldn’t ask him for help, because he thought if he had to look at you a minute longer, he’d do something incredibly stupid.

“yeah. the shirt was tight to begin with and then the water made it stick and i must’ve- anyways, uh, can you help me?”

peter gulped. “are you sure?”

“please,” you begged. “this is so embarrassing already, please just help me get out of this. it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bathing suit before and it’s like the same thing, right?”

yeah, it is the same thing, peter thought. and that’s the problem. seeing you in a bathing suit and seeing you now make me the same amount of nervous.

peter’s fingers tentatively brushed your ribcage and you shivered.

“i think it’s because my elbow is stuck in one of the sleeves.” you muttered from inside the shirt. “jeez, you’d think for a designer company, the clothing would be a bit more practical. i’m never letting dad buy me clothes ever again.”

peter gave your top a bit of a tug and you giggled in surprise as his fingers dragged up your chest, tickling your bare skin. he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips at the sight of you. you grinned once your head was free, and peter tossed the shirt behind him as he bore his eyes into yours, refusing to give in to his instinct to look down. the two of you stood like that for a while, your chest heaving as you caught your breath and peter’s heart pounding as he caught the movement from his peripheral.

“the fuck?” scott lang stood by the door, frozen in shock as his grip on his chocolate croissant loosened. the pastry fell to the ground with a sad thwap. “wow. i didn’t think i’d been gone for that long. it’s like all the interesting things happen when i’m away.” scott grumbled, scraping the chocolate off the floor.

“alright, i’ll leave the two of you to it. and next time, lock the door, goddamnit!” scott shook his head as he shut the door—properly this time—and walked away mourning the loss of his snack.

“i’m sorry, i must not’ve closed the door properly-” peter stuttered as you panicked. “i’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing i can’t believe everybody’s just seen me topless-” you rambled, pacing the room until you shivered.

“shit! i’m still not wearing a shirt!” you grabbed peter’s shirt—the one you had just been looking at—and slid it over your head in record speed.

peter barked a fake laugh. “that’s so funny!” he said, dead serious. “everyone’s… seen you shirtless? ha, ha, ha!” what the fuck.

“no, no that’s not it!” you fretted, taking his hands in yours. “no! i meant you and scott. and tony, obviously. and like, bruce. and wanda and natasha because we go shopping all the time, you know? not steve, though. i think he’d pass away on the spot.”

“oh! that’s… nice!” peter choked. so me and scott and tony. that makes sense. and bruce, maybe he was doing some medical thing? well, at least steve wasn’t on that list.

“...i realize now how weird that must’ve sounded.” you gulped. “i swear, i’m not stripping for the entire team. it- it makes more sense in context. i swear.” you rubbed his arm comfortingly, praying that he wouldn’t think the way you treated him was the same way you treated everyone else. no, the way you treated peter was very much different. maybe it was stupid to expect someone to be able to read your mind through your behaviors (well, not in wanda’s case), but you were terrified to cross any sort of boundary with peter, much less tell him how you’d been feeling lately, so you’d stick to, well, whatever this was.

“we should probably work on our project,” you commented.

“that’s a good idea.”

you hummed in agreement. “mitosis, right?”

“yep. cell division. did you get my notes?”

“yes,” you were unnervingly still as you stood by peter’s side, refusing to meet his eye. all of a sudden, you felt him take a sharp breath and fall into a seated position on the ground, tapping a spot next to him. the two of you rummaged around for your textbooks and notes, getting to work on a project that the subject matter of which you had no clue.

the downside of peter’s freaky spider powers was his insane metabolism, and it probably didn’t help that he was a growing teenage boy. peter’s stomach was growling loudly after a few hours, and he’d insisted he was fine. after the third dull roar, you jumped up.

“alright, you masochist. you’re not starving to death on my watch. you stay here and do the work because that’s what you’ve been doing the whole time and i’ll go make us something to eat.” he smiled as you left, watching you leave, clad with his shirt.

“you guys done?” scott pulled up beside you, cracking his knuckles.

“holy shit!” you screeched, not expecting the presence of the man who had not only snuck up on you but had also just seen you half-naked.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to startle you. are you kids hungry? i always get tired. it’s a lot of physical exertion.” he winked, poking around the cabinets with carelessly loud clatters.

“we’re probably gonna need another few days to finish,” you spoke absentmindedly, standing in front of the fridge as you investigated for anything with potential. “it’s turning out to be harder than i thought.”

“jesus, kid, you two are freaky! i never knew peter had it in him to- or should i say-”

“please do not finish that.” natasha swung herself over the countertop and settled into a relaxed slouch, her quiet entrance startling both of you.

“why are all of you so damn quiet?” you rolled your eyes, cutting up slices of different fruits.

“i could ask the same of you, we haven’t heard a peep. i thought tony was installing the soundproofing next sunday?” bucky trudged through the door, his footsteps loud and for once you were grateful. he leaned his hands on the counter and shared a look with natasha that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“trust me, i’m bitching and moaning plenty. this is taking so long,” you drawled, extending the vowels of your last word as you arranged the fruit onto a tray with a flourish. “alright, i’m out.”

you could hear the three avengers whispering loudly behind you as you made your way back to peter. “i can hear you, you know. why are all of you here anyways?”

“uh… we’re having a tea party?”

“okay, i cut out all the diagram parts last night. i didn’t start assembling them because i was pretty sure i’d end up gluing my hands together or putting it together wrong, so i figured we could just do it together.” peter had been coming over almost every day so that the two of you could work on your biology project. it turned out that as much as you hated biology, it was a lot more enjoyable when you got to work with peter.

“ooo, i love this part. it’s like assembling IKEA furniture.” the two of you looked over to your bed, remembering when peter had been visiting tony and found you in the middle of a pile of wood pieces, looking absolutely lost. he’d spent hours helping you undo the mistakes and put it together properly, and that’s when you knew that your feelings for him had changed.

you laughed at his excitement. charged with happiness, you rested your head on his shoulder without thinking. the two of you went silent almost immediately after comprehending the situation, and you moved to pull away, face burning. before you could, though, peter had slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in closer. you turned your head and buried it into his neck, your smile uncontrollable as you relished his touch.

“we should probably get the glue,” peter noted.

“good call.” you mumbled into his shoulder, warm breath drawing shivers from him.

“thank you.”

you stared at the diagram pieces. “glue is very necessary component.”

“for sure.”

neither of you made any effort to get glue.

“anyways!” peter broke the silence by nudging his shoulder to probe your head out. “i’m gonna be honest, we could probably finish this today if we really tried. i mean, we’re literally a floor away from the most advanced technology lab in the entirety of new york, surrounded by the greatest scientists and innovative minds of the century, so-”

“please do not inflate my dad’s ego any further. against all rules of logic and science or whatever, that thing will never stop growing. it’ll grow until it swallows all of north america.”

“gotcha…” peter’s voice became softer, eyes growing a little hazy as he stared to the side of your face. his hand stretched out, fingers quivering ever so slightly, and for just a second, you thought that maybe he was going to take your chin in his hands and kiss you. but that’d be stupid, because you were just friends and kissing was decidedly non-platonic. instead, he brushed a strand of hair behind your ears.

“sorry, it was distracting me,” he confessed bashfully. “but i was gonna say is how i think it’s kind of funny that we’re making this 3-d cardstock diagram of the mitosis process when honestly? we could probably be testing mr. stark’s updated blasters or making lightsabers or something.”

you looked at peter for a second and then burst into a guffaw. “our project seems so trivial compared to all that, but is it weird that i actually think of this as my baby? we must’ve spent at least eight hours on this—yeah, i know we probably could’ve gotten away with finishing something simpler in half the time, but i really enjoy spending time with you—” you rushed, taking a breath after realizing what you had said, and then continuing just as quickly as you had been speaking before. “but this?” you picked up the meticulously cut components to your diagrams made of cardstock detailed with fine-lined sharpie drawings of spindly kinetochore-microtubule, cleverly crumpled cellophane chromosomes and little buttons for the chromatids.

“it’s not stupid!” peter blurted, quick to reassure you. “i’m pretty proud of it too. now let’s go use some of banner’s precision glue and assemble this bad boy.”

by the time the two of you had finished putting together every 3-d replica of the six stages of mitosis, your backs were sore from how long you’d been hunched over. you rolled your head and heard your neck crack loudly.

“holy shit, how long have we been here?” you mumbled, blinking forcefully to escape your fuzzy state of concentration. “FRIDAY? what time is it?”

“it is 7:45pm. you have not yet eaten; would you like me to place an order for dinner?”

peter’s head perked up at the sound of dinner. “DELMARS?” he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes even though he knew you wouldn’t need any convincing.

you sighed sarcastically, throwing your body across your chair as if you had just fainted. “if you insist,” you groaned. you raised your voice a bit to signal FRIDAY. “can i get the fried avocado tacos? two- nah, three of them. and please specify that i do not want them smushed down real flat.”

“hey, i’ll have you know that flattened sandwiches are more efficient and less messy to eat. and-”

you lost focus on peter’s words as he listed off his usual order; instead, you found yourself admiring his side profile. even from the lab table diagonal from him, you could see the brightness of excitement in his eye that you always found endearing. you loved watching him so happy over something as simple as sandwiches, and you felt honored that you were the one who got to experience that happiness. you wondered what it’d be like if he looked at you with that sort of gleaming adoration one day.

“right! i’m basically done; i just need to figure out how to do the cytokinesis shape.” peter announced, taking a peek at your three perfectly done models. you always had a better instinct for solutions, and creating what was essentially a three-dimensional figure eight with convincingly spherical outsides was something peter was scared to approach altogether.

“i’ve got you, pete!” you kicked off from the legs of your table and slid towards peter on your wheeled chair. perhaps you had used too much force because the momentum of your path sent you tumbling straight into peter’s chair, where you jolted forwards. you swore you could see each second ticking by in slow motion as your heads came closer and closer to collision, and your hands frantically reached out in front of you for something to prevent the impending bump and potential concussion. one of your flailing hands landed on his shoulder, which you squeezed hard until your nails dug into his skin. the other found a home on his upper thighs, where you tried to find a stable grip. almost immediately, peter’s eyes went wide, and his cheeks flushed a dark shade of red.

he gulped. “t-thank you! i actually have to go to the bathroom, so maybe could you finish this one for me?” his eyes darted around the room frantically, looking anywhere but at you. “and i’ll pick up the food while i’m at it! bye!” peter tugged his shirt down as he bolted through the automatic glass doors, leaving you alone and a bit hurt.

you fiddled with the model for a bit before you were able to arrange it in a shape you were satisfied with. setting everything aside and admiring the six perfectly made representations of mitosis, you let out a long, satisfied breath. finally, the worst of the biology projects for this year was over. it’d be smooth sailing from here on outwards. you’d be lying if you said you would miss peter’s presence in your room on chilly new york nights with cups of coffee beside you as you finished homework for non-bio classes. though the boy had been working with your father for a while, you never connected with him until partnered for this project, and you weren’t sure where that would leave you after the project was over. would he still come over for study sessions? would you go back to your individual friend groups? would he even be bothered to spend one-on-one time with you anymore?

peter returned with two paper bags in each hand and a triumphant smile on his face. you pumped your fist excitedly.

“yesss,” you hissed, jumping up and grabbing the bag with your name. “i feel like my stomach is eating me from the inside out. can we move up to the kitchen? don’t tell dad, but i’d kill for a coffee right now.”

“you’re drinking coffee? this late? that’s a bad idea, and you know i won’t hesitate to get mr. stark involved if y-”

“oh no, he doesn’t care about how late i drink coffee. he just thinks it’s a sin to pick coffee over redbull,” you shrugged, scooping up as much of your project as you could in one arm. “c’mon bugbaby!” you spared him a look before disappearing through the door and upstairs, absolutely ravenous.

peter stood there for a couple of seconds, feeling stupid, before he caught himself in the act. he forced his lips, which had been quirked up into a dopey smile, into a stoic line. he squished his face together to rid himself of his pinched eyebrows and dazed stare. and the sigh of adoration he had let out became a coughing fit. peter thumped his chest a couple of times to rid his throat of the imaginary block, but he couldn’t lie to himself. the thing making him choke up was his feelings for you, which had been shoved down for so long that they seem to have compressed themselves into a little ball that was now trying to escape through peter’s esophagus. well, shit!

by the time he had made it to the kitchen with the rest of the project in his arms, you were already perched on the countertop, swinging your legs contentedly and chewing your sandwich, which was decidedly not squished down real flat. your face lit up when you saw peter and you waved enthusiastically; in doing so, you knocked down a couple of the figures that you’d set down behind you tumbling to the ground.

“shit! peter! oh god,” you squeaked, putting down your sandwich on the wax paper and trying to scramble off the counter. peter dropped his bag on the ground and came to help you down, grabbing your waist and lifting you up before softly resting your feet on the floor. you giggled; his hands on your waist were tickling you. he smirked, realizing his opportunity to instigate a tickle war.

“don’t even th-” you warned him before your eyes widened as you remembered what you had come down for.

the two of you raced around the counter, terrified at what you might find. to your relief, the project was in perfect shape. the two of you were panting—peter was heaving with shock still painted on his face while you had your hand clutching the fabric of your shirt over your heart.

“i can’t breathe,” you confessed, laughing through your gasps as you tried to calm yourself down. you collapsed to the ground with a moan.

peter crouched down beside you, picking up one of the figures tentatively and examining it for potential cracks or weak spots. there was nothing; if the two of you hadn’t been there yourselves, you never would’ve been able to tell they’d dropped.

peter held the figure closer to your face, turning the model around so that you could see what he was referring to. “you’re so good,” he marveled, admiring the meticulous glue work that you’d done. he smiled with a sigh. “no one else could do it like you.”

you rolled your eyes. “come here.” you patted the floor next to where you were laying, but instead of joining you, peter grabbed the fallen figures and walked away. you whined.

“i’m coming, give me a second,” peter delicately arranged the fallen figures alongside the ones still on the counter. then he flopped down on the floor next to you, but instead of lying parallel to your body, he dropped his head on your stomach.

“peter!” you cried, smacking his forehead. “ugh, i hate you,” you groaned, trying to sit up so you could shove him off of you.

“no, you don’t,” he rebutted. peter wasn’t going to back down in a fight, so instead of allowing you to sit upright, he rolled the rest of his body on top of yours, effectively flattening you. you wanted to laugh, but your stomach was being pushed down by peter’s back.

“why… are you… so…” you heaved, “heavy?”

peter laughed evilly, rolling his body around so that his back was no longer on you; rather, so that you were stomach-to-stomach. he propped himself up on his elbows, letting his chest hover over yours. he smirked as he watched you grumble from underneath him. “i gotcha,” he whispered, face just a few inches from yours.

“why is this your go-to when fucking with me,” you poked his cheek with exasperation, making no effort to do so gently. “there are literally an infinite amount of things you could do to me and it’s always the one that ends up with me sore and unable to breathe.” you kicked your legs around threateningly before peter could open his mouth.

“i have knees and i’m not afraid to use them,” you taunted, deadly serious. you pushed your knee up, dangerously close to his upper thigh.

“nope! i’m done, i’m off! i concede!” he yelled, scrambling to escape. in his frantic movements, he ended up full-force dropping on you with no arms to soften the impact, and you both groaned. you turned your head, to avoid a forehead collision. also to avoid your lips from touching. that may have happened if you hadn’t turned your head, and having lips on lips is not very platonic.

“i swear to god, if you gave me a concussion, i’m gonna-”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?” tony raged, storming into the kitchen with his hands thrown up in the air. “WHERE ARE THE DAMN CHILDREN?”

scott stuck his head out from behind a corner to investigate the drama. (he loved drama.) “oh, your daughter? yeah, last time i saw her was in her room with peter; i think they were changing or something.”

“excuse me?” tony looked furious.

bruce arrived. “no, i actually let them use my lab. didn’t wanna disturb them. they’ve been working really hard on their bio project on reproduction so i just let them have the place to themselves.”

tony’s mouth dropped. “banner, are you shitting me? we all know what happens when two teenagers are alone in a room together! and we all know reproduction project does not mean… what it’s supposed to mean! you just let them? and in the lab too? did they even have safety goggles?”

bucky and sam, who never passed up the opportunity to hear fresh gossip and had crept in a while ago, gave each other knowing grins.

“don’t worry, tony,” sam held back a laugh.

“they’re definitely… safe…” bucky wheezed, the two of them struggling to stay upright as they watched tony’s rage slip into confusion.

natasha strolled in casually. “you got them protection?” she snorted. “cute.”

you and peter were frozen in your places. so frozen, in fact, that peter’s cheeks resembled the flaming red of anna’s hair and your knuckles had gone as pale as elsa’s snow. neither of you wanted to go out and face the crowd, so the two of you stayed extremely quiet as you prayed nobody would look over the counter.

“they’re right there,” clint yelled from his perch, pointing you two out.

tony stalked over, fuming. when he saw the situation, he was no longer fuming, but on fire. “PETER PARKER, GET YOUR STICKY, PUBESCENT HANDS OFF OF MY DAUGHTER.”

“i’m so sorry, m-mr. stark! i- we’re not-”

“it’s not what it looks like!” you exclaimed, pushing peter’s chest in an unsuccessful attempt to get him off of you. curse his perfectly chiseled 6-pack abs and his weird super-spider strength. just fucking move!

as tony panicked, you hissed at peter. “move!” he realized he had remained in place and clambered off you instantly, the two of you crawling over to separate corners to put as much space between your bodies as possible.

the crowd of avengers struggled to hold back their laughter. well, sam and bucky weren’t trying to at all. but the rest of them (unsuccessfully) attempted to stifle their roars.

“does anyone want to explain why i found two children committing unholy acts in the middle of my million-dollar kitchen?” tony seethed.

natasha raised her eyebrows. “you could’ve at least tried to keep it down, you know.”

“but we weren’t even-”

sam rolled his eyes. “no point in excuses not; you weren’t even trying to be discreet.” he pitched his voice up to imitate the two of you badly. “‘peter! oh god!’ ‘i’m coming!’ ‘you’re so good, no one else could do it like you!’”

“c’mon, and in a common area too? it’s my bad i barged into you guys before, but this one’s your fault, dudes.” scott scolded.

tony’s face was almost entirely red. bruce’s face was also red, for a different reason. tony pulled peter up by the collar. the two of them were shaking, also for very different reasons.

“so, not only are you sneaking around with my daughter behind my back,” tony poked peter in the chest. “but you’re doing… you’re doing the nasty with her too? and you have the nerve to defile my kitchen?” he shoved peter off of him, who stumbled backward.

tony kept creeping closer. “i should take away your suit. clearly, you aren’t trustworthy or responsible enough for this. you know, i had a lot of faith in you kid,” tony looked murderous. “and you screwed up big time.” he took a deep breath to compose himself, and his next words were low and threatening. “i don’t want to see you near my daughter ever again.”

you jumped to your feet, furious. “are you insane? peter and i are just friends!”

“oh yeah? explain why you were on top of each other, a- and all the things that sam said!”

your voices had raised considerably since the start of the confrontation. the onlooking avengers no longer found this very funny, and trickled out slowly.

“we’re friends! we’ve always been friends! you guys are just jumping to conclusions because peter just so happens to be a boy and i just so happen to be a girl!” peter had backed away a bit, which gave you the chance to get into your dad’s space.

“i don’t care what you are, there is no way i’m letting my daughter be with some sticky, hormonal, lit-”

“stop!” you shook your head, unbelieved. “stop it! you don’t get to talk about peter that way. peter and i are just friends, we have always been just friends, and we are always going to be just friends. so either you apologize to him, or you can go f-” you hesitated. “you can go fuck off.”

it might’ve been inappropriate timing, but peter’s heart broke.

tony silenced, his eyes narrowing at your outburst. he opened his mouth to snap back, but you grabbed peter’s hand and dragged him off, not bothering to look back. tony angrily stared at your intertwined fingers.

you and peter had retreated to your bedroom, where you slammed the door and threw yourself onto your bed, tears already beginning to well up. peter sat by the foot of your bed, not daring to come any closer.

“i’m sorry,” peter croaked. he instinctively reached out to rub your leg consolingly, but pulled back just as quickly.

“don’t apologize. you didn’t do anything wrong,” you sniffed. “dad’s just being an asshole. a huge asshole. god, he can be so-” you shoved your face into a pillow and screamed. you sat up to face peter. “i’m the one who should be sorry. he- he had no right to treat you like that. absolutely none. and none of the things he said about you were true.”

you tentatively extended both your hands, palms up, and he took them in his. “i think the two of us just have a tendency to get caught up in arguments. we always say things we don’t mean. and i promise, the whole suit thing was a lie. he really loves you, pete. i hope you know that.”

a quiet tear rolled down peter’s cheek. you brushed it off gently. “i just- i don’t know what i would do if i couldn’t see you anymore,” he choked. “and this is all so stupid, you know? it was embarassing, but kind of funny at first, but now i’m realizing-” peter looked down, shaking his head and laughing quietly to himself.

“what is it, peter?”

he looked up at you from beneath wet eyelashes. “i’m realizing that, i guess, i kind of wish what everyone was saying was true.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “you wish dad would take your suit away?”

“no, i mean-”

your eyes widened. “you wanted us to fuck in bruce’s lab? peter, there are some of the world’s deadliest chemicals in there and i have a perfectly functioning bedroo- oh shit.”

the two of you looked at each other wordlessly.

i basically just told peter that i wanted to fuck him in my bedroom.

she literally just told me she wants to fuck me in her bedroom.

“yeah, i mean- no! i mean, yes, your bedroom is definitely safer and more practical but that’s- what i’m trying to say is-” peter stuttered. “yes, i would love to have sex with you! but that’s- holy fuck. oh shit.” peter let go of your hands immediately and practically threw himself off the bed onto the wall. “no! not that i want to have- no, not that i don’t want to, but i was trying to say was that i wish, you know, that we weren’t just friends. like they were saying, you know. or, i guess insinuating. well, they were insinuating that we were having unprotected sex in the lab, but that implies that we weren’t just friends, but that could mean we were just friends with benefits, and i’m not trying to say that i want to be friends with benefits with you-” peter gasped for air.

you interrupted him. “i think i know what you mean.” you swallowed thickly. “remember when i said we were just friends and only ever going to be just friends? and uh, do you remember what i said earlier about saying stuff in the heat of the moment?” peter nodded furiously. “that was just the heat of the moment.”

peter stopped nodding. he looked at you, absolutely lost. you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“i think what we’re both trying to say—or at least, i really hope this is what you’re trying to say too—is that um, neither of us wants to be friends.”

you winced.

“wait, no, that came out wrong. we don’t want to be platonic. or, i don’t, at least. i like you romantically, peter. is this a bad time to say that? considering you just got threatened by my dad for supposedly hooking up with me.”

“no! no, it’s not a bad time. and i like you too, actually. i’ve liked you for a while. i-” peter laughed breathlessly. “i actually kind of thought you were with steve.” he scratched the back of his neck, blushing.

“steve? dude, he’s like 106!”

“i know, i know! i don’t know what i was thinking,” peter huffed.

“c’mere,” you opened your arms for him and he climbed beside you, accepting your embrace. you could feel his warm breath on your face.

“your breath smells like pickles,” you murmured, nestling your head into his chest.

“sorry.”

tony was about to bore holes into the expensive tiled flooring with all of his pacing. bruce was the only one brave enough to come back into the kitchen.

“what do you want?” tony grumbled, refusing to look at the scientist.

“tony, take a look at these models.”

“i don’t want to take a look at whatever it is my daughter and that sinful spider boy produced,” he whined.

“no, look. the figures—they’re not just reproduction. they’re asexual reproduction. a very well-done representation of the mitosis process, actually.” bruce held up some of the models in awe. “these are really well done! letting them use the lab was worth it,” he muttered to himself.

tony raised his head, glaring. “what are you talking ab- oh.”

on the countertop were six intricate replicas of cell division. “this is what you meant by ‘reproductive project?’” tony whispered, horrified.

“i mean, i wasn’t exactly sure, but i figured-”

“oh my god,” tony paled. “i can’t believe i thought- all this time it was mitosis- god, and these models are beautiful too…” his jaw clenched, thinking back to the things he had said as he yelled at you and peter.

bruce sighed, giving tony a pointed look. the billionaire couldn’t meet his eyes.

“don’t look at me like that,” tony whined. “in my defense, all the evidence was stacked against them! what was i supposed to do?”

“hear them out?” bruce raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by tony’s immature self-soothing methods.

tony hid his face in his hands. “she must be so upset with me now. and the spider boy… jeez, i’m a fucking douche, aren’t i?”

bruce patted tony on the back consolingly. “well, you heard the girl. you can either apologize or fuck off, and i think you’ve tried and failed at fucking off. so you might as well go with the first option.” the scientist walked away, leaving tony alone to soak in his own guilt.

bruce is right. i can’t ever own up to my mistakes, can i? first i make my daughter patch things up with steve for a comment that i made, and then i go and accuse her of something she didn’t do without even giving her the chance to speak? god, if i had just shut up for a minute, she could’ve explained everything and none of this would have happened.

tony rubbed his temples, exhaling heavily as he found himself standing in front of your door. he knocked softly, but heard no verbal response. maybe you had left the tower? before he could ask FRIDAY for your location, he heard the shuffling of sheets. oh no, did i make her cry?

tony cracked open the door and peered in. “favorite spawn? are you there?”

when he opened the door fully, he watched as you and peter peeled yourselves away from each other again, breathless and flushed. his eyes flickered between the two of you before he noticed your puffy lips and your avoided eye contact.

“peter parker, have you been kis-” tony raised his hands and pinched his fingers together, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to calm himself down. he tried talking again, but slowly and more thoughtfully. “using context clues, i have come to the hypothesis that the two of you had previously been k- kissing.” he fought the urge to gag.

“i also observe that the two of you are on my daughter’s bed. alone, with the door closed. and that is… okay. because… the right to privacy is protected by the 14th amendment. unfortunately.” he said the last word under his breath. you and peter looked at each other, perplexed.

“in the kitchen, i discovered six models of… the mitosis sequence. footnote: they are very well constructed. uh, i realize now that perhaps i had… overreacted. and unjustly threatened peter. and also jumped to conclusions. and i also had not trusted you. all of which are… mistakes… that i made. and for that, i am… i am… s-sorry.”

you raised your eyebrows. “did you just… apologize?”

tony nodded his head hesitantly. you jumped out of bed, making your way over to him. tony gulped. this is it. this is the end.

you slapped tony across the face.

“oh my god!” you screamed. “i’m so sorry! holy- i’m so sorry, dad! i didn’t mean that at all, i thought you were a hologram! i was trying to see if my hand would go through, you know?”

tony chuckled. “i- i probably deserved that.” he rubbed his cheek which was now growing pink.

peter hopped off the bed to stand hesitantly behind you, not fully confident that tony wasn’t going to castrate him.

“so, you and my daughter, huh?” tony crossed his arms, leaning his weight onto one foot.

“y-yes, mr. stark.”

tony sucked his teeth and sighed. despite his nerves, peter straightened his back and came to stand firmly beside you. you looped your pinky around his.

“well, as you are aware, i do have multiple suits with blasters capable of melting iron, ironically.” peter steeled himself. “and you are currently standing in my billion-dollar tower surrounded by earth’s mightiest heroes who will not hesitate to decimate you should anything happen to my daughter.” peter gulped.

“but i am also aware that you are…” tony pursed his lips in resignation. “you have proven yourself more than capable on multiple accounts, and i was wrong to question you.” tony wrung his hands. “and you have saved my daughter and your classmates and even that asshole teacher about four times now. and i see the way you look at her; how you’ve always looked at her—which by the way, is a really embarrassing, dopey look on you, boy—and my head was too far up my ass to realize that you two are big boys and girls now.”

tony sniffed emotionally, blinking back proud dad tears. “and obviously my daughter doesn’t need any protecting, because she’s a stark and she could whoop your ass in her sleep, but i know how much you care for her and i know you’ll look out for each other. so… i give you my blessing.”

you looked confused. “dad, you know we’re not getting married, right?”

tony took a step back and waved his hands around. “dear god, no! i don’t want to hear about marriage until at least 30 years later! you guys are too young to be mouth mashing anyways and i’m already being very lenient with letting you have the door closed!”

“uh, thank you, mr. stark. it really means a lot.” peter bit his lip to hold back what you knew was going to be a brilliant grin.

“don’t get used to it, kid.” tony rubbed his hands together. “well, in a few years or so i’ll have bruce teach you two about the birds and the bees. for now, um, wash your hands for at least 20 seconds, kids.” tony shot you two thumbs up. “alright, peace out.”

when tony’s footsteps receeded, you turned to peter and threw your arms around his neck. “you have a look for me, huh?” you spoke into peter’s shoulder.

“i guess i do. i guess i always have. you’re hard not to look at, do you know that?”

peter could feel the vibrations and your warm breath as you laughed into his shirt.

“no, i don’t think you know,” he insisted. he threaded his fingers through your hair and closed his eyes, comfortable. “everybody sees you- you’re stunning, and not just in the physical way. you have this weird talent—it’s like you’re a light—and everything is just so much better with you. y’know, i hated coffee until you made it for me. and i dreaded spanish until i found out you were in my class, so i think… i think i’ve lo- liked you, felt this way for you, for longer than i’ve known.”

he could feel your lips curve into a smile. “you’re such a goddamn sap, pete,” you muttered, nuzzling his chest. “you know i hate sappy stuff. but i could make an exception for you.”

“oh really?” he placed one purposeful kiss on the crown of your head. “i think…” he began leaving kisses more sporadically until he reached your temple, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose. “i think that i’ll just have to be extra sappy. you know, to see how much you like me.” he pulled you away from his chest and held you at an arms length with a smile that could rival the sun.

“and in that case…” peter got down on one knee. you gasped theatrically.

peter pressed his palms together and opened them like a ring box. “will you be my girlfriend?”

you wiped away fake tears and you squealed, “yes!”

a distant voice that sounded suspiciously like tony’s interrupted the romantic proposal. “i said 30 years until marriage!”

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

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indyanapolis898 · 4 months

Text

Mastermind

Peter Parker x f!reader

Synopsis: Peter has a crush on you from afar. One day you ask him to tutor you and things go from there.

Note: This really doesn't follow any specific canon from the movies.

"You know staring at Y/N won't make her like you."

Peter's head shot up at the sound of a voice behind him, that of MJ's.

"W-what are you talking about?" Peter chuckled awkwardly, doing a horrible job of lying.

"Me and Ned notice how much you watch Y/N. You always bring up any interaction you two have- and so much more! You like her. Just admit it, nerd," MJ explained amid the noisy school cafeteria.

"So what if I do?" Peter shrugged as MJ sat next to him.

"You should make a move- oh wait- you're too scared," MJ said with a sly smirk, begging him to fight back, which he did.

"Nervous? I'm an Avenger! I don't get nervous!" Peter hissed.

"Then go talk to her, Avenger" MJ shrugged like it was the only obvious option.

"Well- I- I just don't want her to think I'm weird."

"Well, then you're out of luck in that regard," she joked dryly. "You two used to be close. Why can't you spark up a conversation about, like, the past?"

"'Cause it's random, and also, we were friends in middle school! That was a while ago, MJ!"

"OK, Parker, I give up. Enjoy your futile people-watching."

Peter watched as MJ walked away to the lunch line. She wasn't wrong. He was too scared to even consider being near Y/N.

The boy sighed, going back to eating his lunch after you left the room.

___

"Alrighty!" Mr. Harrington clapped his hands together. "We have a new member for this semester's Academic Decathlon!"

The club whispered among themselves in anticipation of who it could be. Peter glanced up from his book when, of course, you entered the classroom with a new copy of the textbook.

"I'm sure you all know Y/N, so welcome her into the club and help her get acquainted with the material for today's practice."

You smiled shyly at the group, waving and going to take a seat in the open chair next to Flash.

Peter silently groaned, letting his head fall onto the desk. Of course, it was you, and of course, you had to sit next to Flash. Flash had an obvious crush on you as well.

"Peter. Wanna start off today's practice?" Mr. Harrington asked, staring directly at Peter as he lifted his head off his desk. Everyone was looking at him.

Peter sighed, standing up with his textbook to go to the podium to call the questions.

The first round went by fast. You answered three times, getting all answers right. Peter could feel himself smile every time you rang the bell.

Peter tried his best to compliment you when you answered during the second round.

At one point, Peter asked a question the Flash rang in for. Peter watched as the boy mouthed to you: watch this.

Flash got the question wrong, making you slightly giggle. Peter chucked, as did the rest of the class, at Flash's misplaced confidence. However, Peter wasn't laughing at Flash this time- he was laughing because you laughed. Peter wanted to cling on to any bit of you he could. He was glad Flash's terrible attempt to show off failed.

After a few more rounds, Peter traded off with another student. Peter didn't want to be like Flash and do a flashy show-off of his skills, but he did want to impress you.

Peter heard the first question- ringing in as soon as he could. He wasn't confident with his odds but gave a shaky answer, which was revealed to be correct.

Peter smiled slightly. When he glanced to the left, you were smiling at him, presumably because he aced the question. He smiled back at you, hoping this was some sort of connection. You were noticing him!

If that was what it took, he could do it. Peter answered every question he could, getting almost all right. He got a thumbs-up from you once after a question!

___

After practice ended, he was packing his bag to leave when you approached him. Peter felt his heart speeding up dramatically.

"Hey, Peter. Love the jacket," you started things off, making Peter smile and examine his jacket, vowing to wear it more often.

"Thank you. I... like your shirt. Um- you did good on your first day," Peter gave a tightlipped smile, trying to act normal.

"Thanks, but you were on fire! Like seriously, some of those questions were insane," you gushed, grinning the whole time.

"Oh, wow, uh, thank you!" Peter stuttered out, causing you to giggle. "You gave great answers, too!" He rushed to follow up.

"Yeah, about that... those were the bare minimum. I joined this club to help raise my grades. Clearly you know your stuff, so... I have the biggest favor to ask."

Peter raised his brows. "Uh, yeah, what's that?"

"So, it's OK if you say no because it's so random, but could you tutor me in some of the subjects covered here? I could really use the help, but again it's OK if y-"

"I'll do it," Peter agreed quickly, blushing at how eager he sounded. You grinned largely.

"Seriously? 'Cause I could pay you if that's necessary."

"Y/N, you don't have to pay anything. Honestly, I mean, it's the least I can do for the girl who defended me from Jose in 8th grade," Peter recalled a memory from their past, mentally punching himself for saying something that most likely meant nothing to her.

"You still remember that? Wow, I didn't know I could even make an impact like that," you said, surprised in a good way.

Peter decided to roll with it. "Uh, yeah, I mean, Jose was a jerk, so I was just glad someone stood up for me. So, uh, yeah," Peter awkwardly chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Anytime. But yeah, thank you so much for agreeing. When are you free to go over the material?"

Peter supposed one evening without Spider-Man wouldn't hurt. "Tonight," he said right away. "Um, like five?"

"Can do. At the library?"

"Absolutely."

"See you then, Peter. Thanks again," you waved at him as you left the class to go to your next.

___

"So, you're telling me that all you had to do was be nerdy, and she just came up to you?" MJ recounted Peter's story in a tone laced with disbelief.

"Yes! Seriously. If you didn't have to miss today's practice for your re-do test, you would've seen it! So, believe it or not, I've gotta get to the library soon and tutor Y/N," Peter said cockily, standing up from the barstool at the cafe MJ part-timed at.

MJ just rolled her eyes but gave a genuine smile. "Good luck. Don't screw it up."

"Thanks? I'll try not to."

With that, Peter slung his bag onto his back and left the shop, library-bound.

___

The library wasn't awfully busy that weekday, making it easy to find a table in a corner. Peter laid his books and notebooks out, realizing you wouldn't know where he was, nor did he have your number to text you.

Everything worked out, however, when you wandered into the back section he was sitting, looking lost. Your eyes lit up at the sight of him, making Peter's stomach churn in a good way.

You walked with a purpose over to the table, sitting your stuff down. "I was looking all over for you," you grinned, not meaning it in a guilt-tripping way.

Peter realized he actually had to reply instead of staying in a daydream. "Oh- yeah. I sat here and realized you might not be able to find me, but luckily you did."

"Yeah, it only took like, seven different aisles," you laughed before opening your notebook.

Peter couldn't tell if he was just nervous or if he just loved the sound of your laugh, but his heart raced.

"So, I was thinking... we could piggyback off what we did in practice today?"

"Sounds good. I'm sure whatever I learn will be good when you're teaching it," you said, laying your chin on the palm of your hand.

Peter could feel his face heat up. He ducked his head down to the textbook and chuckled. "Yeah... I- uh- just start in on page five right here."

For thirty minutes, Peter was able to impart some knowledge your way. After you two finished a chapter, you turned to Peter with a closed-mouth smile. "This has been really helpful, thank you."

Peter frowned. "You're done?"

You continued smiling. "Just for today, yeah. But I'm really hungry... do you wanna get something to eat?"

Peter perked up at the invitation to continue spending time together. "Yeah, I'd love to!" He said very excitedly, to which you just giggled.

"OK, c'mon. I'll show you this really good Thai place I like down the block."

You and Peter collected your things, exiting the library together to walk down the sidewalk to the restaurant of choice.

"So, you had that Stark Internship, right?"

"Yeah- still do, actually. I'm still just the young guy, though."

"Hey, they'll realize what a dedicated worker you are, and when they do, they'll have to give you more opportunities."

"You think so?"

"You seem like you have a great work ethic, Peter, so yeah, I do think so."

Peter just grinned, looking down at the sidewalk. You were making him nervous.

___

The restaurant you two entered was moderately nice for a casual New York City restaurant.

You both ordered at the counter and then sat at an empty table.

Peter wanted to try and flirt, but he knew he'd be super awkward and make things weird. Nevertheless, he still attempted to gain your favor.

"You caught on really fast with the Academic stuff. It was like you already knew it! So, I guess you're a natural."

You looked away and grinned. "Thank you. I- um- guess I just needed a few reminders, is all."

Peter cocked a brow, but their food was placed in front of them at that moment. The two ate, sharing conversation about middle school and how annoying some of their classes were now.

Somehow, the topic got moved on to Flash.

"You know Flash has a thing for you," Peter decided to throw bait into the water as the pair left the restaurant, being that they had finished their food.

You furrowed your brows. "Yeah, I know. We actually have two classes together- three counting Decathalon now. He hits on me every day. It gets tiring really fast."

"What?" Peter exclaimed in fake shock. "You don't appreciate all his futile attempts to be a womanizer?"

You laughed and shook your head. "Crazy, right? I might be the only one who doesn't. I just- I just already have my eyes on someone else."

"Oh," Peter mumbled aloud, regretting how disappointed he sounded. "Um... is it weird to ask-"

"Who it is?" you cut him off. "Yeah, I was hoping you would've guessed by now," you stopped walking, Peter doing the same, peering at you with confusion.

"I-I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be invasive. I-"

"It's you, Peter. I've been trying to flirt with you and give you hints, hoping you'd make a move," you chuckled to fill the air.

"Oh... Oh!" Peter put a hand to his chest. "You," he pointed at you, then back at himself. "Like me?"

"Yes!" You desperately hoped he felt the same.

"I- woah. I really like you too, Y/N," Peter sputtered out.

"Really? Because I was starting to think my plan failed."

"Plan?"

"You said it yourself in the restaurant... I already knew that stuff we were learning. I don't need tutoring. I just decided to ask you so... I dunno," you looked away embarrassed. "So we could do something outside of school."

When you looked back up, Peter was grinning widely. "You made a plan just to be with me?"

You nodded.

"That's- wow. I was trying to drop hints all day too, but I suck at anything flirting-wise. I was just excited you kept asking to do stuff, but you planned this all along. You made the dominoes fall until we were here."

"I didn't know this would be how I confessed, but yeah. I don't need tutoring when I'm the mastermind," you joked and shrugged.

"Maybe it's my turn to do something..." Peter looked into your eyes, searching your face. "Can I kiss you?"

You leaned in, letting that be your answer. His lips met yours as you two kissed in the darkening evening. The cool Queens air hit the side of your face as you pulled away, catching your breath.

"Was that good? Because I'm definitely not an expert."

You just giggled. "Yes, it was great, Peter."

"Can I walk you home?" Peter pursed his lips, waiting for an answer.

You nodded and thanked him graciously with another kiss. With that, you two set off toward your apartment as the street lights flickered on in the chilled air.

___

"...And then we kissed. Boom! In your face!"

MJ rolled her eyes and laughed while Ned clapped Peter on the back.

"Dude! You got a girlfriend!"

Peter chuckled at Ned's enthusiasm. Peter's phone dinged at that moment. It was a text from you.

"Gotta go, guys. Peter has a second date today with Y/N."

"Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?"

"Yep, deal with it!" Peter called, already out the door of the cafe.

___

You were waiting at the subway station. Peter jogged down the stairs, joining you to enter the train and go ice skating.

You reached your hand out, Peter taking it as you two entered the train.

It was only the second date, but you knew Peter was going to make you happy. You simply looked up at Peter, smiling, which he returned with his signature grin.

The train's doors shut, and you two were carried away down the tracks, ready for what was to come.

#mcu peter x reader #peter parker x female reader #peter parker x reader #mcu peter parker #tom holland peter parker #tom holland #tom holland x reader #fluff #first kiss #peter is oblivious #flash thompson #mj watson #ned leeds #fanfic #fanfiction #cross posted on ao3 #Spotify

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