#peter parker fics

[shawnxstyles]

panty stealer 2

DATE: JULY 12, 2023

summary: after the forbidden and surprising night of the ‘break-in’, you couldn’t get your mind off of peter. luckily, he couldn’t either, and finds his way back into your bedroom to invite you to a party.

requested: so many times yes!

words: 11.2k!! woah

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, slight oral, masturbation, vibrator], praise kink, degrading kink, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, mentions of marjuana/alcohol, and fluff

note: this was the most anticipated and loved of all my writings! i’m so thankful for everyone who liked part 1, i just had to write a part 2. enjoy!!! sorry if the gif is all weird again

—

so many thoughts flew through peter’s mind as he swung through the streets of massachusetts: what homework or projects he might have, you, class, praying flash doesn’t do anything stupid while he’s gone, you, hoping ned doesn’t have a panic attack from flash’s idiocy, and you you you.

he thought of your body and the way it felt underneath him while he pushed himself deep inside of you. and the whimpers you let out as you came. and the sound of your laughter through the palm of your hand. and the smile on your face as he kissed your forehead. he wished he had kissed you longer. he wished he had stayed longer. forever.

was that dramatic? maybe.

you were a recurring thought that never seemed to cease from his brain.

peter sees you around school sometimes—only on the days you two have class together. neither of you made an effort to approach the other, almost as if you expected the other person to do it first. you both sat far apart from each other, too afraid to move seats around and make it obvious. but peter’s gaze fell heavily over your shoulder too many times for you to not feel it.

every time you shifted around to face the back of the room, you watched him avert his wandering eyes to anywhere but you. it made you smile and giggle quietly behind your hand, and of course peter’s hearing picked up on the angelic sounds, causing his heart to skip against his ribs.

and then class would begin and you’d have to wait until next class to see him again.

peter wanted to go see you—talk to you. he really did. but he was so busy with school work and being spider-man that he didn’t have a night off. mid-terms were coming up, but that also meant thanksgiving break was in the rear view mirror. after halloween of course.

in college, halloween was like any other day. you didn’t get a day off to trick-or-treat and hang out with your friends. instead, you were given a pile of tests the week before.

not much of a treat, huh?

outside of college, however, people threw the best parties that night. one of those people obviously being peter. luckily, halloween was on a saturday, so everyone would be done with mid-terms and ready to party their asses off.

flash needed everyone and their mom to come for him to be satisfied (well, maybe not their moms). he’s going to blow up everyone’s phone telling them to invite every person they know. peter didn’t care who showed up. he knows that halloween is one of the biggest parties of the year (besides fourth of july). peter only wanted—no needed—one person to be there.

—

knowing it’s been weeks since he’s seen you and the party was only in a few days, peter had to come and see you. he had to make sure you got the invite. it was difficult to fit visiting you into his schedule, but like always, he made it work.

you were becoming important to him, a priority.

he would only be in and out because who knows what would happen if peter was caught in there? last time, flash got his car hit with a baseball bat. flash was so mad that he completely forgot about peter’s dare, even though it was the whole point of sneaking into the house. it was deserved, but peter didn’t want any of that happening to him. so, peter promised himself no funny business unless you were in his room.

ugh, but peter really didn’t want you around the frat boys. they were way too much.

the sky was pitch black besides the hint of stars that were sprinkled in the sky. it was a chilly, fall night that made peter want to cozy up and pass out in his bed. but he had more important things to do first.

after a boring night of patrol, peter sneaks into his room through his opened window. without making too much noise (unlike flash), he quietly changes out of his suit and packs it into his closet in a box labeled books. peter is certain that no one, especially flash, would ever open that box. so he fixes his appearance by adjusting his shirt in the mirror, checking his teeth, and messing with his wild hair. on impulse, he throws on a cap to better hide himself. with that, he jumps out his window once again, shutting it closed on his way down with his sticky fingers.

like he’s done once before, peter sneaks across the street to the forbidden sorority house. he stares at the windows; all darkened bedrooms, except for one. peter wasn’t one hundred percent sure that that single lit bedroom was yours, but he was willing to test his luck.

for you.

peering at his surroundings, peter flips his hat backwards and slowly crawls up the side of the house. his fingers latch onto the windowsill as he very slowly lifts his head over it. he notices that it’s slightly cracked open before his gaze is seering through the glass.

you have got to be fucking joking.

your body lays sprawled across your bed as a delicate hand wanders between your parted legs and slides your infamous panties to the side. your torso is covered in the same mit t-shirt from that night, draped over your lavish figure tantalizingly. a laptop plays a pornographic scene of some sort, headphones plugged in one ear.

god, he wanted to touch you so bad.

he wondered if you were thinking of him. recalling how his fingers caressed down your body and how they touched every inch of your skin. but you couldn’t be, right? it’s been weeks and peter hasn’t made a move. you’ve probably moved on from that night like nothing happened. peter should probably go, leave you alone during such an intimate time—

“mm, peter,” your angelic voice hums a quiet moan that was only loud enough for peter’s hearing. peter feels his cock twitch needily at your noises, hissing to himself as you whimper his name. “feels so good.”

well, that’s just like a goddamn invite.

using every skill he has learned from being spider-man, peter yanks open the window and creeps inside. you were too emerged in your fantasies; eyes screwed closed as you listened attentively to the ongoing video. you failed to notice peter’s looming presence over your bed, even with only one headphone in. your noises continued, spurring peter’s next actions on.

without saying a word, peter lays his hand over yours, which is rubbing cute circles over your clit. your movements freeze and your eyes fly open. your mind doesn’t register the sight before you, so your breathing stops and your lungs get ready to scream out every millimeter of oxygen in you. but peter slips his other hand over your mouth before you could alert the entire neighborhood of his presence.

peter could sense the erratic beating of your heart as your tense muscles very gradually soften once you realize it’s him. once you’ve calmed down enough to not scream, you take your free hand and lower peter’s from your mouth.

he came back.

“p-peter, i didn't know you were coming,” you weren't sure what to say. your mind was still spinning like a top toy and your heart was beating like a galloping horse. your skin was burning underneath him, full of embarrassment and immense desire. “a head’s up would have been nice…”

“i’m sorry for the interruption…” peter says, eyes dragging down your body. his hand moves above yours gradually. you inhale sharply as peter guides your hand.

“you don’t seem sorry,” you retaliate as the friction from your hand with the help of peter’s begins to rile your body up again. you feel the wetness seep from your cunt, aching and needy for more. for more of him.

“how come you’re so wet?” peter completely ignores you, and removes your hand from your pussy with a gentle toss. peter didn’t expect anything tonight, but he especially didn’t expect to find his little angel with her hands between her legs. you gasp when his fingers are directly touching you, instantly clenching around nothing. his fingers are a bit chilly, in contrast to your flamy skin. “is it from the video?”

“n-no,” you stutter between needy pants as his fingers threaten to sink into your pulsing hole. your legs spread wider for him, inviting him closer to you. you slam the laptop down with shaky fingers to show him that you no longer need it.

“then what’s got you so wet?” two fingers dip into your cunt to persuade you to talk, but it’s doing the opposite. you bite your lip to hide the traitorous moan that threatens to escape. heavy arousal coats your labia while he pumps in and out of you easily, waiting for an answer.

“i was thinking of you,” you admit, hips rolling into his touch greedily. “wondering if you’d ever come back.”

peter’s heart saddens at the thought of you waiting for him. this whole time peter assumed you forgot about him, when in reality, it was the exact opposite. and there was sticky evidence to prove it.

“i’m right here, angel. what were you thinking about?” his body leans down hovering over yours, causing your body to sink into the mattress.

“thought about you climbing through the window, just like you did. imagined you’d fuck me, like you promised,” you moan quietly between words, trying to sound cohesive. hearing you say such vulgar words has peter’s cock twitching in his pants. with peter, you weren’t afraid to be straight to the point and tell him what you want. peter admired that, and would probably do anything you asked him to.

“with time, i’m a man of my word, baby.”

close and personal, peter interlocks his lips with yours. your frolicking hands drift to his warm neck, caressing the nape as you melt into him. peter inserts a third finger into you, eliciting a muffled moan against his lips. the action opens up your mouth and allows peter to effortlessly glide his tongue inside.

his fingers ram into you at a deliriously fast pace, causing your mind to haze into a euphoric state. it was impressive how peter could be kissing you unforgettably, but also skillfully pleasuring you with his hands. peter seemed like a man full of secrets and skills that you were dying to know.

who is peter parker?

fogging up your mind, your muscles tense and your back continues to arch until your stomach is touching his. your legs threaten to close from the overwhelming pleasure from his fingers, but you battle to keep them wide. his mouth trails down your neck and attacks the sensitive skin below your ear. teeth digging into your lip, you withhold all of your noises that peter so desperately wants to hear.

“if we were alone, you wouldn’t be allowed to be quiet,” he husks in your ear before trailing further down your neck. his voice was every level of attractive, pushing you closer to the edge. peter continued to check off all of your invisible boxes of turn ons.

“i know,” your voice was delicate and strained, and peter could tell you were close.

your walls gripped his fingers eagerly, and your stomach tightened up. it was embarrassing that you were so close so fast, but you couldn’t hold it any longer. once his fingers curled one last time inside of you, you were a goner.

“come for me, baby,” he demanded quietly, so you did.

your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, drenched in blissful euphoria. peter worked you through your high by softly rubbing your legs and coaxing every last drop out of you until you were sensitive to the touch.

without having to ask, peter lowers himself to your mound and yanks your panties down and off your legs. he then cleans up your mess with his skillful tongue, licking and slurping all of your juices. your sensitivity causes you to be squirmy, but he’s done before you know it and then you’re left reminiscing.

although he was right in front of you, you missed his touch already. you missed him inside of you because it made you feel connected, intertwined. you didn’t want him to leave you again for weeks and come back on a random week day. or even worse, never again at all. you hoped that it didn’t become a pattern because you were getting attached to him, whether you liked it or not (you did), and that wasn’t a healthy pattern to be attached to.

peter’s body hovers over yours once again, held up by his muscular arms. your eyes attach to every detail on his face, admiring and memorizing his features in fear that he’ll leave again. he gazes at you like a living daydream, ethereal underneath him. one of his hands caresses your supple cheek, lightly swiping away your frisky hair. you practically purr into his touch, melting at his gentleness.

“peter,” you start, voice as fragile as thin glass.

“y/n.”

“please, don’t leave,” you insist in a whisper, hoping he’d stay. but you know he can’t.

“you know i can’t,” he says as you begin to sit up. see?

“when will i see you again? you can’t just… show up at any time,” you huff, sitting up straight as peter takes a seat beside you.

“i know i know…” peter thinks for a moment before reaching into his pocket. “here. you can put your number in my phone.”

your heart skips a simple beat. you extend your arm to snatch your phone on your nightstand before hesitatingly grabbing peter’s. you switch devices and enter your numbers. you label your name as ‘y/n :)’ and then you trade back phones, but don’t look at them.

“c’mere,” peter says and you curl your body into his. his warmth was addicting and cozy, and could easily make a great pillow for the future. “i’m sorry for not coming back sooner. i’ve been pretty busy with… everything i guess. i should’ve told you.” with your head cradled in his chest, he kisses your rumpled hair genuinely.

a sweet apology. could he get any better? is he just a figment of my imagination?

you lift up your head so you could see him looking down on you. “apology accepted, parker. but i feel like i’m being manipulated with your kisses.”

“how was i supposed to know you’re a sucker for forehead kisses?”

“everyone is a sucker for forehead kisses!” you whisper yell causing him to laugh wholeheartedly as quiet as possible. he kisses your head a few more times, making your heart full of affection and care.

how did you get lucky enough for peter parker to fall into your life? or more specifically, break into your house on two accounts?

“you never fulfilled your promise,” you said, referring to him having sex with you. don’t misunderstand, you were very grateful for what he gave you, but to be direct… you were greedy, needy, and missed his dick.

no time for beating around the bush.

“like i said, with time, i’m a man of my word,” which, in other words, means he’s not having sex with you. tonight, at least. you can’t help the small frown that appears on your lips.

“how much time? a girl has needs, you know,” you rose your eyebrows and pointed towards the closed laptop. peter puffed under his breath, causing you to smirk.

“there is a party this saturday… at my place. you should come,” peter informs.

“should i come or do you want me to come?” it was a test.

“if this is some sexual innuendo, yes—”

“jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, peter!” you roll your eyes and softly shove his chest, but a smile never ceases from your face. that only causes him to wrap his arms around you and squeeze you harder against his firm body.

he must live at the gym.

“you started talking about sex first!”

he’s not wrong.

“of course, i want you to come to the party, y/n,” peter smiles as his eyes wandering over every inch of your face. in any other scenario, gorging eyes would’ve made you feel insecure, but peter’s made you feel all flushed and tingly. “you’re the only person i want to be there.”

your smile enlarges even more and a rush of heat crawls up your neck. instead of kissing his lips for being such a romantic goofball, you decide to pull off his backward cap and kiss his forehead. the rosy blush that cascades his pale cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed.

“see! everyone likes forehead kisses!”

just as you say those words, peter hears footsteps padding across the hallway. he really didn’t want to leave you again, but he also really didn’t want to get caught. he sighs and you notice his change of demeanor, causing another frown to arise on your lips.

“you have to go, don’t you?”

“i’m sorry—”

“it’s okay. i’m glad you came. i’ll see you on saturday,” you smile genuinely and kiss his forehead again. he smiles, but catches your luscious lips instead. peter almost forgot about the footsteps, always lost in the moment with you.

he is obsessed with kissing you.

however, the moment is too short for both of your liking. peter struggles to pull himself away from you, but does because each footstep in the hallway is like a warning. with a finally kiss to your forehead, peter smiles endearingly before approaching your window, ready to jump out.

“oh, and peter?” as his hands are on the window, he turns around to look at you. “don’t forget these.”

you fling your panties at him and his quick reflexes have no problem catching them. you take his hat that he left on your bed and lay it on top of your head. peter cannot describe the fond feeling that bubbles up in his chest at the sight of you in his apparel. he’s sure he would die seeing you in his clothes if he’s starstruck from you in his cap.

a familiar heated flush blossoms on his cheeks as he lightly shakes his head with a few chuckles.

“you’re ridiculously cute,” is the last thing he says before he slides out the window and jumps down onto the ground.

ridiculously cute. you’ve never been called that before. are you surprised that you like it a lot? nope.

you still don’t understand how he doesn’t break a few limbs from jumping out of a two-story house, but again, that’s just one of the many things he’s skillful at. you wondered what else he was capable of. like you said, he seemed like a man full of secrets. some people thought of curiosity as a curse, but you saw it as a pathway to unknown opportunities.

not even a minute after peter left, there’s a knock at your bedroom door. you answer, skeptical, and one of your friends walks in.

“i know we’re not allowed to have any guys here, so you get kind of lonely, but when you’re watching porn at midnight can you please turn it down? i could hear it at the end of the hall,” she rubs her eyes and elicits a yawn. your eyes widen and you swallow thickly at the idea of the entire house hearing you.

you really thought you did a good job at being quiet…

“uh, yeah, sure thing,” you half smile as you apologize and wish her a better goodnight. you flick your lamp off and shift comfortably on your bed.

you gaze at the ceiling and imagine peter’s face above yours. you envisioned his lips, his cute nose, and each precious beauty mark on his face. it was easier to fall asleep knowing what his phone number was, and that saturday was only three days away.

—

those three days could not have been longer. the party was your motivation to wake up every day and go to class, eager as ever. you only saw peter once at school and that was not enough to satisfy the yearning you had inside of you. that yearning was also like an alarm clock that sprung you out of bed at eight a.m. on saturday.

you knew you had hours to waste, so you did all the things you had been procrastinating on: laundry, tidying up, few assignments due next week, and you even dusted parts of the house. yeah, you were that bored.

you weren’t sure what time the party started, but you would probably be able to tell from your window. you had no idea what you were going to wear even though you were thinking about it since wednesday. you believed you had a good sense of style, at least to your liking, but you don’t have all the clothes that you wish you had. living on a college budget wasn’t easy, but you made do.

at this point, it was only two in the afternoon, and you were about to run into the wall until your head was bleeding just to waste more time. this was the downside to having a ridiculously big crush on someone; the inescapable waiting. when crushing, time seems prolonged when you’re without them. but when you’re with them, the world seems to stop completely. it’s like nothing matters but just you two.

you remembered back to wednesday when peter was sitting on your bed and holding you snug against his body while you talked about such a mundane thing like a party invite. you could never erase the feeling of his kiss, his lips forever etched onto yours. the kiss felt like hours, but it was merely a minute before he had to pull away. you imagined what it would be like to just be with him without worrying about anything else. these daydreams cause the yearning in your chest to expand like a balloon, which is never going to satisfyingly explode until you’re in his arms again.

without making a big deal out of it, you needed a good outfit. so, you knocked on one of your “sister’s” doors. you weren’t a fan of the term “sorority sisters,” especially because none of these girls felt like sisters to you. yes, you were all decent friends who went to parties and went out to eat once a month together. but you weren’t as close to them as you were with your friends back at home. you missed them, but you’ve all moved on with your lives.

violet answers with a cheery come in and you walk into her room. you hint that you’re looking for a nice dress for the party tonight.

“i’m glad you came to me first,” she smiles as she stands up from her bed. she heads toward her closet, which is practically pouring out clothes that would laugh at yours. she had so many colors and choices, it was almost overwhelming and you weren’t even the one really choosing. “so. who’s the guy?”

“what? who said anything about a guy?”

“the fact that you want a nice dress for a frat party. you’ve never cared before, so it has to be a guy. so who is it?”

“it’s no one in particular,” you lie easily as you sit on her bed. she sifts through each dress in deep thought.

“so, you want a nice dress to catch any guy’s attention? i don’t buy it,” violet shakes her head, causing her long, black hair to wave.

not that you really care if she believes you, but what’s a believable lie? you know she’ll probably nag you about it the entire night if you don’t give her a valid excuse.

“if i’m being honest, i’m trying to, you know,” you raise your eyebrows high, motioning your hands as she whips around to face you. she nods as a knowing smirk grows on her lips. you weren’t technically lying–you did want to get laid, but you only had one person in mind that could do the job.

“i see. that’s all you needed to say,” she flips through more dresses before pulling out a short red one that makes your eyes widen. it looked nice, too nice, and you didn’t want to ruin anything she had because you’d probably spend the next few months paying to replace it. “let’s get you ready.”

“but the party is in–”

“nuh uh, we’re getting ready now. also, we’re making it into a costume.”

–

for once, you’re glad you listened to violet about getting ready early because it was already six o’clock by the time you guys were both finished. you somehow gave in to the idea of her dolling you up into some kind of sexy spider woman? you didn’t really know. she thought the red and blue accented your skin nicely. violet did what she wanted. you didn’t even plan on wearing a costume in the first place, so you didn’t really mind.

your hair was down and wavy. you had her short red dress on and white fishnet tights. she also gave you royal blue heels. she painted black webs on your eyes with eyeliner while you wore a matching red lipstick. it was a lot more than you expected to see on yourself when you looked in her vanity mirror. hopefully, the look is as attractive and alluring as violet says it is. meanwhile, violet dressed as “slutty catwoman” (her words, not yours).

and yes, violet was going. everyone at mit would be going. it was one of those annual parties that's been going on for years, even before your class was there.

you enjoyed that; traditions and routines. they created memories and showed the change through each generation. thinking back, you bet your ancestors would die of a heart attack if they saw the way you were dressed and the things people did at these parties. but none of those thoughts stopped you from leaving the sorority house and walking across the street to the frat party.

you hadn’t even walked in yet, and the music was booming throughout the neighborhood. through the blinds that failed to close, you could see the technicolor lights flashing in redirection. cars of every shade were parked for probably miles down the street, and you knew as the night went on the number of people would only increase.

violet walked in front of you, strutting through the door like she owned the place. you followed behind her almost cowardly, but you weren’t really looking for everyone’s attention anyway. just one.

however, you forgot that the whole reason violet believed you were wearing this dress in the first place was for that exact reason. so, when she realized your shyness, she turned around and shook all your nerves out of you. literally. she shook your shoulders until you were woozy and nearly stumbling over your heels (you are now wishing you wore sneakers). it was like you were already tipsy by the time she was done.

she dragged you towards the kitchen without any words, seeming as though you wouldn’t be able to hear them over the blaring music and loud chatter. bottles of liquor decorated the marble countertop along with blue and red solo cups, trashed like a 90’s high school movie. violet grabbed the first bottle she saw, pouring the dark liquid into a cup she somehow snagged.

“your turn,” she shoves the bottle and cup towards your body as a stranger bumps into you from the back. the place was getting packed, making it hard to find anywhere to breathe. “some liquid courage.”

“i’m okay. i will later, though,” you rejected, not liking the idea of being drunk when you had a goal in mind. by the end of the night, you really wanted to be in peter’s bed. but you hated the idea of being drunk while having sex, especially when you wanted to enjoy it. you only indulged in drunk sex when you really needed to get off and one; didn’t want to remember what happened, or second; didn’t want it to last longer than that night. mostly the latter.

you know what it feels like to be with peter, and you craved to feel like that again. just thinking about him made you feel a thousand different kinds of wonderful; heart racing, stomach swirling, core burning. you knew the second you found him it would be hard to keep your hands away.

–

peter finally decides to shuffle down his stairs for the first time tonight. when the roaring music began an hour ago, he knew the party had, too, but he didn’t feel like going down yet. he couldn’t help but peek out his blinds in his bedroom, waiting to see you crossing the street.

he swears he was in his bedroom for at least an hour, occasionally peeking out the window, impatiently waiting for your arrival. with a slight frown on his face, he realizes that you might not be coming.

why would you?

peter assumed that you just now noticed how creepy it was for him to sneak into your bedroom. twice. maybe all your smiles and kisses were just silent pleads to make him leave the room faster. but your laugh seemed so genuine, and the sweet, little noises that you muffled under your palms were from real pleasure. right?

you were moaning his name.

he imagined you strutting across the street in a jaw-dropping dress, one that would send him into a frenzy. but you would be too humble and would shrug it off like you were the most average person on earth. peter would scoff and take you into his arms and drag you up into his room. then he would admire you until you believed you were the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen.

open mouth kisses etched on your naked body. bites and pinches of tease. your sweet hums and delicately broken moans. nails clawing into his tough skin greedily. his voice guiding and praising you while yours is disheveled in pleasure.

god, he’s so in his head. he’s so far gone. and he barely knows you.

like a daydreaming idiot, he slaps the side of his head a few times to get his brain back into reality. he stares at his appearance in the mirror, silently motivating himself to have a good night whether or not you show up.

taking a deep breath, he finally exits his bedroom. of course, the music is booming and the place is already as crowded as a concert. peter trails down the stairs, but stops midway when he sees the top of your head.

is that you? how did he miss you?

moving swiftly down the steps, he weaves his way through the crowd, his fake glasses nearly slipping down his face. multiple people try to stop and chat with him, but he doesn’t indulge for long, having a clear destination in mind.

but, just when he reaches the kitchen, you’re gone.

he swears he just saw you. maybe he’s going crazy.

releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, peter pushes through a few more bodies before reaching the sliding glass door. he squeezed himself outside and inhales. when you’re in a house full of sweaty, drunk people smoking weed, you become more grateful for the fresh air.

he removes his glasses and tucks them into his neckline. his eyes gaze at the backyard’s minuscule decorations, and then to the sky. he stares at the stars as they wink at him, reassuring that everything will be alright. he wishes that the town won’t need saving tonight and that everyone will be on their best behavior. he hopes that you’ll come to the party, even if it doesn’t end with you in his arms.

even though that’s all he really wants.

“peter?” a voice speaks, and the sound was so elegant and soft that he thought the stars themselves were talking to him. he forces himself to blink a few times before spinning around to face you.

he nearly faints when he sees your costume.

short red dress, white tights, blue heels, black webs. you were dressed as spider-man, or spider girl, and you looked absolutely fucking stunning. you would be the death of peter. seriously, he thinks he might pass out from lust and admiration looking at you. you were just so drop-dead gorgeous, he couldn’t believe it.

maybe the stars were on his side tonight. unless they wanted to kill him…

“are you okay?” your soft voice of concern walks straight up to him, delicate hand resting on his shoulder.

“y-yeah,” peter stutters before coughing. is it surprising that he’s already half hard? a small blush cascades his pale cheeks. “you look… really fucking good.”

there’s no dancing around it.

now, familiar heat warms your neck, cheeks, and ears at his compliment. his voice was low, so only you could hear it over the screaming music, and it was laced with a small growl that had your stomach flipping. your hand fell from his shoulder.

“thanks,” you couldn’t think of what else to say, but then you looked at his outfit, which was little to none. actually, he was wearing normal clothes. peter was probably the only person at the party without a costume. “i guess i had to go all out since you decided not to wear anything. it’s your party and you didn’t think to dress up?”

peter laughs, breaking any invisible tension that might have been there. god, you loved his laugh. it was so childlike and full of joy, that you couldn’t help but smile.

“i have a costume. hold on,” peter puts on his glasses.

“if you say you’re a hot nerd—”

“nuh uh, i’m a super hot nerd,” he then rips the buttons off half of his flannel, presenting the superman symbol on his chest. rolling your eyes, it was your turn to laugh. your hand covers your face at his silliness as you lean against the nearby wall for support.

“you’re such an idiot.”

“i can’t be a nerd and an idiot, angel.”

“somehow, you make it work,” you both chuckle with huge smiles on your faces, unable to look away from each other.

“hey, dickwad,” flash abruptly appears from the sliding glass door that you two were standing by. he was dressed as spider-man, which nearly made peter cry laughing out of irony when he first found out this morning, but he kept that to himself. “—oh, hey, y/n. nice costume! at least someone has taste.”

“superman is a great superhero—”

“whatever, dude. at least spiderman is real!” flash shouts before parading away, repeating the statement to his next victims that will hear him.

“what do you have against spider-man?” you ask, leaning against the rough wall by just your arm. you were too afraid to have the dress touch it, in fear of ripping or ruining it.

“nothing,” peter shrugs.

“oh, c’mon,” you shove at his shoulder playfully. “just say you don’t believe in him. it’s okay.”

“what! of course, i believe in him, he’s not santa claus.”

“oh my god, santa isn’t real?!” you pretend to be shocked, hands slapping your cheeks. peter lightly chuckles and rolls his eyes before nonchalantly grabbing your hand. your heart speeds up in your chest at his simple movement while your breathing halters.

and just like that he’s in control.

“do you want to get a drink?” peter’s thumb plays with the skin of your knuckles while he waits for your answer. but you can’t think of anything right now besides the soft caress being tattooed onto you.

“no, i’m not in the mood to drink tonight,” you replied, hoping that gave peter a hint at how you wanted the night to go. peter wasn’t as stupid as most guys, so you have high hopes that he understood the foreshadow.

“well, what are you in the mood for?” his voice was low again, speckles of lust wavering in it. he takes a step closer to you, and you can’t help but lay flat against the wall. you weren’t even thinking about the condition of the dress anymore. you swallowed as your stomach burned in anticipation.

“somewhere quiet,” your eyes flickered between his darkening eyes and his pink lips.

“it won’t stay quiet as long as you’re there,” a cheeky smile rises up on his lips as heat floods through your body. you hit his shoulder lightly, embarrassment flushing your cheeks.

following him and his contagious smile, peter drags you through the crowds of people. there were more people in the house than when you arrived, but you’re not surprised. the upstairs section of the frat was basically off-limits to most people, unless you really had to go to the bathroom and the downstairs one was taken. you’ve been to the house a few times, but you’ve never stayed long enough to go upstairs.

but tonight everything is different.

unlike your wooden floors, peter’s are carpeted, so you’re walking very carefully on your heels. when you reach the top step, your calves are slightly burning from the exercise.

looking both ways, peter leads you towards his bedroom at the end of the hallway, hands intertwined. it felt secretive, and a part of you liked it. he closes the door right when you got inside, locking it quickly. but while he’s doing so, your hands release from his to explore his room. he rushes to clean his messes books.

peter had a gray and black color scheme that was alluring. his dark gray sheets looked soft and plush, and you could imagine yourself sleeping in them every night. were you getting ahead of yourself? maybe. you barely knew him, but you felt like you’ve known him forever. you glance around his room some more, trying to get to know him.

he had two band posters; led zeppelin and guns n’ roses. you didn’t expect the second one, but it impressed you. his desk was scattered with textbooks and papers like he had just been studying. turning around you see his two-mirror closet. it was slightly ajar, letting you see a few boxes.

“what’s in the boxes?” you ask, slowly creeping your way towards them. you don’t miss peter’s eyes widening slightly and his cheeks heating up. now you have to know.

“n-nothing important,” peter scratches the back of his neck, and if he’s trying to hide something, he’s doing a horrible job at it. on the sides of each box were black handwriting.

“trophies and medals,” you read aloud, inching your way towards the door, “books—”

“y/n, don’t!” peter exclaimed nervously with a hand reaching out to stop you, causing you to turn around and eye his expression. he swallowed thickly, praying you didn’t open the box. his anxiety was at an all time high. “there’s… personal stuff in there.”

“okay, okay. you don’t want anyone to know you have sexy magazines,” you rolled your eyes and huffed out a chuckle. “i get it. i’m not jealous.”

“yeah…” peter’s cheeks don’t cool down, still red and warm. for some reason, he senses the awkward tension arising in the atmosphere around you both, and he doesn’t know how to tame it. you both know what you want now, but it’s hard to bring it up without being so forward.

“did i tell you that you look good in glasses?” you speak after the few seconds of silence. you get yourself comfortable on the edge of his bed, unstrapping your heels from your already sore feet. you groan. “feels so much better.”

“thanks,” peter joins with a never-ending blush, sitting next to you. he’s itching to touch you.

why was it so much easier when he broke in?

he turns to face you and stares at your eye makeup. you had little black webs on the corner of your eyes. for some strange reason, the idea of you dressing up as him really turned him on. even if you didn’t know it was him.

“peter,” you said a bit breathlessly. your heart was racing with anticipation and lust. he hadn’t even noticed you were staring right back at him. you could look at each other for hours, but you really wanted more. needed it. subconsciously, you were both leaning forward towards your lips.

“yeah?” peter’s gaze never faltered. his honey brown eyes darkened to black.

“i brought something for you,” his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes, curious.

“it’s not even christmas yet,” he smiles, “and what’s that?” you leaned closer to him, your lips hovering over his ear.

“it’s a surprise,” you whispered seductively, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. he doesn’t hesitate to rub the supple skin covered by fishnet, warm and smooth.

when you pull away just the slightest, peter crashes his lips to yours. the kiss was as passionate as your feelings for him, erupting your anticipation and nerves in small gasps. he shifts you over to his lap, so you’re straddling him. instantly, you buck your hips into his crotch, desperate for more than a heated kiss.

your heart is thrashing in your chest and there’s a familiar burn in the lower part of your stomach. your hands roam his brown hair, exploring his locks like it’s new territory. except it’s not. you’ve never felt like you’ve known someone so well without even knowing them that well. the chasing, the waiting, the wanting, the needing, the wondering—it was the strangest feeling, and you were addicted to it.

you pop your lips off of peter, puffy and pink. you both take a second to breathe before you start kissing down his neck. you’re not shy with your teeth, leaving marks on his tough skin that’s shielding layers of muscle.

when you get to his collarbone, you nearly whine because he still has his flannel and shirt on. you swear you’ve never been more horny or desperate in your life.

“relax, sweet girl,” peter reassures, petting your hair while you look up at him. “we have all night.”

just tonight? you thought. what about the other nights? and days?

after a soft sigh, you nod and begin unbuttoning his flannel. your hands are a bit shaky from all the anticipation and the rapid beat of your heart. of course peter notices.

“are you alright?” he questions softly, being the caring guy he is.

“yeah, just nervous, i guess,” you answer honestly because he makes it easy to. he’s comforting and he cares.

so why are you nervous?

but instead of asking you why, he says, “me too.”

after you undo the last button and gently remove his flannel, you delicately smile at him. it was so pretty, peter couldn’t help but smile too. you tug on the end of his superman t-shirt, and he yanks it off. and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his immaculate figure. it was sculpted to perfection, as if he was given his body from some drug. or maybe even the gods.

his hand raises to caress your supple cheek, causing you to stare at his face before he’s kissing you again. it started off sweet and gentle, like how peter saw you. but it didn’t take long for it to be rougher and full of lust. peter could feel his jeans tightening underneath you, and he wasn’t stupid enough to confuse the scent of your arousal with perfume or something.

trying again, your lips go to trail down peter’s neck again. his breath is wavering our sighs of pleasure as you lick and nibble his skin.

“gonna tell me that surprise?” peter asks, hands crawling up to the back of your dress. he’s sure to be careful as he drapes the straps down, the top slowly sliding down as you make out with his chest. you push peter’s body down so he’s laying flat on the bed, not answering him. “not gonna answer?”

you weren’t. you didn’t have time for all the things you wanted to do with him. all the things you wanted him to do to you. maybe you were too far gone to think it would take more than a night to be fulfilled by peter. more than two. more than a week? maybe a month. you’d keep going until you’re sick and tired, but you don’t think you could ever get sick or tired of peter parker.

lost within the feeling of his body, you barely comprehend when he flips you dramatically over. his hard body hovers above yours, your dress barely hiding your peaked nipples.

“i ask you a question, baby,” he husks, breath fanning over your skin and traveling toward your ear. a shiver scatters up your spine and a spark of lust fires in your clit.

“you have to wait and see,” you answered breathlessly, a smirk rising on your face.

a dark color covers his eyes. peter doesn’t like not knowing something, so he’s desperate to figure out your little “surprise.”

with little to no effort, violet’s dress is tugged all the way down your body. he tosses it gracefully onto his bedroom floor, but doesn’t pay any mind to it as he gazes over your body. he hasn’t seen you since wednesday and he was craving you like crazy. he thought he was going to go insane. but as he stares down at your figure adorning white fishnets sexily, he finally knows what it’s like to go crazy.

“is this my surprise? because, fuck, you look like a prize.”

you giggle as his rough fingertips trail down your torso. your nipples ache from neglect and the chilly october air that somehow breezes through the room. your body arches up into his touch, needing him badly. maybe you should just tell him the surprise.

but wouldn’t it be so much better if he just found it himself?

“can i unwrap my present?” peter teases with a cheeky smile, nudging at the waistline of your fishnets. you know that the second you open your legs he’s going to see your wetness leaking from the fabric.

“yes, peter,” you can’t help but laugh.

“do you care if i rip them?”

“what?”

“can i rip them?”

“i don’t—” the quiet sound of stretching and ripping cuts you off. he tore your fishnets. well, violet’s fishnets. “peter!”

“too late. i’ve never been good at unwrapping gifts,” he quickly kisses your cheek in a sweet apology, “luckily, i’m pretty good at taking care of them.”

you roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but can’t help but smile like a little kid. as he makes his way down your body again, he widens your legs and sees his surprise. your heart throbs just like your aching cunt.

“ah, so that’s my surprise,” he grumbles. it’s hard for him to keep it together right now.

peter stares darkly at the small purple toy peeking out from your bare pussy. you had no panties on, which in peter’s eyes, seemed ironic. from the top of his eyes, he sees the tiny smirk creeping up onto your lips.

his hand crawls up your leg until it reaches the soaking folds of your throbbing cunt. he pets your slit delicately, like you’d break if he fully touched you. you might. even from that simple touch, you were squirming underneath him, silently begging for more.

“how long has this been keeping you full?” he questions, curious, “is this what you’ve been using while i was gone?”

“mhm,” you hum when his fingers find your puffy clit, throbbing with desire. you leaked all around the purple toy, wetness gushing from you.

“look at you. fucking soaked. what made you this wet? was it the toy?” peter circles your clit faster, making your breath falter. you try to keep your eyes strained on him, but the feeling is just too incredible to focus on anything else. “answer me.”

“n-not the toy,” you stutter with breathlessness. a wavering moan elicits from you.

“then why are you so wet?” he taunts, and the low level of his voice floods over your body just right. you clench needily around the toy right in front of him, causing him to growl.

“you! nothing makes me wet like you do,” you admit head falling back on the pillow as his rough pace gives in. he’s satisfied with your answer, so he goes to a full, fast rhythm.

you’re so dazed with your orgasmic chase that your body rumbles as it nears. to make matters more intense, peter testingly pushes the small button on the bottom of the toy. it springs to life, vibrating your entire insides electrifingly. a broken moan escapes your swollen lips, and you just pray it’s hidden behind the heavy beat of the party music.

your legs shake in his hands as his head lowers. you’re so close to your high and then he does even more? you swear you were going to explode.

his challenging mouth sucks harshly on your clit, devouring you like you were his last meal on earth. instead of the bed sheets, your hands find their way to his soft hair, tucking the roots with triumph.

you’re breathless and you’re close. so, so close. you can see your orgasm in front of you like a sunset and you’re riding straight into it on a horse.

“peter!” you cry when he nibbles on your clit, a smirk pressed against you. it was nice to release your moans without having to muffle them down. your core tenses like never before, overwhelmed by the extreme pleasure. “i’m coming—oh, fuck, please let me come!”

“go ahead, sweet girl,” he pops off of you and replaces his mouth with his thick fingers. “give it all to me.”

so you do. you release every tension within you that was holding you back. with eyes screwed closed, your back arches from the high. the wetness squeezes out of you while peter eases you through it. he switches off the vibrator and puts it somewhere besides you on the bed.

he lowers his head to clean up the mess with delight. when he comes back up, the grin on his face is toothy and contagious. you reflect it back, wondering how you got so lucky. how were you lucky enough for your intruder to be peter parker?

“you okay, angel?” peter asks, thumb caressing your heated cheek bone with concern. you’re melting into his touch, hoping to be a part of him forever. you wouldn’t mind.

“yeah, just… thinking.”

“good or bad?”

“i’ll tell you later,” you smile as you recall all the small thoughts you have of peter. peter rolls his eyes dramatically as your hands rub down his chest.

“but… i was wondering if i could be on top? just wanna try it. i need it,” you stare into his eyes and patiently wait for an answer. you’ve never been on top before, but with peter it seems like it would be really fun.

“i don’t know. do you want me to die?”

you laugh, forcing you to look away from his brown eyes. you push peter off the bed until he’s standing and ask him to take off his pants. when he’s completely naked, he goes to lean against his headboard, ready for you to sit on him. you crawl over to him as he puts on a condom from his bedside table.

“ready, baby?” he massages your upper arms.

“you’re being too nice, peter,” you note as you throw your legs over his hips. you didn’t actually know what you were doing, but confidence is key. if you just pretended like you knew, it would look like it, right?

“what? do you want me to be mean, baby? ‘cause i can be mean.”

“don’t think you’re really capable.”

“we’ll see then, doll,” peter says deeply as his hand grips your hip tightly.

as you slowly lower your body with peter’s guidance, you feel his tip enter you. it was a different feeling than being on the bottom. you had more control, but you had to do more work. you’re not sure if you cared to have so much free reign. you kind of preferred when peter took the wheel.

you rocked your hips forward, feeling his hard cock fully inside of you. it was stretching you completely out. you couldn’t get up if you tried. there was a pain mixed with pleasure that filled you up so good.

“c’mon, y/n. fuck yourself on my cock,” he growled in encouragement as you attempted to lift your hips up. you barely move because you’re squeezing around his cock so tight, like if you let go you’ll die. peter lightly moans as you squeeze him, wondering if he’ll die right here inside of you.

“i-i can’t,” you whine.

“you can’t? thought you needed it?” he taunts. peter can be mean if he really wanted to,

“it’s too hard.”

“you’re not even trying. good girls at least try. don’t you want to be a good girl?”

peter thrusts up into you once to make you moan, which works successfully. you spit out your broken moan with your hands clawing his biceps.

“barely moved and you’re already moaning. pathetic, really. you asked me to be on top and you can’t even take it.”

you clench around his prick at his degrading words. you didn’t think he could be mean, but you were wrong. his words were just the right amount of degrading that made you weak and so, so wet.

“look at that. my girl’s getting off on words like pathetic,” my girl. the two words nearly cause you to come right then and there. then peter thrusts up into you with purpose in each movement. as one hand grips your hip, the other floats up to your breast and fingers your nipple. he flicks and tweaks at it, causing you to arch into his touch. “what about slut? do like when i call you my slut?”

“fuck, peter,” you groan at his dirty talking. with each pump, you would feel every inch of him inside of you, filling you up completely. although you’re so full, you needed it harder and faster, and it was going to be difficult to get it from this angle when you’re not being much help.

before the begging words even slip from your mouth, peter is flipping you both over with ease. he doesn’t waste a second to slide back into you, causing your body to erupt in flames.

he begins with hard pumps, slowly gaining speed. but once he’s going fast, you could barely focus on your senses. you swear you could hear colors.

the sounds of your moans, shrieks, and screams echo throughout his bedroom. you don’t care if people could hear you. you hoped they could. you hoped they knew how good peter was destroying you, so they knew you were his.

peter hoped the same thing.

“so, so good, peter,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy.

“yeah? such a slut for my cock, huh?” he teases, voice low and lustful. “so cockdumb that you couldn’t even ride me.”

“i-i can do it,” a breathless moan escaped you, but you were too floaty to understand what you were really saying.

“oh, now you can do it? well, it’s too late, sweetheart.”

peter’s pace doesn’t falter. he makes sure to make every thrust count as he hits every angle. you cry out in bliss, chasing your orgasm like your life depends on it.

“i’m close,” the whine that elicits from you is groggy and strained from how sore it feels. you can’t even imagine how raw it would be from taking him down your throat…

for another time.

his rough hand trails down between you until he’s pressing his hand down on your stomach. with every shift of his cock he can feel himself moving through you. as he puts more pressure, you both collectively moan at the feeling.

“can you feel me? can you feel me deep inside of your little cunt? do you feel me right here?” peter drags your trembling hand to place it on your lower torso, right where he’s nonstop thrusting into you.

“yes, peter! fuck, you’re so big. i feel you in my tummy,” you clamp around his cock, your orgasm right around the corner. “please, please let me come. i’ve been good.”

“have you? you couldn’t even ride me even when i let you.”

“i’m sorry, peter–please. need to so bad,” your eyes are squeezed shut as you beg peter. his hand that was on top of yours drifts down to your clit. he stimulates it by rubbing in tight circles that have you seeing stars. every muscle is in your body is screaming and pleading for release while he overstimulates you more. “want to be good!”

“yeah? want to be a good girl?” a needy moan elicits from you. “then come for me. right now while you’re squeezing me.”

the air surrounding you turned wistful and cloudy. your body rumbled and erupted as you orgasmed, shaking with desire as it poured out of you. you thought the first time that you and peter fucked was the best sex you’ve ever had, but after tonight, you’ve never been more wrong. maybe it’s because you two are a little more comfortable with each other. maybe it’s because you told him to be a little mean. whatever it was, it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. because it was more than sex. it felt like more.

peter’s orgasm trails yours, making sure that you come first. his thrusts were slowier and sloppier as he pants out heavy breaths. before exiting you, his hand reaches up to caress your face.

“okay?” his voice was a bit raspy as he came down from his high. his arms were on either side of your head, and you felt safe and protected.

“more than,” you smiled dopily at peter, whose eyes were twinkling. reflecting a smile, peter begins to pull out of you. “do we have to?”

“have to what?” he stops his movements, half-way out of you. you hated the empty feeling that started to flood over you because you knew he’d leave soon. well, you would leave soon.

“leave. can’t we just stay in here all night?” you question. a part inside of you was scared for his rejection, that he was going to kick you out and then that was it. but the other half of you had the courage to ask because you knew it would all be fine.

“i would–”

“oh, there’s a but coming.”

“but i need to eat. and so do you,” he pulls out of you and rids out the condom within a few seconds. you don’t move from your flat position on the bed, feeling the cold waves of loneliness flooding over you already. peter had a tingle that you wanted more. you wanted to stay, but you were too nervous to ask. you were good at giving him big hints, though.

he loves the idea of you staying. laying with you and hearing your soft breaths as you sleep. cuddling close to be warm from the cold air. peter’s heart lurches at the wonderful thought.

peter reaches for his clothes and dresses. you bend over and slip on the dress, without the fishnets. your hair was probably a mess, but you didn’t care because the only person you cared about seeing tonight was peter.

once you’re dressed with shaky hands, peter stands in front of you and rests his hands on your shoulders. delicately, he caresses your neck as you practically pur into his warm touch. you felt your heart rate pick up, even though he was just inside of you.

“and then, if you’d like, we can come back up here,” he presses his chest against yours as his voice softens, “and we can lay in bed, watch a movie, and not worry about being caught because we don’t have rules like you do.”

although your heart was beating fast already, you’ve never felt more comfortable. he made you feel reassured, and you couldn’t ask for more. with a smile rising to your lips, peter’s heart skips a beat at the wistfulness cascading throughout his body. your lips were soft and kissable, your skin was glowing with an orgasmic shine, and your makeup was a bit smudged, but you still looked like peter’s perfect girl.

his girl.

“wait, before we eat, i have to get some stuff at the sorority.”

“okay,” he says, “put this on. it’s freezing and your wearing practically nothing.”

he throws a hoodie at you and you catch it with blinking eyes. it as a small gesture, but your heart was melting. you slip it over your head without any question. and then he’s dragging you out of the extremely loud and crowded house. no one says or questions anything, and you’ve never been more glad to be so invisible.

–

“what are you doing? come on!”

“what if they see me?”

“there’s no one home!” you whisper-shouted at peter as you walked through the door. there was a key under the flower pot that worked great when you forgot your key.

it’s kind of ironic that you are both sneaking into your sorority. it’s a full circle moment.

you both tiptoe through the clean, white house. peter nearly takes his shoes off because he’s scared he’ll leave dirt footprints in his trail. he really does not want to be seen in this house knowing what happened to flash the last time they snuck in. but it’s peter’s job to be stealthy, so he hopes he could keep up the good work.

you make it up the stairs and head straight for your room. peter remembered exactly which one was yours, now that he’s been in it two times somehow. once you’re both inside, he shuts the door behind him quietly like someone would hear him.

“why did we just tiptoe all the way up here? there’s no one even here!” you say in a normal level voice as a chuckle follows after. peter laughs with you as you search your drawers for some clothes.

“i feel it’s only right to bring the mit one, right?”

“definitely.”

“wait, did you leave the vibrator on your bed?”

“uh… yeah. sorry.”

“peter!” your skin grows warm with the idea that someone might stumble into his bedroom and find it just lying there. you cringe at yourself.

you pack a small overnight bag with your most needed essentials. peter sits patiently on your bed, practically swinging his feet as he analyzes your bedroom. it was simple with a few picture frames of family and friends. your room was basically plain white with a few pink and blue items scattered around the place. in all, it was you. he couldn’t think of a better sorority room to fit your vibe, your personality better than this room. it was naturally gorgeous, like you.

even though peter was looking around your room, he was still watching you pack. he observed when you folded a pair of night shorts with the mit t-shirt and even threw in an outfit for the next day just in case you two went out. but you were missing something.

“okay, let me grab my toothbrush,” you quickly left the room and in no-time were back. “let’s go. i’m hungry now.”

“but you’re forgetting something,” peter says. you blink, wondering what you might be forgetting.

“but i grabbed everything–” you watch as peter glides towards your dresser drawers. he opens the top left and immediately finds your colorful panties and underwear. your eyes widen in embarrassment, even though he’s seen you naked multiple times. something about him staring at your undergarments was just a little more… vulnerable?

peter snatches two different colors, a royal blue one and a vibrant red one, similar to the first one he saw you in. of course, he picked these colors purposely.

“which one? i’m thinking the blu–”

“what are you doing! that’s my underwear!” you tried to reach for them dangling in his hands, but he was way quicker than you. it’s like he knew before you even moved.

“well, i think at this point it’s kind of a tradition for me to take one, no? i couldn’t take them earlier because you weren’t wearing any!”

your neck and cheeks flush with embarrassment. yeah, you may have been confident when in the moment, but talking about it just made your face hot. peter always knew how to get you going. to get quickly out of this situation, you grumble, “blue.”

and with that, you were on your way back to the frat house. the party was still going strong and surprisingly, no one asked where either of you were. when you and peter walked through the door, people just acted like you’ve been there the whole time. but they were also drunk and high, so was it really that shocking?

within the first few minutes of you and peter being in the congested house, you both look at each other with a knowing look. there was no way you two could eat in this populous, mess of a place.

“diner?” peter shouts over the blaring music. he swore flash turned it up to full volume, even when peter told him specifically not to do that.

“exactly what i was thinking,” you reply loudly as you squeeze your bodies through the crowd. peter slides his hand into yours as you shift through everybody. a spark of electricity nearly shocks you.

when you approach his car, you throw your bag at the bottom of your feet before dropping into his passenger seat. you both inhale and exhale the refreshing night time air. the house smelt like marjuana and sweat, but his car was scented with pine and fresh leather.

as he started the car, you two didn’t say anything. and it was perfect. it was comfortable. it was safe. you turn your head to look at peter, whose eyes were fighting between the road and you. your heart skips a beat that’s getting familiar as you smile softly. gently, your hands intertwine as you ride on to the diner.

your journey with peter started… differently than most. but you liked the idea of having a tradition with peter. sure, it may not be traditional, but it was yours. you would both have to create a fundraiser for all these panties he will be stealing because they’re not cheap!

is it really stealing if you know he’s taking them? whatever.

when people ask how you guys met, it’s going to be a funny story. how many people break into someone’s house as a dare and then fall in love with them? not many.

wait… love?

–

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. i could not be more grateful for the love on panty stealer. i never thought any of my writing would get this much notice, so thank you (times three) for all the likes, comments, and reblogs.

note: i won’t be making anymore full parts, however, i will do blurbs/drabbles of these two if requested!

taglist: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @sylum @harrys-humble-housewife @blurazbabe @introverbatim @piperparker7 @graceberman3 @tommy-braccoli @fioooweeooweeeoo @conrad4life13

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#shawnxstyles #peter parker #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland smut #peter parker fics #peter parker fanfics #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland fics #tom holland fanfics #peter parker one shot #tom holland one shot

[landothemuppet]

Please, notice me | part. one

wordcount → 3.4K

summary → It has been eight months since The Blip. It also has been months since you live with Peter’s new obsession, increased feelings for a girl who isn’t you. You believed you would finally spend time with your friends during the Europe trip, this summer. It was without counting on Peter’s Plan. You try to enjoy those last days in New-York with your best friend.

disclaimer → This mini-series takes place during the events of FFH and NWH movies. The fic will contain many of those movie scenes, including some bonus scenes. the Spider-Man divider is from @silkholland

pairing ↳ peter parker x female!bestfriend!reader

warning(s)  → angst, jealousy.

taglist: @justapurrcat  @delightfulmuffinclamauthor if you want to be added in my taglist, please let me know just here

“I have a plan” Your best friend announced, as he sat spontaneously in his chair, somewhat agitated.

He didn’t wait a second longer to state his so-called plan, as if it seemed the best idea in the world.

But Peter wasn't Peter without his hard-contained hyperactivity, which didn't stop you from smiling to yourself. All of Peter's clumsy features made him incredibly endearing.

Ned listened intently to your friend's ramblings as you absentmindedly continued your drawing in your sketchbook. In fact, Peter always had a plan. Well, he almost always had one, except in the important moments when he let his instincts or his feelings take over. But lately, your sweet best friend had a multitude of plans, all aimed at one and the same goal. And that's why, despite all the consideration you had for the boy with the curly brown hair, you didn't give importance to his new schemes.

You still caught Ned telling your best friend not to do any of this, with a lot of irony, which made you split a small chuckle. You loved your friend’s candor. Ned always had the gift to make you laugh, or just smile, even when it was serious. He tried to convince your friend with arguments about the single life, which you didn’t really pay attention to. To tell the truth, it often happened that you locked yourself in your world while your two best friends rambled about various subjects. Today was not an exception.

Ned had never understood Peter’s sudden fondness for MJ, so do you. It was like your best friend, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man from Queens, had woken up one morning with an obsession… Some wake up from a coma by speaking a language they never spoke… Others, like Peter, discover relatively sudden feelings for people they had never considered before. He always talked about her as if she were the most impressive person on the planet, He always looked at her as if she could hang the moon and the stars, He drank her words as if she could put the universe in a bottle. And it had been going on for months, without you knowing why his feelings had grown overnight. You felt like one day he was madly in love with Liz, the next day he was fighting his father, and the next day MJ had become all of Peter’s conversation subjects. And since then, you felt like your head was going to explode.

Your fingers continued to scribble while your mind continued to wander in your own thoughts. Chance, or the irony of fate, call it what you want, wanting the next song on your playlist to reflect exactly the feelings that lay dormant in you.. You were that kind of person who created incredible scenarios in your head when you were listening to music. Thus, a cover of “Mr. Sandman” could send your mind into a torrential rain, where your body was lying in a pool of blood while your soulmate, the biggest charismatic mobster in London, begged you to stay with him.

"Y/N ?" Peter asked

You looked up, the cloud of thoughts dissipating from your eyes to meet your best friend's chocolate gaze.

There was something with his eyes, something that always attracted you. A comforting warmth, a spark of innocence, an open window to the extraordinary person that was Peter Parker. But at that moment, his expression was one of expectation and as you turned your head towards Ned, you only met the same expression. A question on hold, awaiting your response, your opinion.

“No, yeah…Peter’s right. It’s a great plan”.

Ned shook his head in resignation while your other best friend gave you that idiot puppy smile. You always followed Peter's path, the Filipino knew it. And that sometimes caused tensions in the past. It had always been Ned, you and Peter but your friend was not fooled and knew that your feelings for the one who embodied Spider-Man during his free time, would always take over your decision. It was unintentional.

Yet, You didn't want Ned to feel left out again. You were therefore in an awkward position, not knowing the details of the conversation. But admitting you weren't listening might hurt Peter.

"But Ned isn't wrong either" you added, hoping to satisfy everyone.

Peter grimaced, a look of incomprehension on his face. At that moment, you wished you had listened to Peter's plan, but your heart wasn't in it.

"Okay, sure…" Peter said "But I really like MJ, man"

You have chosen this moment to return to your notebook until Peter's restless behavior distracts you from your drawing again.

"She's coming up. Just DON'T say anything." Peter panicked a bit.

MJ stood in front of you. You politely greeted her with a smile as the two boys rambled on. Ned threw the information that Peter had a plan then tried to catch up. You raised your eyebrows at the "teaspoon collection" excuse, even more so when Peter simply blamed it on Ned. What did you do to deserve friends like that? "Oh. Okay. Well, that was a real rollercoaster." MJ said and again, you try to suppress your chuckle. The brunette girl turned to you, patiently waiting, standing a bit awkwardly as she always did and you pinched your lips and shrugged. She was waiting for your own plans for this trip.

"I guess, I’m going to keep an eye on these idiots and take a little interest in art in Venice… but above all, keep an eye on these morons." "It sounds like a great responsibility," she said in her legendary laid-back manner. "It is."

Peter and Ned gave you their offended but quite adorable looks. It would be a lie to say that you weren't the quiet strength of the group. MJ then advised you to use VPNs to protect yourself from the government and you nodded politely again, this time uninterested in why the young woman was interested in conspiracy theories. Ned merely added a remark about the fact that all this had gone well, implying that MJ had not discovered Peter’s plan, and you laughed as your friend gave the Filipino a somewhat impressed and annoyed look, stalling his tongue against his cheek to suppress a sarcastic remark of which he had the secret.

You liked that side of Peter. You found it rather amusing. That little something, those little facial expressions that hinted that Peter could be pungent. That kind of look he just gave at Ned that told you he was holding back some sarcasm…a little verbal rant that would be extremely well thought out and not necessarily harmful. A kind of "no kidding?" non-verbal. And that made Parker sexy.

Sexy wasn't the first word one would associate with Peter Parker. Some would say: loser, weird, nerd or even would ask ; "who?". Usually, You would have said cute….but at that moment, his somewhat sarcastic attitude made your stomach turn deliciously. Peter's gaze softened as it rested on you and you felt your cheeks heat up.

"So, what are you going to do on this science trip?" he asked, as if you hadn’t already answered the question a few minutes earlier, when MJ asked you to. "Anything but science. I really go there for the art. I mean Italy and France are two countries known for their talented artists, right?"

Your gaze shifted to Ned, who shrugged, unaware of your words. Ned and Peter weren't really cheerful or interested with the Renaissance paintings, they were more like: Star Wars LEGO Death Star. What you also appreciate, you would not lie, but you appreciate the poetry in old paintings and sculptures. Some would call you pathetic, others would simply call you romantic.

The bell rang and you simply put your sketchbook in your backpack. You followed Ned and Peter down the halls, this time a little more focused on the conversation. Several students rushed to clean their lockers before the end of the year, while others seemed eager to throw away their classes as if they would no longer need them. You walked through the doors to a new hallway where you saw Flash throwing food from his locker into a trash can. You could not suppress a grimace of disgust.

"So what are you going to do on your last days in New York?” Ned asked Peter while you three walked through the hall. “Ooh, I have some errands to run.” started to answer Peter

You continued on your way when you felt the projectile thrown by Flash fall on your shoulder bag. You looked at the man with an angry look, not doubting that this piece of stale pizza was undoubtedly aimed at Peter. But the widespread indifference of your best friends about it just kept you going your way, so you could focus on the conversation again.

“I have to get a mini toothpaste, pick up my passport and then take down the Manfredi crime family.” “Oh” Ned said, impressed about the last part of Peter’s to-do list. “Can I come? I need to do that too!” you quickly said, only to face two surprised looks from your friends. “ I mean, except the take down Manfredi crime family thing”

There was hope in your eyes. You wanted to spend some time with Peter because a strange feeling told you that you wouldn't during this trip to Europe. The exchange of glances between your two friends indicated a silent conversation and Peter seemed to hesitate. He looked at you with his sheepish expression, his mouth forming an O, waiting to speak his words.

"Uh yeah.. yeah, I mean, if you have to do it…you can do it with me," he said, moving his head and shoulders frantically in a mismatch between his gestures and his words. You could sense the anxiety and hesitation in his behavior. "Are you sure? I can do it alone if you don't want me…it's just…"

You didn’t want to be a burden on Peter, You initially thought his reluctance was due to his Spider-Man business. Although you’ve been his friend for as long as you can remember, you were only made aware of his dual identity after Ned. The truth is, you discovered his secret recently at the prom. As you were leaving the bathroom to join your group of friends, you had met Peter who would run quickly towards the exit, without having seen you. You saw him lifting a bunch of lockers like he was wearing a light weight. Then Ned disappeared from the evening. The next day, you confronted them and were told: Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

You then thought that his purchases were then about his plan to seduce MJ. So, if he had things he wanted to do in your absence, that was perfectly legitimate. You asked only from a practical point of view. You could see the various feelings passed through the eyes of your best friend: the misunderstanding of your withdrawal, the fear of having possibly hurt you, the panic of your weak disappointment. Peter Parker was a quick emotional kettle.

"No. No, you can come with me. Come with me, please Y/N." Peter asked more peacefully, almost begging you to come this time.

You smiled politely, mixed emotions, and then nodded your head in acquiescence. You weren’t really sure that Peter wanted you to be there. You looked at Ned who shrugged and said he had to be with his Lola for the rest of the week.

You first went to Delmar to buy the necessary supplies: mini toothpaste, and small bottles to pour hygiene products into (shower gel, shampoo, make-up remover), without forgetting about electric plug adaptors. The best grocer in Queens kept cheering you up. He always did. His eagerness and interest in the lives of his clients were always remarkable and you loved the interactions he had with you or with Peter. You were amused to see Mr Delmar’s enthusiasm for the call-up of Europe, and how Peter had destroyed all the hopes of your favorite grocer by evoking science. Once again, you could only understand his reaction, the saw was not the main reason that convinced you to make this trip.

You quietly laughed at Peter trying to ask in Spanish for a headphone double adapter, - knowing that Spain was not a stopover on your trip to Europe, and that Italian, despite what you might think, did not look like Spanish at all - . You pinched your lips so as not to laugh more when the grocer answered him nonchalantly with a simple "what" in Spanish. However, you were not able to suppress a funny smile when Peter asked for the dual headphone adapter, this time in English. Mr. Delmar corrected him with a smile, as you strolled through the nearby candy stand, cuddling Murph who was laying on a display. Peter’s interaction with the grocer made your cheeks warm. Peter had this facility to joke with such confidence, blatantly denying that his Spanish was wobbly and that his request was almost accurate in comparison to the words used by Mr Delmar.

“You finally asked Y/N’s out. You’re a great guy, Peter Parker” Mr Delmar said with a “dad proud” look on his face. “Oh, no…no Mr. Delmar it’s not what you.. ” started Peter, trying to find his words.

Peter's gaze turned to you then to the grocer, several times in a row. His mouth opened and closed to find the words. He seemed to run out of words, overwhelmed, like a stray puppy.

Why did everyone keep believing that you and him could be a thing? May, now Mister Delmar, even Karen, the AI ​​of his suit seemed to believe that Y/N was more than a friend to him.

Could you think so too? Could you think that you both could be " a thing" ? Peter’s heart went crazy, not sure to be excited about it or stressed out, or terrified. You were his friend, right? He really liked MJ, by the way. But the idea of you both dating as…lovers? It couldn't be that bad… Peter shook his head to clarify his mind, trying in vain to find an answer to the grocer.

“We…well, She’s…” the brown haired boy continued.

How could this adorable stuttering boy be the brash and brave Spider-Man? You could clearly see two aspects of his personality… The mask must have helped, you thought.

You had to save Peter from this embarrassing situation. You must have. That's what friends do, right? And to be fair, it was awkward for you too. You wished it were true. You hoped that Peter feels the same way as you do. But you clearly could see how the thought of it disturbed your adorable dork friend. It was hurting you to hear your best friend arguing with his thoughts and words about it, over and over and over…and over. You approached the counter placing three small packets of gummy bears on it.

“We aren't together, Mr. Delmar… There’s for another girl.” you say with a small shy smile, lips pressed together, your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Peter looked at you, he gave you the same smile you gave him a few seconds ago. You could feel the look of pity the grocer was giving you. This man knew everything, he was, as you liked to call him, the soul of Queens. Nothing escaped him, not a single gossip, not a single crisp story escaped his ears. He had always listened, voluntarily or unintentionally. He was the confidant of an entire neighborhood. The best sandwiches in Queens but also the best advice. Peter’s eyebrows frowned at the sight of the gelatin gummy bears, not sure of the reason for this compulsive purchase, on his check.

“Hey, what’s that for?” He practically shouted, somewhat offended by your audacity

You shrugged nonchalantly, almost too confident, a mischievous little smile on the corner of your mouth.

“You owe me one. I bought you some churros the other day” “Fine,” Peter said, defeated.

You wrinkled your nose smiling victoriously and, in your spontaneity, you thanked him while laying a kiss on his cheek, as his became redder than your favorite candy. He might be in love with another girl but Peter Parker, remained Peter Parker. An adorable boy very clumsy with girls.

It was a bad idea. It was even a very bad idea to follow Peter everywhere he needed to go before packing his suitcase for your student trip in Europe.

You were now in a pawn shop and your best friend was trying to resell figurines to get money to offer a special jewel for MJ - unsurprisingly -. Once again, you took a step back, letting Peter do his stuff as you had nothing to sell to this guy who seemed a little unpleasant to you.

“You’re sure about this ?” the salesman asked him. “Yeah. I wanna buy a girl I like something really nice”

Jealousy, Jealousy. You felt your blood boil and turn into liquid acid, and if curses had been real - after all, you lived in a world where your seventeen-year-old best friend had fought an alien in space - your skin would’ve turned a bright shade of green. Not the elegant, poetic emerald green, no. A straight-up radioactive green one that was the perfect metaphor for how "corrosive" was the feeling who grew in your stomach.

Especially since one of these figurines were gifts that you had given to Peter. So, seeing him like that, selling his goods to impress a girl, that put you out of your mind. You were hurt. You felt your worth was less than MJ’s. It wasn’t really about the figurine, you were aware that we were all growing up at some point in our lives and that it was normal for us to separate from material goods over time. You couldn’t understand his logic. Peter was in love, certainly…. But to the point of abandoning objects related to his passions, for a girl? It was improbable. It was totally disproportionate.

‘Hm. Well, I hope she’s worth it. Is it her?’

The man pointed to you, as you walked down the aisles again in search of a trinket. There were so many things at such different prices. You were pretty sure you’d find some treasures in the stalls of that second-hand store. Peter looked at you and his ears turned red.

“Oh. No. No, she’s my best friend Y/N. She’s nice, but she’s not… That’s not her” He tried to whisper so you wouldn’t hear him…as if you possessed his super-hearing. “Whatever.” “Are you done Peter? The passport office will close soon” you asked, a bit anxious to be late at the passport office.

Peter quickly looked at you, his chocolate surprised doe eyes. He blinked, tightened his grip on the strap of his backpack, eager to sell his figurines while hoping not to be scammed by the seller.

“Yeah…yeah” “So, all of them, buddy?” “Actually, can I keep the Lobot” Peter asked, like a sad child, moving almost unbalanced from foot to foot, hesitant.

He reached out to his figurine and the seller gave it back. Peter’s eyes landed directly on the little plastic toy, as if relieved to have picked up the Lobot, an adorable smile on his face.

“Thanks. Yeah, I'll keep that one.”

You rolled your eyes again, but this time, you were softened by the attitude of your best friend. Even though he was love-struck - and it always hurt you to realize that it wasn’t for you - there was still the Peter Parker you had always known. Same old nerd Peter Parker : nerd but cute.

Finally, you both went to the passport office. The line up was long and you felt Peter become increasingly stressed during the day. As your best friend seemed impatient, you looked up at him and saw him tapping on his phone. You dropped a little surprise cry when a little animal spider came out of her backpack.

"It’s all right, miss," the man in front of you asked you, looking worried. "Yes, yes… I… thought I saw a bee flying near me. It was a simple fly" you covered up your discomfort by coughing.

The stranger frowned and you felt the judgment, you offered him a tight smile before the man turned to focus on the waiting wire. A second later, the metal railing flew to a sold-out window and the red light vigil pointing to the closed station now indicated that it was open. You pinched the fun lips while watching Peter try to be discreet, turning on himself to reach the counter to ask for his passport. You followed it to take advantage of it as well. The trip to Europe could finally begin.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fics #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fics #far from home

[multiverseprincess]

slightly toxic!ex!bf peter parker (gaslighter)

you can think of any Peter Parker you fancy <3, I personally am obsessed w ps5's version atm

he knows it's fucked up, he broke up with you for a reason- a reason that's unavoidable to him. he needs to keep you safe and protected, even if it's not with him and when the sinister six start their plotting, pulling him down to his knees he does it- he breaks it off, but not before he pushes you away.

it starts small, missed calls, texts and then missed movie nights, work parties and then, it escalates to missed dates, missed hangouts with your family or may, missed hangouts with your friends until he starts being a no- show when you need him the most.

he thinks it would make it easier, to dissappoint first and let you down slowly, before he has to deliver the finishing blow.

he says it's for your own good, and as you look at him with glassy eyes, tears threatening to fall over your lashes, he closes his eyes for a minute- "it's for her own good, it's for her own good, it's for her own good", before he hears a sniffle from you, and opens his eyes. he's met with a steeled gaze, teary but angry. it's good he thinks, he can take the anger- as long as you're away from him and safe.

"you're a coward, peter parker", you say, standing for a good minute to see if he'd react but he only looks down- trying not to cry, pained to hear those words from you.

you, who'd always said that if he was anything then that was good, you, who vented about jameson's malice filled reports about spiderman and said- "spiderman gives hope to the people, he fights the good fight, NYC is grateful to him and jameson can get his head out of his ass if he ever wants to take it to the streets".

he hates that your spunk is now driven to hurt him, intentionally or unintentionally, he deserves it either way he thinks, and he'd take it- he'd take it a hundred times over just so you'd be safe and protected, just so you'd live your life, live up to your potential as you always do.

the hope he gives, an extension of the hope he'd seen you give to him generously, kindly and gently. from the day he met you he knew he'd give his heart to you- to keep and to break.

he's honored regardless to have his heart kept in the safety of your palms and then crushed to pieces in between them, even though he guided the motions.

it's worth it he thinks, even if both your hands are tainted with crushed hope and a love that he feels he no longer deserves- 'its for her own good'.

psst: I made a part two

#peter parker fics #peter parker ps4 #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #marvel #peter 1 #peter 3 #peter parker #peter 2 #peter parker x poc!reader

[inthemytdl]

In a Minute

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: trying to wake a sleepy peter

Word Count: 560

——————————

“Pst.” You whispered, staring at Peter’s bare back as he laid beside you snoring softly. It was a quarter past one and you had woken up hours ago. Peter, on the other hand, was still fast asleep. His hand under a white pillow as he slept on his stomach. His back rising and falling with soft breaths.

You decided to let him sleep in two hours ago. During which you managed to shower, eat breakfast, and zoom through a couple cartoon episodes. Now you were bored, and Peter was still asleep. 

It was getting ridiculous.

His snores grew louder and you huffed out an annoyed breath, rolling your eyes when an idea came to mind. 

Laying down, you shimmied under the duvet before accidentally flicking a hand at him. It slapped his back with a loud clap! One you were sure would wake him. 

He wiggled before squeezing his pillow and finding a comfortable position—still asleep.

Seriously? You rolled your eyes, heaving in a heavy breath before another idea came to mind. 

Slowly, you turned so that your back was facing him, then scooted backwards, invading his side of the bed and stumbling onto his arm. He pulled it back—still asleep—and you continued to shimmy onto his side of the bed. 

“Y/n…” He groaned. His raspy voice was muffled by his pillow, which he held onto tight as you pushed him closer to the edge of the bed. 

You bit your lip to hide a laugh and continued scooting. His groans filled the air.

“Y/n!” He said. This time louder with more bass to it.

He was dangling off the bed about to fall when his eyes snapped open.

“Seriously?!” He lifted his head, looking over your body when you shut your eyes. “You have all that space—why do you need mine?!”

You could hear the irritation in his tired voice. If the clock on your nightstand wasn’t shining a bright 1:18 P.M., you would’ve felt bad. But it was way past bedtime and you were bored.

“Sorry.” You said, turning to face him. The guilt in your voice lasted only three seconds before you were back to your cheerful self. “But now that you’re up—we should do something.” 

His eyes were already shutting. 

You slapped his arm and they fluttered back open, his brown irises gazing at you under lowered eyelids. 

“If I weren’t so tired right now I’d say you did that on purpose.” 

“What?”

His lips inched upwards. “Try to murder me in my sleep.”

You groaned. “Of course I did!” The thought of staying in bed for another minute was dreadful. “And if you don’t get up, I’ll finish the job.”

“May will be sad.” He said, snuggling into his pillow.

“She’ll understand.”

He reached a hand out, laying it on your hip. You felt his fingers strum along your skin. “Fine.” He pulled you into him. His arms were wrapped around your back, holding you tight. “In a minute.”

“Peter…” You warned, but he was already exhaling soft breaths. His head was nuzzled into your shoulder and you weren’t sure how he could breathe from his position but somehow he made it work. 

“I’m going to kill you.”

He pulled you closer to him, and you didn’t miss the quirk of his lips before he gravelly replied, “in a minute.” 

———

a/n: doing NaNoWriMo & writing my first book! but this is my first time writing posting for peter in a while so enjoy

don't respost!

#peter parker oneshot #peter parker blurbs #peter parker x reader #peter parker fics #peter parker x y/n #peter parker oneshots #peter parker x you #peter parker x gn!reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #mcu!peter x reader

[spicler-man]

again and again and again by oriocookie

Peter has powers where he can resurrect himself when he dies. He finds this out at age six, when he drags himself out of the wreckage of the plane he had been in with his parents, five hours after he slammed his head against the wall and bled out. He learns quickly.

i have gotten the plot bunny out of my brain. have fun

#spider-man #peter parker #irondad and spiderson #peter parker fics #spider-man fics

[lilmaymayy]

WE MADE IT FOLKS 😍 i missed 100.. BUT HAPPY 109 FOLLOWS ‼️🔥🔥 WOOT WOOT🎉

THANK UOU FOR BEING HERE, LISTENING AND STAYING

smash that subscribe button, hit that like button n comment down below😈😈😈

#pls the second part is satire #PLEASE GET THE JOKE😅😅😅 #BUT GENUINELY THANK YOU #love you guys🥲 #i was just a lil blank blog out here #yall make me sick #i love love love you guys💋 #she speaks🗣️ #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #timothee chalamet #peter parker x reader #timothee chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet #the hunger games #luke castellan x reader #finnick odair x you #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chamalet #peter parker fics

[userholland]

rainy day inn | p. parker

after choosing to make everyone forget who he is, peter is still trying to adjust to his new life. with may gone and mj & ned in massachusetts, he's had to branch out and find new friendships to make. still maintaining his spidey persona, he keeps the city of new york safe every day and tries to not make past mistakes. everything has been different, almost like a useless re-do he wishes he could take back. nevertheless, he finds comfort in you, his neighbor that lives across the hall from him. the citizens of new york may need his help... until you come down with a cold.

pairing: nwh!peter & neighbor!fem!reader

genre: friends to lovers, neighbors to lovers, college graduate!y/n, fluff, being sick & one person being pure comfort, (sort of a) fix-it fic

word count: 4.3k

warnings: no real warnings. lots of fluff, domestic!peter, corny origin story as to how you met, sad mentions of ned & mj, overwhelming grief, just peter parker trying his best <3 and nwh spoilers!

a/n: a bit of a surprise fic but also my first peter one ! i think this is just a fun thing to write and i had some ideas after nwh so, now i can finally write them lol. but i hope you guys enjoy it and as always, i love feedback & comments! and check out my new biker!tom fic series here ♡

masterlist

The snow from winter’s past had melted away from the warm day. Sunlight radiates down on all of Midtown, cars driving through leftover black slush clogging the side of the streets or dirty snow piles getting smaller as they slumped next to the street corners. Every New Yorker was happy once the leaves started growing back, the flowers began to bloom from the fresh grass, and the warmth made it bearable to be outside. But with the nice weather, it also came with the early showers. Rainy days in New York were nice, as long as you wore a coat and had an umbrella.

Unlike everyone else in the city who were walking in the parks and going out to shop during the first week of Spring, you had been curled up in your fluffy sheets, fatigued from a common cold and stuffy nose. Not knowing it was going to rain down from your commute to NYU and back to your apartment, you spent the dreadful few hours drenched from the sticky rain and walking in and out of air-conditioned buildings all day, only to come back to your place that had no heat. Just the small portable heater in the corner, but it didn’t do much– similar to your broken radiator. 

A humidifier, tv remote and heated blanket had become your close acquaintances. The apartment seemed bigger when you had to roll out of bed to use the bathroom or find something to nibble on in the kitchen, even though there was a tight knot twisting inside your stomach. Used, crinkled tissues filled the small trash bin and around it, and an obnoxious pile of dirty laundry was stuffed into your hamper in the corner of your room.

Life was a mess, but there was nothing you could do about it with the fatigue that weighed on you and how head filled your head felt from how congested you became over the few days of quarantining yourself.

As another rerun of your favorite show played on the TV, three knocks hit against your front door. Groaning, you pouted from having to move from your comfortable position, slowly getting on your feet. The floor beneath you felt like it could shift at any minute, realizing how dehydrated you were as the room spun for a few seconds. Once you regained your balance and vision, you pulled your fleece blanket over your shoulders, pinning it close as you trailed across the apartment.

Holding the knob with the blanket over your head, you slowly turned it until the door cracked and there was your neighbor, Peter Parker. His slightly-gelled curls shined under the warm lighting of the hall, almost a caramel tone to the top of his head.

He smiled, “I figured you needed a pick-me-up.” He said, his hands holding a glass tupperware with ‘Parker’ written on the lid in a thick sharpie.

“You didn’t have to.” You pouted, opening the door wide.

He carefully passed by, “Eh, I could hear you coughing and sneezing from my place, so I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Yeah, I’m still not sure if it was from sitting on the freezing cold subway in soaking wet clothes or just holding the support pole on the bus.” You groaned as you locked the door, then followed him into the kitchen.

He scrunched his cute nose, “Probably a lot of both.” Peter jeered, setting the container on your kitchen counter.

A small smile curled on your lips, as much as you could with how sick you were feeling. You nudge your head against Peter’s shoulder while putting your arm around his waist to give a quick side hug. The fabric of his gray sweatshirt felt soft as you rubbed his back, and he chuckled against your head. He sealed his lips, his arm around your shoulders and his thumb grazing your blanket you were still bundled in like a snowsuit.

“God, sorry, I probably smell. I haven’t had any energy to shower.” You pouted, rubbing your hands down your dry face.

Peter hummed, “Why don’t you shower and I’ll heat this up. Maybe even run to the bakery downstairs and get that nice, french bread you get every other day.” 

“Hey.” You pointed at him, “Don’t judge me and my love for that bread. It’s a nice Italian bakery, it’s the only place I know I can get great bread.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“And that’s why I’ll go get it for you, especially in your time of need.” He jeered.

A heat rose to your cheeks, feeling it slowly spread across your face as you playfully swatted his shoulder before walking to the bathroom. As you turned the knob for hot water, you thought about how you couldn’t have asked for a better next-door neighbor than Peter Parker.

He was not only the nicest person you met, but also incredibly caring and gentle to anyone that crossed paths with him. There was an endearing quality to the brown-haired boy, whether it was the shy smile he randomly gleamed or the freckles scattered along his nose and cheeks.

“Hmm, well, since you mentioned bread, I’ll go shower.” You smiled.

Peter grinned at you before you passed by him, running your hand smoothly along his back. As you headed to the bathroom, he smiled at himself and his heart fluttered. He thought you were the nicest person he had met since everyone had to forget who he was. 

He was lonely, and almost felt lost more than he thought he would be. Although Spider-man fulfilled his caring duties of protecting the city, he wasn’t good at making friends in his GED classes or the part-time job he has as a supplemental tutor at the library. Well, until he met you one fateful, but sad, day.

After finding out MJ and Ned had gone off to MIT, there was no connection to be made anymore with them. Peter wasn’t sure how to cope with the sudden loss of his girlfriend and best-friend because of own decision. He tried to embrace this new, second life he made for himself, continuing to hold onto some kind of hope that a person would come along and guide him like his once best-friends and his Aunt May did.

That was until he met you one fateful Sunday afternoon.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

He was carrying up groceries from the farmer’s market in his reusable Ikea bags where the thread appeared loose and lightly fringed by the handles. Making an appointment to sign up for his GED classes, he stopped his pace when they saw you sitting outside of your apartment that was adjacent to theirs.

It was the second time you were locked out of your apartment, and barely having money for a proper meal, you couldn’t pay the fee to have another key made. Afraid of your landlord, there you sat in the hall and tried to trace your steps as to where the key could possibly been left. But in the city like New York, it was long gone wherever it may have been dropped and you weren’t surprised if someone had noticed, but not said anything.

“Hey. Everything okay?” Peter asked in his naturally kind tone, his phone still against his ear.

Your head shot his way, “Yeah, I just locked myself out. I lost my key… again.” You trailed, “And I can’t afford to pay for another so, I’m sort of just stuck, I guess.” You sighed.

His lips twisted, “I think I can help you with that.” Peter offered, still a stranger to you.

“Really?” You asked, having a bit of hope as your eyes brightened at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Um, if you could just watch my bags, I’ll go down and talk to him.” Peter kindly offered, setting the heavy bags in front of his apartment door.

You nodded, watching him walk back down the first flight of stairs and smiled from the warmness of his gesture. It was probably one of the more helpful times you had in New York after all these years, making you wonder if there was some catch once he got the key.

Unknowing to you, Peter checked his surroundings before opened the window on the start of the floor below yours. He balanced on the ledge before unveiling his web shooter under his flannel sleeve, whipping a web to a beam at the top of the building in order to lower himself to the first floor.

As he planted his feet to the brick, holding his hand around his strong-coiled web, Peter could see inside the superintendent’s office. He slowly opened the window, carefully moving his body to fit through and land on his feet… well, until he slipped on a newspaper.

Letting out a groan, Peter tried to silence his pain quickly by rolling over to his front side. He shook his head at himself before getting back up, dusting off his flannel and shirt.

“Now, keys… keys…” He trailed, clicking his tongue.

As sleuth as Spider-man was, Peter wasn’t. The drawers in the counter were heavy, they were loud when pushed back in place. The floorboards creaked as if he weighed more than an elephant. Even the tabby cat sitting on the couch meowed every other second, but it was more annoyingly high-pitched than alerting.

“Shh! Shh!” Peter put his finger against his lips as if the cat knew what it meant. He carefully ran his hand over the cat’s head, stroking the soft fur then seeing the cat lean up and pur.

As he kept the fluffy cat still, Peter’s eyes scanned the room until he saw the spare keys hanging along the wall on organized hooks. A smile grew on his face, slowly walking up to the wall until he heard footsteps coming toward the door. His hair stood up on the back of his neck before flinging himself to the ceiling, his fingers stuck as he arched his head watching the landlord walk in leisurely. 

Whistling, the landlord browsed the room, wandering around as if he forgot what he was looking for as Peter tried to stay behind his view. Just when Peter thought he was in the clear, the cat glanced up at him and began to meow. 

He wished he could tell the cat to be quiet, thinking his cover was blown until the landlord swooped the cat under his arm.

“Come here, you.” He cooed, holding the cat under his arm before walking out.

Peter closed in his eyes, sighing in relief before carefully dropping from the ceiling. Quickly swiping the key, he walked toward the window and climbed the wall back up.

You let out a long breath past your lips, blowing your hair away from your face. Doubtful and already upset, you began having doubts Peter would come back. It was a nice gesture, but maybe you should have just-

“I’m back.” He smiled walking toward you.

You furrowed the eyebrows at the key in his hand, “You got it? How?!” You asked in pure amazement.

He nodded, “Don’t worry about that, just make sure to keep this one.”

You glanced at him, still with a warm smile on your face, “Thank you so much… um, what’s your name?”

“Peter. Peter Parker.” 

“Nice to meet you, Peter. I’m Y/N. You’re like my new hero.”

He blushed a bit, “Hero? No… Just your friendly neighbor.” 

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

The steam opened your nostrils as the heated water covered your body, your muscles loosening around your neck from laying in awkward positions to be comfortable all day and night. You pressed your fingers along the back of your neck, rolling your head as well before actually showering– feeling as if this is what you needed all along and you were just in a rut.

Peter came back from the bakery, unknowingly taking a shortcut from the fire escape to get to the bakery. He cut the loaf into slices at the same time as microwaving the soup. As he continued to cut, Peter tried to remember May’s voice and what she did for him when he was sick.

He would have some of the worst common colds because of his many vigilante adventures, obviously unknown to her at the time. So, she would make him soup, pair it with warm bread and a seltzer if he had a stomach ache.

It made Peter smile thinking about the fond memories rather than crying at how he couldn’t relive them. He had been better at trusting the process of the future unfolding, constantly repeating May’s words.

“You have a gift, Peter…”

The timer loudly beeped, snapping him out of his past. He turned on his heels to open the microwave, opening the door and carefully taking out the bowl with pot holders wrapped on the sides of the glass bowl.

He hissed when the overpowering burn pushed into his fingers, but still placing the bowl carefully on the counter.

In the other room, you rung your hair out and dried it as best as you could. You kept taking deep breaths, inhaling the steam filled in the bathroom and your headache had lifted a bit from simply relaxing.

You quickly put on a comfortable tank top and slipped on soft sweatpants, stretching out your body in front of your window. As you pulled open the curtains, the gloomy day was nice to look at still. While you felt like absolutely shit, there was something peaceful and almost sweet about seeing random strangers walk about their days.

After popping an Advil, you made your way to the livingroom and saw Peter carefully setting the tray of food on the coffee table. You pouted, smiling at him as he set a comfortable floor pillow down as well.

“You know, you didn’t have to.” You trailed, a bit emotional at his care.

There were two slices of your requested bread, as well as a nice bowl of chicken noodle soup. It was nice having someone take care of you after being away from your family for so long, the feeling of homesickness always keeping into your heart even in a city of thousands of people. He radiated a comfort you hadn’t felt in a while.

“I know I didn’t, but I wanted to. How cliche.” He jeered.

Just as you were about to sit down, starved for a hot meal, Peter came back from the kitchen with a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. Already in a mood, you could cry right there. A part of you didn’t think he would remember a detail like what your favorite flowers were, or even the bread. Well, it wasn’t obvious that you were taking mental notes about him too. If you didn’t have this cold, you were going to ask him to go to his favorite ramen place once he was done with his classes. But, this was better.

As you brought the flowers to your nose, you wanted to smell them, but your nose was still a bit stuffed up.

“I wish I could smell them. They’re so beautiful.” You admired, gently running your fingers over the top of the petals.

“I’ll put them in a vase for when you can later.” He offered.

After he took them, you slowly sat down on the soft pillow and began to blow on your soup. Once you cooled it enough, the taste from your throat to belly was relieving. It was just what you needed after feeling sore and sick for the past few hours.

He came back with the flowers in the vase, placing them on the center of the table before sitting next to you. You glanced over at the windows, seeing drabbles of rain start to hit the window and the clouds hide away the sunlight.

“Feeling better?” Peter grinned.

“A lot better already, thank you.” You pouted, leaning your head against his shoulder.

Peter half-smiled, “Don’t mention it. You’ve been working hard lately, feel like I barely saw you.”

You giggled, “You’re one to talk. You’re like a disappearing act somedays. I think I see you in front of our building, but then I don’t. Riddle me that, Parker.”

He thought the way you scrunched your nose was cute, usually shown when teasing him for the smallest things, but it always comforted him. A warmness emulated from your personality, attracting him in his darkest moments. Whenever he reminisced on the past– moments with May, Ned or MJ– a tension formed in his throat, like he couldn’t breathe so much that tears felt involuntarily. But, you reminded him that although they were important to his past, there was a lot to look forward to in his future.

At some points, he’d brought up this MJ girl and you only knew her as an ex. You just didn’t know the context of her true impact on him and how she was another person who could peel back his layers. You’d hope to meet her since he said he had no hard feelings against her, and Peter didn’t know how to explain so he would nod and agree. 

“I’m a man that’s needed,” He joked, shrugging as well, “What can I say?”

Some days you’d tease him, saying he must have some superhero ability to get to you.

“You’re like The Flash.” You jeered.

It made Peter’s heart skip a beat, but he gulped, “C’mon, the Flash is so lame. Not a Clark Kent?”

“Well, maybe if I saw you in glasses.”

He chuckled, glaring at your lips but then back into your eyes. There was that split moment you could explain how you felt in a matter of seconds for him, just spewing out until there was no air left in the room. But, you thought that was just it. This was just a split moment before the anxiety and fear creeped into your brain– second guessing your feelings and thankful you kept your mouth shut.

You turned back to your soup, sipping it while it was still hot. You hoped the steam from the soup was making your face this heated rather than your heart skipping beats. Peter longed his glanced before turning back to the TV and didn’t want to mention anything either.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

A few minutes passed before your eyes felt heavy and your stomach was tight. Peter offered his soft hoodie after you ate, slipping it over your head and even the same of his roaming cologne was nice. 

Just as Peter lightly chuckled at the TV, he turned to you and saw your head tilting to the other side. The sound of the rain was slowly putting you to sleep, soothing the tense headache and tightness of your body. 

“Y/N, why don’t you go to bed?”

You hummed, “I’m just resting my eyes.”

“Which is sleeping.” He jeered, but you pouted at him, “C’mon.”

He lifted off his feet, helping you up from the floor. You weren’t sure if it was chills or the cold rain, but you were annoyingly freezing. Peter walked you to your bed, unfolding the sheets to let you sit down. You curled yourself to prevent the cold then Peter pulled the duvet over your whole body, pushing it under your frontside to make sure you were insulated. 

“Is that okay?” He whispered.

You responded with a faint nod, your eyes still closed and your face cuddled against the pillow.

Peter brushed your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear then tracing his curled finger along your jaw. Pulling the quilt over your shoulder, he gently tucks it in between your body and the bed before reaching over to plug your phone in to charge. As Peter looked down on you, peacefully asleep, he ran his hand over the top of your head a few times. You unconsciously mumbled, cuddling yourself further into the pillow and fresh sheets and it made him lightly chuckle.

You were and felt protected by him, even if you didn’t know his superhero persona. There was something about Peter that was magnetic. It could have been a lot, his personality, smile, even his sweet laugh. No matter where you were or what situation you were having in the city, Peter would always be a call away. It was pretty remarkable how fast he was, not sure how he does it. 

As he leaves your room, Peter takes a second glance at the paper on your desk. He thought it may have been a draft for a term paper, but instead he was shocked to see “Chosen Student Speaker” as the header. Peter lowly chuckled to himself and wasn’t surprised you didn’t tell him, probably already being nervous. But, now he would totally tease you about this.

After cleaning the dishes and cleaning up, Peter sat at your kitchen table and looked at some pictures through his phone. His heart dropped at the photos in his older gallery. Pictures at Midtown with Ned, the Decathlon team and even with May on their late night dinner finds. Perfect memories kept in a digital capsule and only able to remain as the past. As he scrolled to another photo him with MJ and Ned at the donut shop, you strolled out of your bedroom with more color in your skin and cheeks.

“Hey,” Peter quickly said, putting his phone down, “How are you feeling now?”

“Better. Very warm and refreshed.” You giggled, spinning around in Peter’s sweatshirt and your cozy bottoms.

Peter chuckled, “Well, I hope you have some energy to explain the paper I saw on your desk.” He raised an eyebrow.

You pondered what he meant until you lightning struck your brain, “Oh. That.” 

“You were chosen to speak out of your whole class? Why didn’t you tell me?” He smiled, but you sat next to him at the table.

You shrugged, “It’s corny. It’s just because someone asked me to.”

“It can’t be that bad. You’re just stage fright.”

“Well I’m no poet so, what else do I have to say but to just… congratulate?”

“I’d like to hear it.” Peter trailed, a half-smile painted on his cute face.

“No…”

“Yeah, c’mon. You need practice.” He teased.

You rolled your eyes in response before huffing, getting up to quickly get your speech paper then coming back to stand in front of him.

“Am I standing up like someone who’s confident?”

Peter smiled, “Of course.”

You cleared your throat, your eyes glancing at your paper.

“Students, Alumni, Parents and others, we are here today to celebrate something monumental. Today, we look forward to the future and feel grateful for the past. For all of those late nights, stressful moments and times we wanted to give up, we all made it here.”

You looked up at Peter who was smiling big already.

“In the city of New York, we have faced many challenges. I think it’s important for our students and everyone to understand that we will always come back together. We are thankful for those who help us in our darkest hours. Whether they’re your family,”

May.

“–a friend.”

Ned.

“–a lover.”

MJ.

“Or someone else incredibly important that one way or not would unexpectedly enter your life.”

Peter glanced back at you, his eyes becoming glassy.

“Whoever they are, it’s truly special to remember the support– like pillars– that hold you up in tough times. But, of course, we deserve to be able to credit ourselves the most to have gotten through this academic year.”

Although it was a speech for college, Peter could relate in some ways. It’s why it pulled at his heartstrings, like it spoke more for him than he ever could with his words. He sat there, encapsulated in your sentences and trying to hold back his tears.

As you finished, you got yourself to the end with heat brazened against your cheeks. You had to take a deep breath, and Peter just clapped and smiled.

“Beautiful, amazing!” He cheered.

You rolled your eyes, “Stop. It’s just… well, thanks.” You corrected your response.

You sat back down next to him, both of you smiling, but there were tears welling up in his eyes. Peter lowered his head to hide them, but you ran your hand over his curls. The rain continued to pour down outside just as Peter’s tears did when you held him in your arms. It was a hug he craved, and you were more than willing to give it to him.

“I didn’t think it was that bad.” You joked.

Peter stuttered a laugh, wiping his tears. He lifted his head and you pushed his hair back, wiping his tears with your thumbs. You traced them down his chin before holding his face, taking in how tired he looked just through his brown eyes.

“It’ll be alright.” You comforted him.

He nodded, but you pulled him back in for another warm hug. His arms slowly wrapped around your waist, like securing a lock and he sniffled against your chest. Eventually he’d open up, you just waited until that day.

*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*

When the afternoon turned to night, the rain slowed down and the traffic outside lightened up. Holding one another, Peter rested his eyes with his arms around you while cuddled in bed. You brushed your nose against his chin, repositioning yourself every few minutes and slowly rubbing his back underneath his t-shirt. 

Both of you wern’t sure what you were. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Partners. Best friends? Even neighbors. It all couldn’t be explained in a few short seconds, but moments like this was when those terms didn’t matter. All you needed was one another. It was like knowing there was a reason why you came together. Relating the same pain, the same doubts, even the same leaps of faith. 

That was all that mattered and neither of you planned to screw that up. You were each other's new beginnings.

#peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fics #peter parker x reader #nwh!peter parker #tshwritersnet

[liz-allyn]

📸 pretty pls

CELEBRATE WITH ME!

Oof, ask and thou shalt receive. Nonnie I give you…

mob!Peter who you spot in an alley outside of a auto repair shop where he just did some body work on a poor bastard who couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

You happen to work at a coffee shop that shares the same alley, and when you’re taking out the trash, you spot him lingering against the wall. You can feel his eyes on you.

Weird stuff 16+ under the cut.

Are you 16? Ok, now go away and come back when you’re 18, just because everything else I write is filth and I can’t take you seriously if you’ve never heard of the Beastie Boys. Anyway where were we—ok…

You try to go about your business, but those eyes. Against your better judgment, you look over at him to find them still glued to your body.

You make eye contact immediately, then look away, anxiously. Now it’s awkward. And you’re a nice person (perhaps to a fault) and can’t stand awkward silences. So you stand there, deer in the headlights, trying to play normal as his honey eyes drip all over you.

“Hi,” you squeak.

A small smile curves his lips. “Hi.”

He looks sinfully seductive, like warm gooey chocolate cake, and he looks at you like you’re a meal yourself. It makes your mouth water and your tummy quake, and all of a sudden you feel hunger.

Your eyes travel down the length of his arms, passed his rolled up sleeves, and down the length of his fingers.

He’s got hands that look like they could play the piano, or they were made to dance across a fretboard, or pull could beautiful sounds from any of God’s instruments. He was a composer, probably. A maestro. A conductor.

You lick your lips as your eyes wandered down the staff of his fingers, measure by measure, note by note, until you could see the stain on his fingertips.

Red. But not from ink. From the measure of an unlucky human.

Your tummy rumbled again.

At least now you know why you were hungry.

Reblog or comment and thank you for supporting fandom writers.

#Lizzy’s 600. #lizzy writes. #and a wild blurb appears #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm imagine #peter parker x reader #Peter Parker imagines #peter parker fics #peter parker mob au #mob!peter parker #the amazing spiderman #tasm andrew garfield #andrew garfield au #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield x you #Peter Parker x you #peter parker drabble

[shawnxstyles]

we need a part two when they finish the project please

sweetheart (part 2)

warnings: smut; (f- receiving [fingering, clit stimulation], praise kink, protected sex, slight cock-warming, dirty talk), and tiny fluff

note: i’m soooo sorry i haven’t been as active. once june starts i’ll be able to write more and post more stories, but right now i’m super busy. i have a few fics right now that i’ve started, but haven’t gotten the chance to sit down and finish them. so for now, please accept this blurb 😖 sweetheart part 1

—

you’ve always had a liking for school, in every aspect. unlike most people, you enjoyed doing homework and projects because it helped you understand the material you were learning. specifically, you adored science. you thought that the facts and what-ifs of the universe were fascinating, and you wouldn’t mind spending your whole life experimenting to discover new things. you absolutely loved chemistry and found it fun to analyze different equations to see what substance creates which reaction.

but right now, you’ve never hated science more.

peter is sitting on his computer typing away on the essay portion while you’re trying to focus on writing the poster. in all honesty, he gave you the easier job and you’re grateful, but you can’t seem to focus. not after he had his warm mouth on your pussy only two hours ago. every few moments, you would peek at peter’s fingers typing. you were getting so desperate to the point that each word he typed sent a tingle down your belly. when you two made light conversation, you swear his voice got a little deeper each time, and the rumbly rasp nearly sent you flying onto his lap.

“y/n, did you hear me?” you did not hear him.

“huh?” you blinked a few times, shaking all your dirty thoughts of his fingers from you. but they looked so rough and they moved so quickly, just like they did in you—

“are you okay?” no, you were not okay.

“uh, yeah, i’m fine,” you lied because you just wanted to finish the project, so peter could withhold his promise. that promise was the only thing getting you through this poster. there seemed to be a million facts and a lot of diagrams.

“what’d i say about lying?” peter asked with a head tilt and an octave-lower voice, his fingers halting on the keyboard. your heart skipped an erratic beat and your pencil dropped onto the poster paper.

“d-don’t do it.”

“good, you remembered,” he smirked subtly before typing away again. you take shallow breaths, wondering how he takes away your breath so easily.

the pulsing need of your clit and the burning of your stomach keep you from focusing. after ten minutes of hazily writing and sketching nonsense, you swallow your fear.

“peter, i was wondering if…we could take a break?” you suggested, pencil spinning around your anxious finger.

“sure, that sounds good,” he replies, but not the way you wanted him to. you watch as he saves his progress and closes his computer before walking around the kitchen island. he grabs two cups of water and hands one over to you when you appear at his side.

“oh, i’m not thirsty,” you smile to deny his offer.

“but you will be,” peter says nonchalantly before taking a smooth sip of his water. you feel the all-too familiar blush cascade across your neck as your eyes wander around the floor.

“are you all shy now? you didn’t seem to be when you were checking me out earlier,” peter taunts with a fake-innocent smile and places his glass on the counter. your eyes go wide for a moment, embarrassed that you were caught. “what? you didn’t think i saw you looking at me like you were going to jump on me? i know needy eyes when i see them, baby.”

the overwhelming heat of your skin fogs up your brain, making it impossible to focus on anything but the words leaving his lips. you’re silently begging him to touch you, to mend that ache in your cunt with his rough fingers. and hopefully, his cock. god, you want to see and feel his cock more than anything. you bet it would stretch you out for a whole week.

you swear you’re not normally like this.

“something’s on your mind,” peter observes with squinted eyes and a hand under his chin. “what is it?”

oh, just the idea of you fucking me into oblivion that’s all is what you wanted to say, but of course you didn’t. you mumbled out some gibberish that he couldn’t understand.

“i can’t hear you, sweetheart,” his words were so condescending, and in some twisted way, it turned you on so much.

“your promise,” you finally said, looking at his eyes. with each passing moment they grew from brown to shades darker.

“oh, i see,” peter tsks, “please, remind me what my promise was again? i seem to have forgotten.”

peter just loves games. especially the ones where he can feel your skin radiating fiery heat and watch your body squirm in its place. like he has all night, he’s been able to smell your arousal throughout the two hours you’ve been working. it utterly killed him to sit steady and type some scientific essay that wasn’t nearly as entertaining as your moans or ogasmic face. it was even worse knowing that you were just as desperate, but most likely didn’t want to interrupt your guys’ work time. what an angel you were.

but right now, peter’s never wanted to do more sinful things.

“you said…” how does he say such dirty words with ease? “you said we could continue what we were doing earlier.”

you lean your back against the counter, heart beating erratically in your chest as you try to remain cool. but your entire body was on fire and your clit was throbbing in your soaked underwear, so it was pretty difficult to stay focused.

“and what was that? use your words,” peter softly demands, licking his lips smugly. a never-ending heat cascades through your body, making your heart beat faster than ever. you breathe in, trying to get the courage to be so upfront.

“you said you would…fuck me,” you surprised yourself when you said the words. they sounded even bolder than you would have thought. every little moment he doesn’t say anything makes you think he’s just going to laugh at you. at this point, you think you’ve gone insane because you can no longer feel your heart beating. just the impending silence dangling between you two.

“good girl. now i remember,” peter smiles proudly and inches his way closer to you. his hand snakes up your neck and caresses your jaw. his thumb plays innocently with your bottom lip as your trembling breath huffs out. he could do whatever he wanted to you, and you would let him. “it wouldn’t be very nice if i didn’t keep my promise, would it?”

“no,” you waver out. your legs are stiffened together and your eyes are straining on his every move.

peter solely smirks before leaning down to kiss you. like the movies, his kiss is soft and pleasant. the way your lips molded together caused such an intense chemical reaction, and you would love to experiment on it. multiple times. every day. you would kiss him as many times as you could. you never would forget the magnetic feeling of his lips on yours.

your hands get lost in his brown hair, twisting their way through his ends. you’re so lost within his kiss that you didn’t even comprehend when he said “jump,” but you subconsciously listened and leaped into his hold. peter carried you to his bedroom, which you have been dying to see since you walked through the door. you believed someone’s bedroom said a lot about them.

however, you were too focused on other things to analyze peter’s bedroom. peter delicately lays you onto his black sheets, still kissing you like the world is ending. he slowly makes his way down your warm neck as you hum at the feeling. knowing what’s coming, you don’t wait for peter to ask permission behind discarding your own shirt. you close your eyes and tell yourself to not be self-conscious. he’s already seen you naked, so why be nervous?

seeing this, peter frowns slightly. his rough fingertip taps lightly on your temple. “open. wanna see your pretty eyes.”

your stomach tingles at his words before obeying his request. instead of smirking, peter smiles goofily and then kisses your cheek. a wave of warmth erupts through your skin at his affection. your entire body was covered in flames at this point, and you wondered if you would even be alive to get to the good part.

his tough hands roam your supple skin in hopes of exploring every inch. the rough texture left tingles in its trail.

“jeans?” he asks, looking up at you for approval.

“yes. please, peter,” you rushed and pleaded. your clit was begging for some friction, and you were about to start crying if you didn’t get something.

“gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart,” peter sang, thumbs rubbing the supple skin of your inner thighs teasingly. you wavered out a shaky breath, trying to conjure up the words.

“i need you so bad it hurts,” you whimpered. you were honest with peter, but your words weren’t what he wanted.

“i bet it does, baby. but that’s not what i asked,” peter flicks your clit through your underwear causing you to gasp at this unexpected movement. your thighs twitch and tighten at his teasing. he does it a few more times, just to get your body even more excited, and to get you to finally speak up.

“f-fuck! peter, i need your cock. i-i need you to fuck me,” you shouted, louder than you intended, but that was even better for peter.

“look who’s using her words,” peter says smugly, making your roll your eyes. you both assist in shrugging your panties off, making you completely naked while peter is still fully dressed. you reach for his shirt, but he’s already a step ahead of you and pulls it off himself.

when you see his body, you swear you almost faint. peter had six bulky packs of muscle on his abdomen and lumps of muscle on his arms. his chest was buff and tight, yet looked soft all at the same time. you had to blink a few times to make sure he was real. you even poked a finger at his stomach just to make sure it didn’t go through him like a ghost or a hologram. peter chuckles at your antics before grabbing your hand and kissing it, just like he had done earlier in the evening. and just like earlier, you felt yourself blush profusely and feel tingly all over again.

while you’re smiling like a goof, peter’s hands resume on your body. you instantly stop smiling because you remembered just how much he’s deprived you. but he’s also given you more than anyone else has in the past…

his digits caress your soaking slit between your crossed legs. you gasp because he’s finally touching you bare.

“open,” he demands softly, voice deep and lustful. shakily, you listen and do so. peter doesn’t hesitate to find your lips again with his fingers.

you quietly moan at the delicate pressure, feeling the smallest bit of friction. just as you were about to beg him for more, or to hurry up, his middle finger slips inside of you. it was almost embarrassing how easy it was. the amount of wetness you were leaking could fix the california drought.

“god, you’re so wet. what made you like this?” peter slowly pushed his finger in and out, thumb circling your puffy clit at the same time.

“you, peter! fuck,” you clenched around his digit, needing release already.

“are you thinking about my cock? hmm?” peter questioned, voice gravely as he leans over you. “are you thinking about me inside of you? thinking about how much i’m going to stretch your little pussy out?”

you groan at his foul language, pulsing barbarically. you’re straining to keep your eyes open, trying to obey his earlier request and to intake the moment. peter urges you to come, increasing his thrusts and pace. before you know it, your core is tightening and you’re squeezing peter’s fingers until you do. you thought you cut off his circulation from how hard you were clutching onto him, but when he pulls his fingers away and licks them proudly, you knew he was just fine.

“taste so good, sweetheart,” a smirk dances upon his lips as your taste lingers in his mouth. he’ll never forget that taste, no matter what happens after tonight. he’s hoping there will be more nights like these. more days too.

“can you please fuck me now, peter?–”

he holds up a finger to your lips.

“all of a sudden you know how to use your words and it still sounds so dirty coming from your pretty lips.”

in the blink of an eye, peter is reaching over to his night stand to grab a condom (hopefully). when you see the tinfoil wrapping, he stuffs it between your teeth, making you hold onto it. you then watch as he undresses his pants, clearly taking all the time in the world like he has it.

the smell of your orgasm and your wetness is haunting peter’s senses. the scent of you is never going to rid from his body or his room. he also doesn’t ever want you to leave, so he’s going to drag this out as long as possible.

once his pants are finally off, you get the courage to undo the wrapper while he’s taking his underwear off. holding the condom, you almost drop it once you see his length. he’s big, bigger than you’ve ever had. the tip of cock is bright red and leaking a bit of pre-cum, clearly just as desperate as you.

“fuck,” you mumble when looking at him. all he does is smirk before taking the condom from your hand and putting it over himself. peter leans over you again, face over face.

“ready, sweetheart?” his smirk lingers while you clench around nothing. you can feel the overwhelming sensation of your clit throbbing and you just want him to mend it. “ready to be fucked so hard you can’t leave?”

“yes, peter. fuck me hard.”

with your final words, peter is gently sinking into you. your wet folds encompass his cock snuggly causing you both to groan in delight. after a few moments, he starts to rock his body and you release a string of moans with every thrust. you try your hardest to keep your eyes open, but fail to do so. the sensations are indescribable throughout your body.

peter’s actions get harder, rougher. just like you wanted. he’s flicking his hips into yours with skilled movements while his face is relaxing in the crease of your neck. you feel his warm breath on you as he groans into your ear, lighting your whole body on fire.

“shit, peter, it feels so good. don’t stop,” you whine when he hits a certain part inside of you. your hand creeps down in between you both to rub the ache in your clit, but peter stops you.

“love when you touch yourself,” he grunts, never halting his movements, “but that’s my job right now.”

so, peter begins harshing rubbing your clit to no end. instead, your hands squeeze tightly on his biceps while he pounds into you so hard, you see stars. your never-ending wetness makes it so easy for him to slip in and out.

you feel yourself clutch onto his cock and when he moans, he sounded like the best thing you’ve ever heard.

“i-i love when you moan,” you croaked out, feeling too blissful to speak coherently.

“yeah? what else do you like?” peter huffs out, still smug as ever, even when he’s deep inside of you.

“l-love when you talk dirty, peter.”

“knew you were fucking filthy.”

with his rough words, you’re on the brink of your orgasm. your core tightens like it did earlier and your nails are digging deliciously into his skin. peter hisses in pleasurable pain, loving what you’re doing to him.

as your orgasm flows over you, your heart beats a million miles an hour and your breathing becomes staggered. the moans you elicit were just as filthy and pornographic as…well a porno. as you came, peter was smiling the whole time.

peter twitched inside of you and that’s when you knew he was close. you tangled your hands in his hair one last time and gave a single tug. that simple movement caused him to groan deeply and bring him to his release.

he doesn’t pull out quite yet. he just rests inside of you with his head on your chest. then after a few moments, he goes to get up.

“don’t leave,” you whisper and slide your hand through his locks again.

“it’s my place, baby, i’m not leaving,” he chuckles and slowly pulls out. you whimper at the loss of his cock, and at the feeling of being stretched out to the max.

“peter, i think you ruined me,” your voice cracked because it was hoarse and dry. you definitely needed some water now.

“good. are you thirsty now, sweetheart?”

—

tags: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @raajali3

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnxstyles #peter parker #peter parker smut #blurb #peter parker fan fics #peter parker au #peter parker fics #peter parker blurbs #requests #peter parker one shot #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fics #tom holland fan fics #tom holland c you #tom holland x reader

[izzylovesyou2022]

Peter Parker Fans:

who would be interested in reading a fic about him after Infinity War? Reblog/like/comment if so.

#peter parker imagines #marvel peter parker #marvel fanfiction #marvel #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #infinity war #peter parker x oc #peter parker x reader #peter parker fics #peter parker blurb #infinity war imagine #after the war #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfics #tom holland #spiderman

[im-a-satanic-ritual]

So lately I've been reading a lot of Spider-Man fanfiction and he is often depicted as being trans. I actually really love this headcanon and I think it fit his character well. But why is it always female to male transition? Yes, I know, keep it cannon, he's Spider-MAN. But why can't the story start as canon and then Peter transitions into a girl? I have so far not seen a single story that goes this way.

#spiderman #spider-man #peter parker #peter parker fics #trans peter parker #ao3 #fanfiction #why isnt this a thing?

[multiverseprincess]

gaslighter pt. 2

sorry for this, I'm getting the toxicity of my periods out of my system with these- THESE ARE NOT NORMAL BEHAVIOURS DO NOT ENABLE THEM.

tw: creepy men (not pete), overthinking, lots of it, stalking (pete), post-break up vibes and sadness, heartbreak, things left unsaid and angst galore.

peter realizes that maybe, just maybe a break up doesn't mean that he can't still know what you were upto. he thinks it's okay, okay to keep tabs on you through webslinging persona.

not only does he follow you silently through the streets of NYC, swinging, jumping rooftop to rooftop- he'd try to be there every night but he thinks (that's slightly pushing it) but he also, sometimes just fall asleep on the rooftop opposite to your building, listening in here and then- to check see what kinda day you'd had.

he's not moved on, not at the pace he's at- he thinks to himself that he's done, you were it and if he can't have you maybe he's just not meant for it, he's done playing god he thinks.

he hears it then, when he's followed you to a night out at a club with your friends, a guy chatting you up and asking you for your number- his heart is in his throat, he knows that it's not his place and the fact that he just gets to see you love your life no matter from how far away it is, is a merciful thing, but if you added someone else to that- it's a double edged sword he'd carry forever.

you allow him another mercy, you turn the guy down, gently, as if there's anything else you are- "I'm sorry, I'm not into dating right now", you'd let them down gently, wishing them a good night and a cheers.

peter smiles to himself and chuckles, 'cheers to you too lovely', he thought to himself. he thinks to how he'd get you in the first place-

you were working at a cafe he had dropped by randomly, he was tired and needed juice for his patrol and he barely looked at you, looking at the confectionery in the food display counter, the light from it falling on his face, it made him look ethereal to you and the fact that he didn't look up and was tired, made you feel for him.

as he ordered, still looking at the display, distracted and unfocused, rubbing his face w his left hand and apologizing for not being able to pronounce something right, he placed his order- "um, um- yeah, a decaf and that pah-mee-ay (palmiers)"

you cleared your throat and he was still nodding, digging through his jacket, when you clear your throat once more making him look up

and you held his gaze as you did something you would never do to a stranger, much less a customer- "so you want a decaf and a pal-meay (palmiers)?"

you said it your lip movements a little more pronounced, his gaze drops to them for a second, making you smirk and he nods, his cheeks heating up at being caught a second time by you.

he's not dettered though, age and experience have emboldened him- "yeah that's how you say that?"

"mm hm"

"yeah and how d'ya say your name?"

it's straightforward, he felt his heart in his throat but you didn't know it then- he just knew he'd be a fool to walk away without your name and your number and maybe a date.

he thought you were the prettiest person he'd seen in a while, well, atleast pretty to him- the kind of pretty that made his muscles feel like mush and his stomach fluttery. you made him want to try, and something told him you'd be worth everything and more.

and it stands true when you walk out of the club, for a breather and stand back to wall in the dingy alley behind the club. he moves closer to the edge of the roof at that, closer to your side, just as he did-

"hey dollface, where are ya peepin huh? night's still young" the guy comes in out, the vibes are making his Spidey senses tingle.

"just getting a breather", you replied with a polite smile

peter was on high alert, his senses were going off

"yeah your mind changed on the number yet?"

"yeah still not ready, thanks"

"that's a pity hunny, could've been going home with me tonight ya' know- have some fun, maybe a lot?", the guy moves from the wall opposite to you, getting closer as they replied, their right hand is put next to your face and before his put his left one too-

two things happened- you kneed him where the sun didn't shine and elbowed his chest, while spiderman webbed his mouth shut and pulled him up, much to your surprise and amusement

"My turn!", spiderman said, sweeping him off his legs- he webs the guy upside down from the roof, while you step inside to alert the creepy guys friends that they should get him, and if they like their bodies the way they are- away from the club to never return.

as you are about to step out again, bidding goodbye to your friends with plans of how and when everyone's getting home checked and verified- you see spiderman waiting next to the clubs doors.

you smile at him and start walking home, him falling in step next to you

"salutations mister spiderman", you sassed, wanting to keep whatever this was breezy, you were 6 drinks down and it was not the week to end with a bad trip.

"hey lovely", he chuckled, his boyish voice immediately activating that numb part of your heart, spurring it to life and now it aches, yeah- you weren't ready to see him again. no matter what mask he put on.

"I can walk myself home you know?, I'm okay I've got a fully charged phone too" you wanted him gone, you were afraid if he acted casual you'd actually say or do things you'd regret and it's not good street cred to be yelling at spiderman- ask JJ.

"It would make me feel better to walk you home tonight, please let me- you don't have to, trust me, you don't have to do shit for me, but if you can, please let me do this" for me more than for you he wants to add, but the way you stop walking and turn to look at him, something tells him you get it. he only hopes that you don't say no now, he'd not push if you did though- that's not what May raised him to be.

you fold your hands ask you reply-

"yeah and you're gonna go back to rooftop stalking after that?"

his blood goes cold for a minute and he wants to bury himself alive.

"y-you knew?", wow no defence at all, pete, wow.

"Spidey you aren't very sneaky, not to me, must be losing your touch", you tsk'd walking away frim him as he stood still, you swayed your hips a little more, you knew he liked to watch you- you never stopped him, wouldn't either. if there was one guy you wanted watching you it was him, just his eyes.

he snaps into motion as you turn a block and jobs to catch up- "you knew? you're not mad? annoyed? creeped out?"

"I'm not mad or annoyed, I saw you the first day after the break up and I know you've got sini-

he clears his throat and you look at him in surprise, oh yes, inside voice

"um, bad guys, so yeah, I know you're just looking out, I'm not mad or creeped out, you're just annoying w how hard you try to not be noticed by me" I'd notice you in a crowd, pete- you want to add.

peter nods, he wants to add- yeah and I missed you, I wanted you to be safe and I want to see you be safe, I miss you, will you take me back, ever?

he wants to say so much and he watches you look at him expectantly, he wants to have it out, take you to your place, maybe come in and God just sleep, hold you, kiss you a little or maybe more and just sleep dreamlessly in your arms but it feels like a luxury he can't afford and doesn't deserve.

so he just nods, nods and says- "I'm gonna walk you home and go back to patrol, stay on alert, yeah?"

#peter parker fics #peter parker ps4 #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #peter 1 #marvel #peter 3 #peter parker #peter parker x poc!reader #peter parker ps5

[inthemytdl]

Leveled Up

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Spider-Man gets tricky when you’re ready to take it to the next level and he’s not

Word Count: 1910

The first time you met Spider-Man you were sitting on the fire escape outside your window when you saw him climbing up the side of your building. His odd bug-like demeanor sent a scream roaring through your throat, which sent him falling down two stories. 

He never told you what he was doing there, but you had your suspicions. You had so many you sent a plethora of questions his way. He was surprisingly willing to answer some but avoided personal questions like his age. You figured he was around yours with his sometimes-squeaky voice and constant pop-culture references. You never thought they would bring you to this moment now. 

“Can I?” Your fingers tapped on his shoulders where his mask met his suit. You had never seen Spider-Man’s face before. No one had. But you had been friends for so long tonight felt like the right time—when was peering into your eyes as you looked into his white lenses. It was strange, but you had gotten used to them: the constant barrier between you and him. It kept your relationship at bay and ached your heart. You slowly lifted his mask like you were peeling away wallpaper when he grabbed your arms.

“Wait…”

You peered into his lenses for a response you clearly wouldn’t receive, so you dropped your hands and faced the night sky ahead of you. You could see the street that led to Duke’s, a knock-off of Delmar’s, according to Spider-Man, from the top of your apartment building.

“Can I at least get your name?”

The silence filled with the sound of his heavy breaths. You knew the suit didn’t cut off his oxygen supply so he must have been nervous. Though he had no reason to be. He was the one hiding behind red and blue lycra.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He whispered after a minute of gruesome silence. “It’s not safe.”

“Bullshit.” That was the same excuse he used every time you asked about his personal life and it infuriated you. The way everything you knew about him could be found in a newspaper. Each story he told was one you heard hours prior on the news—minus the witty commentary. Who knew Spider-Man was so into pizza? Everyone that knew Joe from Bleecker street’s pizza shop. Who knew Iron-Man was his favorite superhero? Everyone on Twitter. Nothing you knew about him was personal. It could all be found online. “New York’s the safest it’s ever been—this is about you.” 

“Actually, Linda from 3rd street almost got purse-napped the other day and—“ He rambled on about crime rates, anything he could to deflect the situation. Just like always. 

“We’ve known each other for how long.” You interrupted and he quickly replied. “Eight months and 28 days—give or take a day.”

“Eight months and I don’t know anything about you.”

“That’s not true—“

“And everything I do know everyone else does too!”

“No… I told you about that churro I had the other day—no one knew that.”

You pulled your phone from your pocket, swiping the screen to reveal a photo of him eating a cylinder shaped cinnamon stick. It had shown up on your Twitter feed after getting half a million likes.

“What?!” His lenses contracted as he peered at the image. “That’s my worst angle!”

You chewed your lips, refusing to give him the laugh he was so obviously looking for. You didn’t even smile. His unreadable expression made you bite your lips so hard a warm metallic swarmed in your mouth.

“Y/n,” he said, lifting a clothed hand to your face. His finger brushed on your lip and you pulled back when you looked into his cold lenses. Affection was always weird when you didn’t know who it was coming from.

“Don’t call me that.” You sneered, pocketing your phone as you stood. His lenses contracted.

“What?”

“If I don’t get to know your name then you don’t get to know mine.” It was petty, but nothing about your situation was fair. You told him everything. When you talked about your parents, he mentioned Stark Industries; when you gushed about your dream life, he raved about web-shooters and cameras; and when you bared your deepest secrets to him, he unveiled his affinity for board games. Because god knows he couldn’t find anything better to say, right?

“But I already know it…”

“Then don’t use it!” Your voice cracked as you continued. “A-and if I don’t get to see you then you don’t get to see me.” You b-lined past the patio tables and plant pots to the door that led into your apartment building. You hesitated when you grabbed the door knob, slowly twisting it as you squeezed your eyes shut. You wished to every star above that he would say something. All he had to do was ask you to stay and you would. 

“I-it’s Peter!” You stopped in your tracks, turning around. “What?” 

“My name. It’s Peter.”

His lenses contracted and expanded rapidly in a way that told you he was searching for a response, but your breath was caught in your throat. Peter. Out of all the names you thought of for him you never thought he’d be a Peter. You mouthed the letters, trying them out as your lips curved and expanded around the vowels.

“I’m from Queens and I live with my aunt.”

You stepped away from the door, allowing it to slam shut as you walked closer to him. 

“You asked about my parents…” He took a heavy breath you could hear from meters away. “They died when I was a kid—plane crash.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you went with the best thing you could think of. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” He exasperated. “I’m over it. Besides, my aunt took care of me with my uncle—he bought me my first camera.” His lenses fidgeted as he kicked at the ground. “But I took it apart to build an automatic can opener for my aunt.” 

You let out a breathy laugh and his lenses expanded. 

“It’s true! She never used it… until my uncle died.”

Your laugh came to a halt and you felt your throat constrict like earlier before. Who knew Spider-Man had been struck by so much heartbreak? You couldn’t imagine the pain of having a loved one die so the thought of losing three was inconceivable. 

“It’s okay.” He said after a tick of silence, but the hick in his voice told you it wasn’t. “He taught me how to play chess. He always beat me—didn’t let me win once. Now I just play monopoly with my aunt, but Mr. Stark and I play chess every now and then.” 

“Do you win?” 

“Sometimes.” 

You smiled, but it quickly dropped when you thought back to your earlier conversations. You never understood why he opted to talk about superficial things like board games and billionaires when you talked about your personal life, but it was starting to make sense. Those were his personal life. What he lacked in guardianship, he made up for with Tony Stark—who he couldn’t go three days without talking about. And his dreams were to build things—whether it were web-shooters or a portfolio of images. You knew he wanted to make things just as much as he wanted to play monopoly with his aunt and chess with his uncle.

The realization sent guilt rushing through your veins and you opened your mouth to speak when he interrupted. 

“You know… I’m not, like, some ripped stud under here.” He threw his arms around. “I did academic decathlon in school and I was in band.” 

“You’re a band kid?” You asked with a breathy laugh. It was news to you. But now that you thought about it, you could imagine him playing the trumpet or flute—although you couldn’t imagine him being good at it. For a web-slinging superhero, he seriously lacked coordination. 

“Yeah…” His voice dropped. “I didn’t want to tell you ‘cause I thought you’d think it was lame.”

“I don’t think it’s lame.” You wished you could look into his eyes and reassure him anything he did could never be lame to you. 

“And half of this stuff—“ he motioned at his web shooters “—I made from dumpster parts. I don’t have a fancy lab or new tech to work with. I can barely afford my metro card.” 

“What? You think I’m some gold digger?” 

“No, I just… I thought you expected someone more exciting. Not some band kid who can’t afford a ride to tenth street.”

“Is that what you think I’m looking for?”

He shrugged.

“Wow, Peter, you really don’t know me.”

You wished you could see his face. Did he smile at your use of his name? It felt foreign but you would get used to it. You wanted to get used to it. You wanted to say his name in the playful way he said yours when he was excited and the grainy way he did when he was sad. You wanted to sing his name, shout it, and whisper it. 

“Y/n—oh, shit, sorry, um what do I call you?”

“Y/n is fine.” You smiled, and his lenses expanded. 

“I’m really sorry.” 

You shook your head, running to hug him. His arms lifted behind your back when your chests collided and his suit scratched against your cheek when you shoved your face into his shoulder. He lifted his arm slowly and you pulled back when you felt a warm breath on your neck. 

You were met with a head of messy brown locks with slight curls to them. They were the first thing you noticed with their brisk movements, and you wanted to run your fingers through them, but didn’t. After, you noticed his crooked nose and the way his brown eyes shone in the moonlight. You could’ve sworn you saw freckles dotted around but it was too dark to tell. You ran your fingers over his face, lightly, and he parted his lips. Now that you’d seen his face, you couldn’t imagine him looking any other way. You moved a strand of hair out of his face, gaping into his eyes. Any other day you would scold yourself for being so awkward, but not today. Today you had seen Spider-Man—Peter—for the first time, and he was definitely a stud.

When you didn’t react, he cleared his throat.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

You shook your head, grabbing his face, and pressing your lips into his. Your heart stalled as you waited for him to kiss back. Was this too much? You hadn’t asked if it was okay—a decision you now regretted. You felt your chest explode with butterflies and began to pull away when he kissed back. His clothed hand rested against your cheek in a way that felt softer than before, sending the butterflies into a frenzy. Your knees felt weak and he must’ve noticed because his hands traveled to your back, holding you steady. You took in the non-industrial scent of his skin which smelt oddly like pumpkin spice, and it felt like hours until you pulled back, meeting his soft brown eyes. They were wide with surprise and sent a cheeky smile to your lips. 

“I’m not disappointed.” 

His pink lips pulled into a thin smile you couldn’t wait to get used to.

“So…” You began. “Can I get a last name?”

“We’ll work up to that.” He said, and you chewed your lip before kissing him again.

———

a/n: reposted w/ full version. enjoy!

don’t repost!

#peter parker oneshot #peter parker blurbs #peter parker x reader #peter parker fics #peter parker x y/n #peter parker oneshots #peter parker x you #peter parker x gn!reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #mcu!peter x reader #spiderman x reader #mcu!peter fics #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman x you #tom!peter x reader

[spicler-man]

something something something, we win by oriocookie

Framed for a tragic crime, Tony teams up with a scrappy shapeshifter to solve the mystery and prove his innocence.

@cyan-cirby you wanted to be tagged, right??

this is the nimona au!!!!! have fun it took so so long!

#spider-man #peter parker #irondad and spiderson #iron man #tony stark #irondad fics #irondad #peter parker fics #spider-man fics #tony stark fics #nimona

[landothemuppet]

Hey! Loved ' approval' so much!!💖 I have a request for you : being in love with your best friend Peter Parker and watching him fall for mj . 💞💞

Hello sweet anon. I'm sorry for the eternity wait, I hope you're still following me. It's been a while since that request has been asked. To be fair, this request inspired me so much and it took me so much time to write it than i decided to make a mini-series about it. You will find the first part just here please, notice me | part one

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland request #peter parker request #peter parker x reader #peter parker fics #tom holland fics