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#peter parker mcu
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peter and reader literally js making out and being adorable !
i kinda got carried away w this one so it’s a little bit ✨spicier✨ than intended-
!!! 18+ (MDI) !!!
content warnings — a really steamy make–out with Peter, sexual content, teasing.
✨masterlist✨.
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1.2k.
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The emptiness of Peter’s apartment carried his voice through the echoes, making the space feel that much bigger as you sunk into his couch. His Aunt May had gone out with some friends for the evening, making some suggesting jokes and comments that made you and Peter blush, even long after she’d left.
All the lights were off in the apartment, excluding the lamp behind Peter’s closed bedroom door, and the colorful glow of the television seated in front of you. You and your boyfriend were cuddled on his couch, entranced by George Lucas’s galactic storytelling. Your head had previously been resting on his shoulder, but due to Peter’s current geeky–tangent, you sat up to listen to him better.
“He used to make lightsaber sounds when they were practicing, and he’d have no idea.” Peter was quite expressive when he explained little Star–Wars facts to you. There was something about the way his eyes lit up, and he’d use his arms to guide the sentence.
You bit the inside of your cheek, hiding your amusement as best as possible whilst you listened. Your entire focus was set to him, but the passion he had for these movies never ceased to entertain you. The two of you had been dating for roughly five months, and from the little mental list you were creating of your favorite Peter things, these conversations were one of your top picks.
Peter’s eyes kept flickering back and forth from you to the movie screen, glowing happily as he went on with his vent about Revenge of the Sith, more importantly, Ewan McGregor. “He had been so used to making the effects when he was younger, that when they’d film their battle scenes, Ewan made the sound effects out of habit.”
As much as you had been paying attention to his words, your thread of thought was more occupied with the enthusiasm laced in his voice. The timid dimples that threatened to say hello in the midst of his smile, the ecstatic gesture of his hands, and the glistening tint of excitement that strung within your eye contact. You’d been so entranced by his little geek–out, you almost forgot to respond.
Your grin grew a little, despite every Star–Wars related response fleeting from your brain. You let the first thought you could muster slip through your lips. “You’re adorable.” You probably could’ve given a more thorough and engaged response, but seeing the red that flooded Peter’s expression made it all the more worth it.
Peter looked at you for a moment, completely flustered. He was off guard at the fact that ‘you’re adorable’ was your only response to his Star–Wars tangent. His lips parted a few times to speak, but his words failed every time. “Shut up..”
Carefully, you slid yourself closer to him beneath your shared throw blanket, looking up at him. Your head shook in response as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “No.” You replied between kisses, placing a few more across his face. “I need to tell you how sweet and adorable you are...” Sooner than later, your lips found their way to his, connecting in such a sickly sweet way.
The kiss you shared seemed to ease the nerves that accompanied the blush on his face. You could feel the warmth of his fingers trace your upper thighs, pulling one across his legs so you could straddle his lap. You loved the feeling of your lips piecing together; the upper, then the lower, and the way your bodies fit together just as perfectly. It was intoxicating.
“I need to tell you how sweet and adorable you are..” Peter spoke, breathless between your kisses. His voice hummed lower than before, rasping in the back of his throat. Even though he’d just been particularly focused on the movie, his mind now went to other places. Just the thought of your intimacy, mixed with the way his hands kneaded the plush of your hips, sent a thrilling sensation straight down to your lower stomach.
Eyes shut, you were the one to first part from the kiss. “But we’re talking about you, Peter.” You lulled, feeling the way his lips chased after yours to stall your argument. You tucked your head away from his, your left thumb pressing itself on his lips as a barrier. You took the opportunity to cradle his face with your right hand in the process.
Your eyes slowly opened to meet Peter’s, fighting a smirk at how desperately he looked at you. You stared at him through your lashes, keeping your face irresistibly close to his. “I’m not going to kiss you until you take the compliment..” You teased, speaking barely above a whisper. You trusted him enough to remove your thumb, not even a little surprised by how eager he was to kiss you again.
It was easy to dodge him, and delectable to feel the light brushing of lips on yours; the urgency and impatience in his breath fanned against your parted lips, driving you just about as crazy as it drove him. The power you held was ravishing. Tension was quick to build between the two of you, binding both of you that much closer together. It took every bone in your body to fight the urge and cave to his need for you. His head craned in closer, doing everything he could to press his lonesome lips back to yours.
Peter tried to find a loophole. His hands grasping at your ass, his lips trailed and teased at your jawline when you’d dodge him. He found it infuriating, but also just as enjoyable. “Fine...” He huffed, smirking lightly. “Thank you.” Peter met your lips hungrily when you kissed him again, as though he’d been deprived of your embrace for years.
The kiss was much rougher than before, fueling the growing need for friction between your thighs. You rocked your hips against his, pressing the ache in your core to his growing erection. A heavy breath caught in your throat, lips parting further at the pressure. It was easy to let the world around you melt away, getting lost in Peter’s touch as his fingers tugged on your hair, and traveled under the thin fabric of your shirt.
Just like that, the jingle of May’s keys fumbling at the door tied you back to the crisp presence of reality. You flew off your boyfriend’s lap, seating yourself beside him like you had been moments prior. Swift movements brought a pillow to hide Peter’s arousal, and just like that, it looked like you two were merely watching a movie together. Well, minus the matching red hues on your cheeks.
May hummed a tune quietly to herself, mirroring the smile you sent her as she walked into the dark apartment. “The girls and I are heading to Jenny’s for the night, but I wanted to grab my Hennessy.” She chimed, strutting into the kitchen like she’d be out in a jiffy. Her attention got caught on the television for a moment, her smiling growing. “Oh! Pete, you found it!” May glanced at you, “Did he tell you that he spent all afternoon looking for his collectors DVD? He was really looking forward to showing it to you.”
You watched the way Peter’s head hit the back of the couch, pressing his palms into his face to try and mask his embarrassment. “May, stop!” He whined, sustaining out the words to emphasize just how flustered he got. His words were muffled through his hands, but you still couldn’t help but find it adorable. He was just too cute. You just had to let the giggles slip through your lips.
Yep, no doubt about it; Peter’s geeky Star–Wars obsession was definitely one of your favorite things about him. That, and your steamy make–out sessions.
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webslingingslasher · 1 year
Text
Wait a minute, who are you?
Pairing: Peter Parker (mcu) x Reader
Genre: fluff,angst
Word Count: 6.5K
Summary: Peter's been hiding something...
Warnings: mentions of sex, small talk of an old creepy man being an old creepy man
(Part 2 of CRUSH but can be read alone.)
-----------------------------------
Why was Peter Parker refusing you?
Scratch that, why is your boyfriend rejecting you?
He surely had no issue letting you crawl into his lap after placing the computer in his lap to the left side of his bed, and he definitely didn’t have an issue when his raised eyebrows in question were silenced when you pulled him in for a bruising kiss by the collar of his muted flannel.
But funny enough when you started to trail your hands down to meet the skin beneath the thick cotton, just aching to slide your hands under his shirt and over his toned muscle, and rest your cool palms on his hot, beating chest, his hands caught yours in one.
You almost froze into the kiss, he’s never denied you like this.
You steadied your movements and when he noticed your lack of exploration he loosened the hold on your wrists, your hands this time traveling back up, taking a moment to ease him into your next move. You pulled back for a quick breath and resumed, this time you brought your hands down to the buttons of his flannel, you were barely able to pop one on his chest before he held each hand in his.
Peter pulled away from you, his one word was a whisper.
“No.”
Your turn to be confused, because, what?
“No?”
“No.” He shook his head lightly.
“Can I ask why?” He’s never stopped you before, but maybe he’s just not in the mood.
“I just don’t want to tonight.” Peter shrugged his shoulders casually.
But Peter does want to, it’s just that he has a black and purple bruise on quite literally the entire right side of his body. There was no avoiding the questioning, he’s gotten pretty lucky so far, nothing too concerning on his face or body that he couldn’t just play off. But this time he couldn’t think of a story that could justify that, and sometimes when he’s battered he’s had to wait until it was dark in his room, the only light is the moon peaking in the blinds. Or he would have to switch positions for the night, just to get you to keep from looking his way.
And Peter knows it wrong, and one day he’s gonna get caught in something that makes him confess before he’s ready and it will be a bigger issue than it should, but part of him likes that he’s just Peter with you and even though he knows he’s making the wrong decision he doesn’t want to tell you anything until you ask.
You tilt your head at him and purse your lips, trying to see if he was playing at something.
He looked genuine.
“Okay. Do you want to keep making out or do something else? I saw Battleship in your cupboard the other day, I’m sure I could kick your ass.” You grinned at him and played with the lapels of his collar while you waited for a response.
“Hmm, makeout please. Then kick my ass.”
He pulled you in for a kiss, and you tried to be respectful of his no. But old habits die hard and when lost in a daze of Peter’s tongue grazing your own you ground your hips into his. In an act of apology you placed your hand on his waist and squeezed lightly, you pulled from him slightly to mutter an apology.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean-”
Peter’s face scrunched up, almost like you hurt him.
You glanced at the hand on his waist and grabbed again, he grunted this time. You directed your gaze at him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hm? Nothing, you’re good. C’mere.”
You pulled your head back.
“No. What’s wrong?”
“Nothings wrong, I don’t know what you mean.”
You narrowed your eyes and squeezed. Peter did his best attempt at a poker face but you did it tightly this time, and even you saw the wobble of his lip in betrayal.
“That doesn’t hurt?”
“No.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m fine, baby.” He leaned in for a kiss, if you didn’t know better you would think it’s a distraction.
You squeezed again and this time he removed your hand from him and placed it on his thigh.
“Then let me see.” You tried to move the shirt up but his hand laid on top of yours.
“See what? Nothing is there.”
“Then let me see.”
“No.”
“Peter!” You whined his name, why was he acting like this?
“Y/N.” He kept his tone neutral, not a good sign. He was getting annoyed.
You wanted to see how far you could push him.
“Are you sore?”
He sighed, he knew in his heart he should’ve just taken up the offer for Battleship.
“No, I’m fine. I promise.”
“Are you hurt?”
“I just said I was fine, baby.”
You pouted at his claim, it was a bold face lie and you both knew it. In a quick moment you raced to throw his shirt up but he locked his hands around your wrists quicker than you could finish the plan.
“Stop.” He was serious this time, no more playing.
You knew he was over the interrogation by his grip, it didn’t hurt but it was tight. He was subtly hinting he would throw you off him if you didn’t stop.
Peter knows you’re confused and probably a little hurt because you knew he was lying and worse, hiding something he didn’t want you to see. He wonders what you’re thinking, if he’s sore from a new workout, or if he has hickeys all over he doesn’t want you to see, or maybe you were really just thinking why he didn’t trust you.
You held your hands up in surrender, this wasn’t fun anymore.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t ask again, maybe it’s sepsis and you’re dying. It’s fine, no big deal.” You lightly teased him, trying to show you weren’t trying to corner him. You just cared.
Peter rolled his eyes, “It’s not sepsis.”
“Oh, so you admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“It’s something.”
Peter just looked in your eyes with pursed lips, both of you refused to break eye contact. The room was silent and unmoving for a solid minute.
“I think it’s time for battleship.”
Peter tapped your thighs to get you to get off him so he could stand up and set up the game, you crossed your arms over your chest and challenged him for a moment, calling his bluff. Was he really about to ignore the whole situation?
The answer was yes, he was just blinking back at you and looked confused as to why you weren’t moving off him. He was prepared to let you win, he was just gonna say you were hitting ships even when you weren’t, just to make you feel like you won something against him.
You huffed and pushed off of him.
“Fine. But don’t let me win, I’m going to kick your ass just because I can.”
And even though you kept putting the largest ship in the same place, Peter let you win.
—--------------------------------------------
“Ouch, what’s that from?”
You frowned at the small graze across Peter’s face, a superficial cut that ran over his right cheek. You placed a light kiss to the mark as if you could heal it instantly.
“I was walking down 5th and May called and I dropped my phone. When I picked it up I stood back up into a bush, got me a good one.”
“It looks like you got hit with something.” (He did.)
You ran your thumb over the injury.
“Yeah, Mother Nature.”
“That’s not a fight I think you can win, dear. But, now my boyfriend looks like a tough guy.”
Peter can get behind that idea, some big strong man you hide behind who doesn’t take shit from anyone.
“Ah, does that do something for you? I can start picking fights if that’s what you want.”
You scrunch your nose at his teasing, “Nah. I love my soft, mushy boyfriend. He’s so nice and kind, he could never hurt anyone.” (He could.)
And those are the kind of comments that make him feel bad, because how was he supposed to tell you he actually is picking fights and isn’t so nice and kind sometimes.
Too bad your hug is crushing him and all he can feel is what he thinks is the right decision.
—-------------------------------------------------------------
“Ah! Fuck, what the fuck!”
Your heart raced and you held a hand over your chest to try and regulate the pulses. Your senses bounced off the brick around you, in an effort to catch your breath from the fright you breathed heavily for a second.
“You scared the fuck out of me.”
“Sorry! I thought you heard me!”
The red and blue hero dropped behind you and didn’t say a word until you felt someone watching you and turned ready to scream out ‘Fire!’ and had the daylights scared out of you.
“It’s fine, just got my blood racing a little.”
“What’s up? Long time no see.”
It’s true. You hadn’t seen the masked vigilante for a moment, he was never around or at least wasn’t around when you were.
“Nothing much. My birthday is about to come up, Peter and I are coming up on six months. But, we're also in a rough patch right now, so yeah. That’s fun.”
Rough patch?
You were in a rough patch?
“Rough patch?”
“Yeah. It’s whatever, I’m sure it’s fine.” You shrugged but if you were being honest you were actually kind of losing sleep over it.
“What do you mean?”
Yeah, what do you mean?
“Uh, he’s hiding something from me. And I can’t tell if it’s something big or not, and I’ve really been trying to be cool but if I’m being honest it’s really starting to fuck with my head.” You gave a small laugh at the end but even he could tell it was forced.
Was him not being honest ruining the relationship?
“When did that start?”
Did he start to let his guard drop?
“I don’t know. I think he’s always been kind of, I don’t know. He’s not like, secretive but he’s kind of private, but not really? I mean I can ask him anything but sometimes I can tell he’s just talking around the topic, you know?”
“And recently it’s been getting worse. Like, sometimes he won’t let me touch him. And I don’t think it's me, it’s just because he doesn’t want to be touched. It’s almost like I’m hurting him, and now I can’t help but think maybe he has trauma or something but that’s not a thing you ask outright. I can’t help but think we’re both waiting for the other to bring it up first.”
Ouch.
He’s made his girlfriend feel like shit.
That’s not being the best boyfriend he promised he would be.
Ouch.
“I think you’re right. It not being a you thing, I mean. Maybe he has something he’s not ready to share yet.”
You let out a heavy sigh.
“I know. And I know this sounds shitty, because I want him to work this out on his own and come to me when he’s ready. But, I also want to know I’m not crazy and that there is something he’s hiding. And I can’t just ask if he’s hiding something out of the blue because then he’s going to lie and I really, really hate that he’s been lying. And we both fucking know it, I mean he just looks at me and we both know what he said was a lie but neither of us comment on it.”
Yeah, he feels like shit.
“I just…” You trail off, and for the first time in the past two weeks spiral you cry. And you cry hard, your breaths tremble and you squat with your head between your knees to collapse the spinning thoughts around you.
Peter doesn’t know what the fuck to do.
Because he wants to wrap himself around you and tell you it’s okay.
But he doesn’t think Spider-Man would do that.
So he doesn’t.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, just breathe okay?”
You sniffle and rub your eyes.
“I just really, really love him. Why doesn’t he trust me?” Your voice broke and Peter had to look directly into your teary eyes through his mask and tell you he doesn’t know.
—---------------------------------
It was another Saturday night where Peter was rejecting your advances.
It has been happening more frequently, not super often but enough to make you question something. Peter has just been more on edge, and now that he knows you’re looking for something he doesn’t want to risk it.
You pulled from him and sighed.
“What’s the no for this time?”
He feels like he should be honest.
So he is.
“I have a bad bruise and it hurts, I scraped up my side and it’s ugly.”
“Can I see it?”
“I don’t really want you to.”
At least he was being honest, and that is something you’ll take.
“Okay. Thanks for telling me.” You grinned at him, and pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth.
“Can I ask what happened?”
“I rubbed it against a building, no biggie.” (He was swinging quite fast and was too busy looking at a pigeon trying to fly off with a whole sandwich.)
“Ouch.” You frowned and looked down at his torso.
“Where is it?”
Peter ran a hand over his left rib area and you ducked your head down to place feather light kisses over his shirt.
He sighed and rubbed at the back of your head.
“Feels better already.”
—-----------------------------------------------------------
“Let me kiss it better.”
Peter pulled his hand away from you and hid it, he didn’t want you to kiss it better. You had just walked in two seconds after he dropped the suit from his body, his cheeks glew at the wolf whistle you gave his mostly naked body.
You clocked in on his scraped knuckles, you weren’t sure how it happened but you’ve learned Peter is pretty clumsy. He was usually scraped, cut or bruised somewhere but never so much it drew out real questions you wouldn’t let him escape from.
Peter on the other hand tried to play it off, but in reality he hasn’t washed the blood from his hand yet and he’s not sure whose it is. Was it his or was it from the teeth scraping across as he punched some guy in the jaw a few dozen times?
He didn’t want you to kiss a stranger's blood, even if you took it as rejection he wouldn’t give in and let you win.
“It’s okay, baby. Doesn’t hurt.” (It actually didn’t this time.)
“But it’s my job to kiss your boo-boos.”
“Not tonight, I’d rather kiss you.”
He’s gotten better at redirecting your thoughts.
“I’m okay with that, but don’t put on pants. Just a waste of time.”
You winked at his boxers and nibbled on your bottom lip.
Tonight he didn’t object.
-------------------———————————-
Everything Peter was scared of happening was happening right now.
He doesn’t know how you got here, and he doesn’t know how he stumbled upon you but he is so glad he did. You were currently soaking wet and shivering while heaving breaths, your face was red and wet, he wasn’t sure if it was the rain or tears.
What you were doing in the pouring rain almost two hours into the Bronx is beyond him, he just wanted you home, dry and safe.
“What’s going on?” His panicked questioning made you cry harder.
“I’m not, I don’t, please help me. Please.”
“Okay, okay. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you. Can you do that for me?”
Peter watched as you calmed your breath, shoulders shaking from the cold rain on bare skin. Your breaths came in stutters as you tried to speak.
“My phone is dead and I don’t know where I am. I fell asleep on the train and I had to get off and I tried staying in the station but this old fucking creep was following me around,”
Peter’s heart sank.
You were terrified, lost and cold.
“So I came out here and I forgot my jacket at Peter’s and, and, and. I really need him, can you call him please?”
Peter froze.
He can’t call Peter, he is Peter.
“I don’t have his number, I can help you, it's okay.”
Spider-Man tried to reach for your arm but you recoiled and broke into a sob.
“No. Please call Peter, please. I know his number, I would call him on the payphone, I tried but that guy came up right behind me and was pressing into me.”
He felt worse by the second.
You just really, really needed him.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“It’s your job! You’re supposed to help. Please call my boyfriend.” You became bitter but it was just nerves.
“I can’t. I can’t give out my number like that, you have to understand. I can get you back home safely, that’s the best I can offer.”
“I don’t want to go alone, he can come. He will come, just call him. He won’t leave me here, I know he won't.”
He knows he wouldn’t either.
But he’s not Peter right now, and he can’t be no matter how much you need him.
“I’ll ride with you. Just so you’re not alone, would that be okay?” He was almost pleading with you, out of every other time he wants this one to be the time where you just shut up and listen.
“I just really don’t want you right now, I’m sorry.” You sniffled and shuffled away from him, blinking away the rain droplets on your eyelashes.
Peter doesn’t know what to say.
You won’t listen to Spider-Man, it’s not who you want.
“Would you come with me to call him? I understand you can’t call him but just so I don’t have to go back down there alone, please?”
Now he has to watch you get ignored 3 times because he can’t answer, he’s right next to you. And he’s staring down the old guy four benches down looking you up and down from the side. After the third call with no answer you slammed the phone down on the hook.
“I don’t know why he didn’t answer. The one time I really, really needed him to answer he didn’t.”
Peter really wishes he could tell you he’s right there, just one arm length away.
“Let me take you home, he probably just has unknown callers silenced. No need to panic, okay?” Peter cautioned the words scared for a blow up on your end but it was worse, it was defeat.
It was disappointment.
It was hurt.
Peter had let you down.
And he watched himself do it.
“What if he calls back?”
“He can’t. You can’t call payphones back.”
Peter isn’t sure if that’s true, but he does know that the phone will never ring.
“Okay. You can take me home.”
Three stops before yours you told Spider-Man he could leave. You promised you would be okay and that you really appreciated him taking the hours out of his evening to get you home even after you freaked out on him.
As soon as the doors opened you were met with the worried eyes of your boyfriend, a smile broke over his face as you stepped through. You were confused but more than anything, you were safe, comforted, and warm. He was so, so warm. And he had a jacket for you.
“How did you know I was here?” Your cold nose was buried in his shoulder.
“Private caller. They left me a message and said you were here and waiting for me, heard you got a little lost.”
“I was so so sacred. Spider-Man found me, and I was begging him to call you. I wonder if he did, I called you three times.”
“On the payphone? I have unknown callers silenced, from now on I’ll keep them on okay? I’m sorry you were scared, it’s a good thing Spidey was there huh?”
You shook your head and pressed into him for a hug.
“There isn’t anyone or anything that makes me feel safer than being right here.”
Peter decided then he has to tell you.
—------------------------------------------
It’s fair you’re pissed at Peter.
He knows it’s fair, he just hopes you’ll still date him after this.
And of course he was right, you found out before he was ready to tell you and he knows it’s gone on too long, and there wasn’t going to be an easy way to break the news but you finding out on your own made you spiral into a frenzy and now you refused to speak to him.
He had just washed his suit, and with the technology he couldn’t dry it so on wash days he kept it hung in his closet to air dry until he would use it that night.
Then you came over and rolled around in his bed, then begged him to make you a grilled cheese, then begged to watch the new season of reality TV on Netflix, which he hates but knows you love the drama. He also feels a little good because the whole time you cling to his arm and watch the guys berate their new fiancès and tell Peter you’re so glad he doesn’t act like that.
It was totally normal until the evening.
You had asked to take a shower before dinner, and sat on his bed with your wet hair dripping down your pajama shirt, and his fan iced the droplets and it sent chills up your back. You were planning on spending the night and so in your shivers you dug yourself under his blankets but the cold had already settled into your bones and you were contemplating getting a hoodie of Peter’s out of his closet.
“Hey.”
You were almost at his closet doors when he interfered.
“I’m cold.”
“C’mere.” He opened his arms for a hug but his warmth wasn’t settling the chill in your body.
“Want to do chinese? If not, we can do that pasta thing again.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure yet. I’m too cold to decide, I’m gonna grab a hoodie.”
You broke from the hug and Peter stepped to the side in front of you again.
“I can grab it.”
You rolled your eyes with a grin, you’re not sure if Peter’s love language was more acts of service or physical touch.
“It’s okay, I can manage.”
You tried to step to the side once more but he followed you.
“No really, I insist.”
Even with a smile on his face you saw the slight panic, he didn’t want you in his closet.
“What? Are you hiding your other girlfriend in there or something?”
He was hiding something in there for sure. Just not another girl.
“Oh yeah, there’s another one under the bed too. I’m surprised you didn’t see the third one hiding in the shower.”
A shudder ran down your spine and you were able to place a hand on the closet handle before Peter leaned against the doors so they wouldn’t open.
“I got it.”
You furrowed your brow at him, why was he acting like this?
“Yeah, I can too.”
“No really, let me.”
You don’t know why but suddenly you were warm with slight rage, why was he being so fascitous? There was no reason for him to be trying so hard to keep you from opening the doors but there was.
And you didn’t know why.
“No. Let me.”
You pulled at the handle but it didn’t budge under Peter resting against it.
“Peter, move.”
He thinks this is the moment. You’re about to find out and he’s terrified.
“Baby I don’t mind, let me take care of you.” This was his last plea, hiding behind wanting to take care of you and not because he was trying to hide his suit. Not at all.
“What are you hiding?” You jiggled the handle again.
“What? Nothing.”
“No, it’s something.” You weren’t even cold anymore, this was about standing your ground.
“I don’t-“
You cut him off, you were done with the lies.
“Then move.”
Peter stayed silent this time.
He was about to let you in.
He was about to watch the other shoe drop.
You pushed his shoulder to move him off the door and he stumbled away while holding his breath. He wasn’t even as half as nervous when May found out.
You opened the door and let out a breath.
“See? Did it just fine on my own.”
Your hand ran across the right rack looking through the hooded collection searching for your favorite. You didn’t get why he was so adamant on you not doing this yourself, there was absolutely no issue.
You slipped the thick blue fleece off the hanger and turned sideways to close the door, and when the door was almost shut your breath hitched, did you just see what you thought?
Peter stayed still, he knows you saw.
You slowly cracked the door back open and looked at the left rack. And it was there, hung up. Just spandex and so innocent looking, you almost told yourself it was just an authentic replica. A costume.
But you knew better.
And by his reaction, or lack of, was answer enough.
You dropped the sweatshirt to the ground and ran a thumb over the shoulder of the suit, the same texture that was on your cheek when you asked him to not beat up Peter.
Peter was Spider-Man.
Your boyfriend was Spider-Man.
You confided in him several times, about him.
You felt so dirty, and played, and dumb, and belittled. Each time you talked with him replayed in your mind, every conversation and accusation.
It was so unfair.
Peter always had the upper hand, and you weren’t even aware he did.
Peter just watched your reaction, your thumb didn’t move. You didn’t move, just stayed still until your hand dropped and when you turned to look at him he stayed silent waiting for you to break the ice.
He was going to wait until you asked him a question or all of them, but you didn’t. You just shook your head at him and shoulder checked him as you walked out his room and headed to grab your bag by the front door to leave.
“Hey, hey, hey. Stop, let’s talk.”
“You don’t want me to talk to you right now.” You sounded so bitter, so hurt, so angry.
“Yes I do, let me hear it.”
“No. I literally don’t even want to see you right now.”
Peter moved to stand in front of the door and true to your word you had your head turned to the wall in effort not to look at him. Even seeing him, watching him try to handle this with ease unsettled you. He didn’t realize how uncomfortable you felt right now.
“Baby, let’s talk, okay? I’ll answer any questions.”
You laughed bitterly at his words, funny now he was the king of honesty.
“You know maybe you can send Spider-Man out to collect all the intel on Peter and I’s issues.”
“Hey, that’s not what I meant to happen.”
“Fuck off, Peter. I really, really don’t want to be around you. But, you know, I’m sure Spidey will track me down and ask me about an issue he somehow knows I’m having.”
He shook his head and tried to defend himself, “That’s not-“
“That’s not how it happened, I get it. The first time was a fluke, I’ll give you that. But every other time you knew who I was, and what I wanted. You played into it, you should’ve ignored me. You shouldn’t have kept tracking me down or talking to me, you had an unfair advantage the entire time.”
“You should’ve never talked to me as him after I told him I liked you. That is dirty behavior and now I really don’t trust you, I mean what else are you hiding?”
Peter knows in his heart this was deserved, he knows what you mean, and you’re not wrong. He knows in his heart that he only cared and was checking up on you but to you it felt like he was playing you.
“I know, I know. I wanted to tell you, I really did, I swear. I just really liked that you didn’t know, and it wasn’t even sadistic, I just liked being just me around you. I didn’t want to explain every detail of what I do, or what I did that night, you know?”
“No, Peter. I really don’t know, I didn’t talk to you like a third party person and pretend like I didn’t actually know you. I was only honest with you, and you weren’t. I genuinely don’t know what is real or a lie anymore.”
You were hurt and confused and honestly it was fucking hard with your head, did he act or say certain things because you told Spider-Man what you wanted?
Was he ever going to actually tell you?
“I love you. And I know I messed up, but I promise nothing was a lie. Everything I told you about Peter as Spider-Man was true.”
And Peter was being honest, he didn’t mean to mess it up this hard. He knew you wouldn’t be happy but he didn’t expect you to question the entire relationship.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I know I should’ve but I didn’t want this to happen.”
He pointed between you two and your face hardened, he didn’t understand your point.
“This isn’t happening because you didn’t tell me you were Spider-Man, I get why you didn’t tell me. This is happening because you kept using it to your advantage, and you knew what you were doing. You should have left me alone. That’s why this is happening.”
Peter wasn’t sure how to navigate this anymore, everything he said was the wrong thing. Maybe you were right, he should’ve let you leave, you weren’t ready to talk about this right now.
He let out a sigh and rubbed at his forehead, he understood that you needed space and talking it out was making it worse.
“Okay, okay. I know you’re mad, and hurt and upset with me right now. And I don’t want to fix that, I just want you to work through this with me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Do you want to leave? If you need time away from me it’s okay.”
“Yeah.”
You threw your backpack over a shoulder and passed by him towards the door before he grabbed your wrist.
“I’m sorry, and I love you.”
“I know you are.”
Peter frowned at the response.
“You’ll call me if you need something right? We’re okay for now?”
You nodded at him and pulled your wrist from his grasp.
“We’re okay. I love you. I’ll call you later.”
At least you said you loved him back, but he couldn’t help but feel off after watching you leave without a glance back.
Peter feels like he’s really, really messed up.
————————————-
“Hi.”
Peter whipped his head down at you, he wasn’t expecting you to approach him in the suit, especially after yesterday. You hadn’t talked to him for a whole twenty four hours and he actually felt like he was going crazy. And he didn’t realize how often he texts or snapchats you or sends links until he decided to leave the contact up to you.
He wasn’t upset at you, you were upset at him so he thinks it’s fair that you come to him first. But he really wasn’t expecting that it would be a day later, maybe a few days at least if he was basing it off of how upset you were yesterday.
“Hi.”
“I missed you.” You sniffled.
“I missed you, too.”
Peter watched you slowly trying to gauge your reaction, he genuinely couldn’t tell what you were thinking and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“Wanna talk?”
You nodded your head slowly, and looked around the space you were in wondering if it was a quiet enough spot. Off the busy street you tucked away into the corner of the alleyway, your eye catching the webbed bag up the wall.
He jumped off the roof and followed you and waited for you to talk, he watched as you soaked him in for a second. You’ve seen Spider-Man before but now knowing he was Peter you looked at him differently, you were drawing over his curves and dips with your eyes and you reached out to run a hand down his front.
“Can I… Can you take off your mask?”
In an instant he pulled it off and you watched as his hair fell down in a fluff, you reached a hand out to smooth over the curls, trying your best to place it the way he normally has it despite knowing it was about to get ruined.
“Feels weird seeing you in the suit, it’s like you’re cosplaying.”
“How do you put it on?” You traced over his chest and then turned him around as you searched for a zipper.
“The spider.” He lightly ran his glove over the emblem and without understanding the concept you pressed the spider confused with the steps.
“Oop!” Your arms flailed as you were unsure what to do, in one motion the suit expanded and quite literally fell off his body. Even hiding in the corner you tried to shield him from any outside views.
Peter giggled as you fumbled around, he drew the suit back up and grabbed your hand to press the spider as it conformed back into his shape.
“Sorry, I didn’t know it would do that.”
“It’s okay.” He smiled warmly and you were desperate to kiss him so you did.
“What’s up?”
You bit the inside of your cheek and pondered on what to say, or more what to ask. More than anything knowing that your boyfriend was now an open book and was willing to answer any questions you had.
“Can you see out of that?”
You pointed at the mask in his hand.
“Mhm.” He nodded.
You couldn’t picture how, it looked like mesh. In fact when you ran your thumb over it, it felt like mesh.
“How?”
“Well my senses make it hard to-“
“No, how did it happen? How are you him?”
“A spider bite. Radioactive spider, I didn’t realize until the next morning that something was up. I woke up and felt like my head was splitting open cause I could hear the entire city in my head.”
“When?”
“When I was 15.”
“Who else knows?”
“May, MJ and Ned.”
You nodded slowly, everyone knew.
And you didn’t.
“If it makes you feel better it’s not just you I never told, everyone just found out on their own.”
You hummed and nodded your head.
“So everytime you said no to sex you were hiding a Spidey ingury?”
“Correct.”
You didn’t know how to move forward, what happened next? Do you forget what happened?
You do understand why he didn’t say anything, but he also should’ve never interfered after the first time. You can’t help but feel a little violated, and it’s not like you cared Peter knew what you said, it’s how he was hearing that bothered you.
“I’m still upset at you.”
You sniffled again and rolled a pebble under your foot, you watched Peter frown before looking behind you and pulling you into him and behind the dumpster.
You pulled a face of confusion until you heard chattering voices and group laughs walking by the clearance. His strong hearing impressed you, it was new seeing him react to his senses in front of you.
“I know, baby. And I understand, I know what I did was wrong. And I don’t want to try and justify it but, in my mind I was just caring for you. I didn’t even think of it like that, and I don’t know why I didn’t. Cause I’d be peeved if the situation was swapped.”
Peter was honest, he knew after sulking all night he was wrong. He did exploit his position but he just loved you and cared for you and just wanted you to feel safe and heard, but you wanted to do all of that with Peter, not Spider-Man.
“You know what hurts me the most?”
Peter doesn’t want to hear it.
“No, what?”
“When you didn’t tell me that day when I got lost. I was fucking petrified and I needed you, you saw how much I needed you and you just went along with the story. Looking back on that now I just feel so hurt.”
Peter felt his heart drop.
He let you down.
He knows he did that day.
It just really hurt having you confirm his fears.
“It really, really hurt me not to tell you. And that doesn’t compare to how you felt, I just want you to know that even though I caused this, I didn’t feel good doing it.”
Peter wasn’t evil, he was a sweet boy. Just a little unaware.
And that’s what you loved most about him.
“That's it, right? No more secrets?”
Peter laughed and nodded his head.
“That’s it. I promise.”
“Total transparency?”
You raised your hand to shake his and spread your fingers over his gloved hand, warmth seeking into your palms.
“Total transparency.”
You bit your lip and over exaggerated your hand shake.
“Good. Cause I have some questions.”
“I’ll answer all of them.”
“Okay! Did you get all your powers at once or was it one at a time? How fast can you swing? How slow can you swing? Have you ever hit a bird? When do you eat? Wait, how do you pee? How do your webs work? Please don’t say they come out of you.”
You paused for a gulp of air and watched Peter’s eyes go wide.
“Are all your senses effected? Can you super smell now? And how do your senses work? Could I wear the mask? Or does it only work for your head? Wait, do you know Tony Stark? Could I meet Tony Stark? Do you have a room at the Avengers tower? Is Tony Stark cool? Can you-“
“Baby breathe.”
Peter watched your face grow in color while you continued to ask away, and if he was honest he needed you to stop for a minute.
“Sorry! I’m just curious.”
You watched Peter try and mentally checklist the questions so he could respond and you bit your cheek while he counted the questions. Your mind started to wander off.
“So if you were swinging through-“
Peter now thinks this is the worst case scenario of you finding out about his alter ego.
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bitchyycapricorn · 9 months
Text
Draw Me Like One of Your Italian Girls
Peter Parker x Artist!Reader
Masterlist
Wordcount: 2k
Synopsis: During a school trip to Venice Italy, Peter finds himself in his classmates room.
Warnings:Smut!, unprotected sex, consumption of alcohol (reader and Peter are 18+ legal age), intoxicated sex, nude artwork, could be considered dubcon
AN: not edited. This has been in my drafts for over a month.
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Your eyes flicker from the reference on your laptop, then back down to your paper. Your pencil sketches smooth charcoal lines across the off white paper. Furrowing your brows, you shift the image slightly to get a better look at the image displayed on your screen. 
“Hey Y/N, what are you up to?” Peter asks, popping his head into your room. 
Stopping your movement, your eyes drift up to where he’s leaning against the doorway. “Drawing,” you reply with a small smile before going back to your sketch. 
Peter shifts awkwardly at the door, “Like a picture?” The words come out before he can fully think about what he was saying. And as soon as they came out, he wanted to drown himself in the canal. 
Another smile appears across your face, this time it stays for a moment. “No, I’m drawing up a plan to murder the rest of the class before fleeing the city to live as a fugitive in Rome.”
He gives a small laugh before nodding. “O-oh yeah, that makes sense.” 
You catch the nervous twitch in his voice, the way his body appears to be more tense than usual. “You can come in and shut the door.” You say after a moment of silence. 
He nods quickly, stepping into your hotel room before closing the door. “So uh, where’s your roommate?” Peter asks after fully shuffling into your room. 
“Brads room.” You shrug. 
Another “oh,” escapes his lips knowing that your roommate wouldn’t be back anytime soon. You give a small nod before patting the spot next to you on the bed. “So um, what are you drawing?” Peter asks finally. 
A blush spreads across your cheeks as you tilt the picture for him to see. His eyes scan the drawing and he immediately recognizes him and Ned near the docks. 
“You were actually in the way when I was taking my picture, but I decided you both were cute enough to make the cut.” You tease. 
Peter could feel his face starting to flush again, “cute enough?” He laughs. 
Giving a simple nod, you continue your work. “So what brings you to my room Parker?”
Peter debates whether he wants to be honest or not. On one hand, he could say he had a question about tomorrows tour. On the other, he could ask you to go on a walk with him along the canals. Mainly so that he can confess his feelings for you, which he’s been bottling up since as long as he can remember. “Would you like to walk with me?” He asks quickly, deciding it was worth a shot. 
“Mm, but that would mean I’d have to step out of my artistic zone.” You hum, finishing the last of the sketch and setting it on your nightstand. 
“Y-yeah of course, I’ll just-“ Peter replies as he moves towards the door, assuming you were politely turning down his advances. 
Panic quickly floods your brain as you watch him begin to leave. “Wait!” 
Peter pauses, turning to face you. “Yeah?”
“Stay, let me draw you.” The words tumble from your mouth in a hurry, as you pray the brunette boy won’t exit your room, at least not yet. 
Peter’s body seems to stiffen even more before slowly relaxing ad he looks around the room for a moment. “You want to draw me?” 
A hum leaves your lips as you gaze hopefully at Peter. “I enjoyed drawing you in this one,” you nod to the picture on your nightstand, “you have a nice figure.”
Another blush spreads across Peters face as he takes a seat on the small bench in your room. 
“Is this good?” He asks, trying to sit up straight for you. 
“Yes, just stay still…”
+++
You had been drawing and posing Peter for the last four hours. Somewhere around 11 you had both found the ‘complimentary’ drink assortment stored away in the little cabinet. 
You weren’t really sure which glass of wine/alcohol you and Peter were on now, just that you were stumbling slightly and giggling like crazy. 
Peter’s shirt had been discarded to the floor some time ago and you were still busy ogling over his toned chest. His defined muscles and hard abs that were otherwise hidden by his clothes made the butterflies in your stomach twist and turn. 
“Take your pants off now,” you slur, running your hands down Peters chest as you both stumble around the room. 
“My pants?” Peter quips, equally as drunk. 
“Mhm, I wanna draw you neeked,” a giggle escapes your lips as your fingers fumble around with the zipper of Peter’s jeans. 
It takes a moment for Peter to understand exactly what you want, but once it hits his jeans and boxers are discarded on the floor in a small pile. “Like this?” He coos, throwing his arms in the air to show off his now very naked figure. 
You clap your hands together and squeal, “Good good, now pose for me.” Peter stands there with his hands on his hips, puffing out his chest. Your eyes scan his body up and down, taking in the sight of not only his hard chest, but his hard dick as well. “God you’re built like a Greek god,” you breathe, quickly beginning to sketch. 
Peter hums before giving you a smirk. “Or Roman god since we’re in Venice.” 
“Modeled after the Greek gods sweetheart,” you snicker, making the outline of his abs with your pencil. 
“Are you as turned on as I am right now?” He asks after a few minutes. 
“Yes.” You say without hesitation, moving your pencil downwards to sketch his throbbing cock. “After I finish this I’ll suck your dick.” You giggle again.  
“Oh god,” Peter moans, feeling his cock twitch at the thought. “Are you done yet?”
“No silly. I’m still drawing your penis.” Another snicker leaves your lips as you delicately sketch out Peter’s lower regions. 
Peter lets out a groan, shaking his hips slightly. “Look it moves!” 
You look up to see Peter swishing his dick back and forth causing you to let out a loud shriek. “You have to stay still so I can finish!” A wheezey laugh leaves your chest as you move down to draw his legs. “I’m almost done I promise,” you grin. 
“Well hurry,” Peter whines, staying as still as his drunk little body could. 
“Shhh you can’t rush perfection.” You hush, moving as quickly as you could through your sketch. It took a few more minutes before you turned the drawing around to show Peter. “Look. You’re like the statue David.” You beam proudly. 
He gives you a lopsided grin before quickly scampering over to your bed. “Take your cloths off too and I’ll draw you!” He ushers as you add the sketch to the many others from that night. 
“Okay okay,” quickly getting up you strip completely, kicking your cloths off to the pile of Peter’s clothes. A low hum escapes his lips as he takes your sketch pad and pencil. 
“Pose!” He grins, watching you get into the same pose as him. You place your hands on your hips and stick your chest out proudly.
“Boobs…” Peter mumbles, sketching out a big circle for your head, followed by a stick body, stick legs, and stick arms. He then adds your hair, eyes, and a smile. Looking at the photo for a minute he realizes what he’s missing. “Boobs,” he says again as he draws two boobs onto your stick body. “Perfect!” He cries as he turns it around to show you. 
“Oh! Oh! You’re an artist! A sexy sexy artist,” you cry, wobbling over to Peter so you can throw yourself into his arms. Your legs straddle his hips, hands going into his soft curly hair. His lips press sloppily to yours as he tosses the notebook to the ground. His hands move up to your hips, squeezing the plush skin. 
“Fuck you’re so hot.” He moans against your lips. “The reason I asked you to walk with me earlier was because I wanted to tell you how I feel. I wanted to kiss you in front of the bridge.” His lips press against yours again before continuing. “But this is so much better.” 
“Is it because we’re naked?” You moan, grinding your hips into his. You’re slick gliding over his hard cock as you rock your hips. 
“Fuck, yes.” He groans, eager to be in you.
You let your another moan as you continue to move your hips against his. “Can I put it in me?” You beg, as if you could read Peter’s mind.
He nods as he kisses you again “please,” he groans as he helps lift your hips up. You quickly reach between the two of you so you could line him up at your entrance. Peter helps you ease down onto his throbbing cock. His tip barley enters you before his hips involuntarily buck upwards. You let out a small cry as he bottoms out into your sensitive cunt, eyes fluttering shut as his hips drop back down onto the bed. 
Another gasp leaves your lips as Peter begins to bounce you up and down his shaft. “Fuck you feel so good Y/N,” he growls in your ear. His fingers digging into your skin as he helps guide your sloppy, drunken movements as you grind on his dick. 
He’s so deep in you that you can practically feel him bulging in your stomach. “Peter fuck, you’re filling me so well,” you gasp as his hips thrust up into yours now. A feeling in your stomach begins to grow as Peter continues his brutal attack, his cock going deeper into you with every thrust. 
Stars begin to form in your vision as you press your chest into Peter’s face, his hands keeping your hips still so he can thrust up into you. His hips snap up to yours again as the feeling in the pit of your stomach grows, slowly spreading all over your body. You let out a strangled cry, feeling yourself come undone, cunt clenching around Peters dick making him moan. Your orgasm spreads all over your body like a hot fire, Peter helping to grow the flame as he keeps thrusting into you. 
His hips falter for only a moment before he gives one last deep thrust into you, filling your cunt with his cum. Your body goes slack as you fall forward into Peter. His brain and body going completely blank as well as he falls backwards, bringing you with him.
+++
Your eyes flutter open to the sight of Peter’s face only inches from yours, his hot breath fanning your cheek. You can feel his hot skin on yours as you go to unstick yourself from his sweaty grasp. Your head is pounding and your whole body feels weak. As you sit up it becomes evident that Peter had stayed in you the entire night. As your hips shifted slightly you could feel his dick hardening in you again, filling you up like he had the night before. 
A small groan escapes Peter’s lips as he shifts on the bed. His eyes peel open, looking around the unfamiliar room. A small shriek escapes from his mouth when he notices you sitting naked on his lap, his dick buried inside your cum filled cunt. 
“Sh sh, what the fuck happened?” You groan, holding your head as you look around your now destroyed room. 
“Shit, I think we had sex!” Peter groans, memories slowly coming back to him. 
“Oh fuck,” you mumble, noticing the the abundance of empty bottles discarded around the room. Your eyes travel over to the nightstand where an assortment of drawings lay spread out. All of them are Peter, some with his clothes on, some with his shirt off, then the one of him completely nude… Oh, and the one Peter drew of you. 
“I’m so so sorry, this is all my fault,” Peter sputters, guilt building up in his stomach as he realizes what truly happened last night. 
You let out a long sigh before laughing. “Why are you apologizing? I had a blast, even if some things are a bit fuzzy.”
Peter stops his profuse apologizes, eyeing you carefully. “You aren’t mad?” 
You shake your head, letting out a small hum as you eye the pictures again. “No, I’m glad you came into my room last night.”
+++
Taglist
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When Peter goes to college
Clint: Hey, can we stay in your dorm tonight? Peter: Why? Clint: Tony fiddled with an ouija board and cursed ours. Steve: We don't know how to banish spirits, so Tony is just throwing salt at them and yelling "DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A HOTEL TO YOU?!"
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presleyanswrites · 6 months
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chilly
pairing(s): mcu peter parker x sick!fem!reader
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desc basically im obsessed with sick!fics. posted one a while back for another fandom 🤭 just peter worried.
a/n holy shit im so sorry i haven't been posting lately my loves. my house is currently being sold and i've been running ramped. i wrote this after i had time off work. hope you enjoy.
warnings language, fluff, grammar. (please message me if i missed any!)
@cozytober2023
requests | open 💌 masterlist
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It was only October 7th and you we're already a stuffy snotty sticky mess from the sudden drop of temperature outside.
It was cold outside, but the light from your wooden bedroom windows sunbathed the room, brightening your pale complexion.
tissues were plastered all over your messy bed and your phone was constantly dinging with messages from your group chat. you didn't show up to work, or to school that day, and by the looks of your random naps and binge watches on Netflix, you had forgot to call anyone to let them know you couldn't make it, including your boyfriend peter.
you kept coughing which made your head pulsate more as you wrapped your blanket around you and curled into it, squirming and desperately trying to get comfortable.
he was always super protective of you. sometimes it was really annoying but it felt good to know he was always thinking of you. and thats probably an understatement.
you felt sick. that might've been a blunt word, but everytime you tried to swallow your own spit it hurt like hell and you felt your head beating in pain like a heart would pump blood.
you groan and pull your comforter back over your head before you flutter your eyes closed and try to get your mind off the pain in your throat. It burned everytime you breathed which made you hiss uncomfortably. You eventually get yourself to fall asleep (after way too many doses of NyQuil) with half of your body immersed in your pillow.
you rested softly for a few hours before you woke to the sound of peter climbing through your window. you're eyes could barely adjust to the light as your tried to look up to see who it was, but your body was too tired to try and shake yourself up.
he rolled on the floor after falling from your complicated window sill but quickly got up with a groan.
he puffs, dusting him self off as he looks around the room for his girl.
"love?" peter looked around curiously to find you laying in your bed.
he carefully knelt down and shook you slightly as you woke up again with a jump.
you cough. "jesus, peter. you scared the shit out of me." you shift your arms behind you to prop yourself up, as he tucks a piece of your hair that fell back behind your ear.
"sorry," he laughs. "i just got really worried. I came as soon as I could. are you alright? why weren't you at school? or work- MJ said you didn't come."
his smile turns into a concerned perplexed look.
"uh", you sit up and rub your eye, coughing.
he noticed you sweating, and your puffy red eyes and a nose rubbed red.
"are you feeling okay?" his eyes and face look soft for you as his lip pouted a little.
he comes closer to you, kneeling down as he rests his hand on your forehead gently. you press your lips together and sniffle.
"pete, im fine."
"but- you're burning up!" he adds, as you look away from him.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier? i could've taken school off or-"
"peter." you look up.
"no." you croak, "i would never let you do that."
He puffs his cheeks and breathes out as he sits with you in your bed. You look in your boyfriends eyes as he turns his head to examine you.
"you don't look well, sweets." he frowns as he kisses the top of your forehead.
"i know", you say as you sniffle and your face starts to tickle a little.
he hands you a tissue as you sneeze in your sleeves. "bless you." he rests his tongue to the side of his mouth.
spidey senses.
"you okay?" he looks at you.
"mhm", you purse your lips.
you blow your nose as he looks at your face again.
"you gonna let me take care of you?" he holds his breath in worry.
you shake your head. "no."
he frowns again. "but you're sick! you're my girlfriend I can't just leave you here." He seems stressed, folding his his hands on your arms.
you cough and add, "i don't want you to get sick. plus, you have patrol tonight."
he shakes his head. "no way, im staying."
"No." you look in his eyes.
"Yes." he nods.
"No, peter."
"Yes, y/n." he crosses his arms.
you sigh.
"im staying right here." He says determinedly as he wraps his arms around you from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder. worry chilled up his spine for you.
"okay," you give up. "its cold anyway." you couldn't resist him. you didn't want him to patrol in the this insane cold weather anyways.
you pull a sweatshirt over your head.
"movie?" we whispers. "i'll get you snacks." he rubs your back softly.
you sweat a little and try to swallow.
you smile a little, "okay."
coughing, he rubs your arm. "are you okay?" he looks at you worriedly.
"im fine, my body just hurts."
he pulls you in a hug before kissing your head and leaving the room to go to the kitchen.
he gets back almost instantly with a bag of candy and popcorn, setting it on the bed and a mug of hot tea for your throat on the bedside table.
"can i get you anything else?" he looked sad.
your heart warmed and hurt at the same time.
"no, im okay."
he places a bowl of soup down next to the mug as you lean over to take it and sip it gently.
he lays in your bed as you open your laptop to the same crime documentary.
"again?" he groans, shifting his neck up against the pillow as he scrunches his face, looking at the ceiling.
as you giggle he looks up to see your smile which made his stomach hurt.
"yes, again." you try to hold back your lips from curling into a laugh.
he sighs and clicks the play button on your computer.
you rest your head on his chest, snuggling into him as he lays his arm around you, intertwining your hand into his.
"love you." he whispers in your hair softly, tucking a kiss to the back of your head.
taglist my idols/inspo @everythingisawayoflife @cafekitsune @luveline @scarthefangirl @elliexmylove @thevoidsaidnothanks @thestarvingwriter @spider-stark @bittenbyyou @incorrectmarvelquote @badass-dora-milaje @yes-i-am-happyaspie join my taglist ♡
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Text
Tony: Hi, could I ask how exactly does one accidentally set a lemon on fire??
Peter: Microwave for 40 minutes. 😔
Y/n: Why were you microwaving a lemon???
Peter: I read boiling lemons helps cover up up bad smells (I wanted to cover up the scent of burnt oranges) but I didn't own any pots.
Natasha: Did you burn an orange too? How???
Peter: Microwave for 40 minutes. 😔
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spider-stark · 1 year
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Anti-Hero // Hero x Villain Trope // pt. 2 //
Previous Part
Summary - Reader and Peter are both living double lives. Spider-Man is considered a national hero, while the reader is viewed as a criminal. In their personal lives, they're both head over heels for one another, their friendship finally blossoming into something more. But as vigilantes? It's complicated
Warnings - Blood, mentions of kidnapping/abuse, knife violence,
Word Count - 4.6k
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Your foot bounced against the footrest of the barstool you were sat in, your patience wearing thinner and thinner with each passing minute. Another glance at your phone as it laid face up on the counter, confirming that it had now been twenty-five minutes past when you and Peter were supposed to meet. 
Five more minutes, you told yourself, only five. 
Peter Pan’s doorbell chimed as soon as the thought crossed your mind, as if Peter knew that you were getting painfully close to assuming that he had ditched you. 
“Y/n!” He sounded like he had run several blocks just to get here, gasping for breath as he jogged over to where you sat. Your foot stilled at the sight of him, the anxiety of being stood-up immediately dissipating. 
He slid onto the stool beside you, still struggling to steady his breathing. You grinned at him, and the sight only made his lungs feel tighter. “You’re late, Parker.” 
A knowing tone, yet so light and playful, and it somehow held the power to wash away all the defeats he had faced today. It was one of the things Peter loved most about you, the way that you could melt all of his stress away, without even lifting a finger. 
“I’m sorry.” He choked the apology out between labored breaths, his body finally settling enough to let him try to speak. 
While Peter hadn’t run several blocks to get here, he did frantically swing a few dozen blocks, his muscles screaming out in pain the entire time. He was thankful that the annoying girl from earlier had been telling the truth when she said he would recover from the toxin, but he only managed to regain control over his motor skills with enough time to change clothes and come straight to Peter Pan’s to meet you. 
She also could have mentioned that he would feel like he got hit by a bus afterwards. 
“I started to think you were standing me up.” You admitted. 
“Never!” Peter blurted the word out, squinting slightly under the fluorescent lights that only added to the pounding in his head. “Today just felt kind of… paralyzing, I guess.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at his own pun, knowing it would fly right over your head. “Had a hard time getting myself moving.” 
Concern suddenly washed over your features, brows pulling together. “Do you feel sick or something?” 
You didn’t wait for his answer, leaning forwards on your stool and placing the back of your hand against his forehead. The sudden contact had a blush creeping up his neck, his face beginning to turn red. “You do feel a bit warm.” You hummed with a frown. “You should’ve texted me if you didn’t feel good, we could’ve rescheduled.” 
“No!” Another too-quick response, only deepening the crimson shade now painting his cheeks.“I feel great, promise.” He awkwardly cleared his throat, trying to sound a little less, well, excitable. “Just a rough day, ya know? Nothing worth rescheduling over! But I’m still really sorry that I’m late.” 
Peter already wanted nothing more than to throw that sorry criminal in jail, if not for being a thief than for attempting to ruin his plans with you. God, they knew just how to get under his skin. He tried to shake the thoughts of them from his mind, wanting to focus entirely on you, his mind free of irritating distractions. 
Today might have kicked his ass, but there was no way he would miss out on coming to see you. He struggled to make time for ‘Peter Parker’ things while managing to balance his duties as Spider-Man, but when it came to you? He would gladly shove Spider-Man to the side when possible. 
“I get it.” You reassured him, a soft smile that had his heart melting. “My day wasn’t that great either, but that’s just how it goes sometimes, yeah?” 
It really hasn't been a great day for you. Getting away from Spider-Man was the only thing that had gone right today. The job you were on earlier when Spidey had caught up to you ended up being a total bust after faulty intel led to your target getting away before you could even make a move. It threw things off for you—left you without a profit and forced you to evaluate your sources. 
“Well,” you cleared the brief silence between the two of you, “do you wanna get started?” 
Peter only stared at you, those beautiful brown eyes filled with little other than complete confusion as his mind lagged behind. You giggled at how dumbfounded he looked, and while he was slightly embarrassed, he also savored the sound of your laugh. 
“On studying.” You clarified with your index finger tapping against the garishly colored chemistry textbook laid on the counter. “Our test is next week and I really don’t wanna fail Mr. Harrington’s class.” 
Peter’s mouth formed a perfect O shape, his head nodding along as you reminded him of the reason why the two of you were meeting up today. Truth be told, he had been purposely letting himself forget about the ‘study’ part of your study date. 
“Oh, yeah.” He shook his head a bit, keeping his gaze focused on the coffee-stained countertop in hopes that you wouldn’t see that he was still blushing. “Sorry, I’m still not all here yet.” 
“We can still reschedule, ya know? If you’re just not feeling up to this right now.” You hesitantly reminded him, silently hoping that he would say no, that he would insist that he stay. It had been days since the two of you made these plans, and you had been looking forward to spending time with him. 
“No, really, I’m fine!” Peter answered your silent pleading, adding a smile. “I think we need to be on page 279.” 
You nodded in response, returning the expression before moving to flick through the pages of the book. 
To be honest, Peter really couldn’t comprehend why you needed his help to pass Harrington’s class. In nearly every other subject you were at the top of your class, serving as one of his biggest academic competitors at Midtown. What he didn’t know, however, was that the only reason you needed his help was because of certain distractions in class. 
Chemistry was the only class the two of you had together, and unfortunately that meant that the majority of it was spent with you staring at the back of Peter’s head and barely listening to a word Mr. Harrington said (too busy daydreaming about what it would be like to run your fingers through his gorgeous wavy hair). Your little crush had ultimately led to you just barely passing the class, which had turned out to be quite convenient, as it served as an excuse to ask Peter for help and get the chance to hangout with him outside of school. 
“Oh c’monnn.” You groaned as you examined the page, immediately filled with dread when you read scientific notation printed in big bold letters. 
“I promise it’s really not that hard!” Peter tried to assure you, hiding his amusement at your dramatic reaction as you pressed your forehead against the book, little sounds of protests still falling from your mouth. “You’ve got this, mkay? I’ve got full faith in you.” 
“As sweet as that is, Parker,” your close proximity to the paper muffled your speech as you refused to face him, “math is actually my arch-nemesis. I’m horrible at it.” 
Besides Spider-Man, you jokingly thought to yourself. 
“It’s not nearly as bad as it sounds though!” Peter continued to make promises that did little to ease your dread. “Let’s just give it a try.” 
You turned your head to the side just a bit, cheek still flush against the book as you looked over at him from the corner of your eye. “Do I even need to know how to do this? Like, if I don’t pursue a career in chemistry, will I ever need to actually understand scientific notation?” 
“Yeah, probably.” 
“Give me an example.” 
“I don’t know, what if you wanna figure out how many drops of water are in a river? You’d need scientific notation.” 
You furrowed your brows at him, although still amused by the response. “Why would I ever wanna know that?” 
Peter’s shoulders lifted into a shrug, an action he swiftly regretted as a burning pain coursed through his forearm, a reminder of the wound he sustained earlier that hadn’t quite healed yet. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you. 
“Whoa.” You quickly straighten your posture, staring at him cautiously. “Are you good?” 
He forced out a quiet mhm sound as he bit down on the inside of his cheek, desperately hoping the feeling would subside. Peter wasn’t used to his healing abilities being so impaired, yet another side effect of the toxin, and he had forgotten just how much it hurt to be injured. 
“Are you sure?” You asked again, clearly not convinced by his less-than-impressive attempt at hiding his discomfort. “Is it your shoulder or back or something?” 
Peter felt your hand coming towards him, his Spider-senses snapping him out of his current agony as you hovered just inches above the covered wound. He reached out and grabbed your wrist so suddenly that it made you gasp, shocked by how fast he had moved. 
“Sorry.” He apologized, immediately loosening his grip. Your eyes remained wide, the shock still evident alongside a bit of suspicion. “I think I pulled something in my shoulder the other day and it’s still sorta tender to touch, ya know?” 
He already felt guilty for the lie, but it was the best he could come up with to ensure you wouldn’t try to reach for him again. Coming up with lies was already difficult for him, and he had no clue how he’d be able to craft a story for how he ended up with a giant slice taken out of his arm if you found out. 
“You really have the worst luck, don’t you?” You mused, your hand retreating back to your lap as you spoke. “I still have trouble believing that last week you accidentally ran into that streetlight and gave yourself a black eye!” 
Peter laughed nervously, thinking back to the moment. Funny enough, he hadn’t really been lying about that one. Sure, he had been swinging and not running, but he did hit a streetlight. “What can I say? I’m just not the most coordinated.” He fidgeted in his seat, an action you equated to embarrassment. 
In reality, the action had been fueled by anxiety. There had been too many close calls lately, too many instances where he had to make up an excuse for a bruise or a cut or whatever else, especially with the new girl running around. He was running out of lies to tell, and more than that, he was getting tired of having to lie. 
“Well at least try and be more careful, alright?” You teased him, though your concern for him was still evident. While he might’ve hated lying about his injuries, he did quite enjoy the way you’d dote over him whenever you’d discover a new one, always desperate for your affection in whatever way he could receive it. “If I’m gonna pass chemistry then I’m gonna need my tutor in one piece!” 
Peter grinned, returning your teasing tone, “If you’re gonna pass chemistry then you’re gonna need to learn scientific notation.” 
You jutted your bottom lip out in a pout, a low groan following suit. “Fine.” You reached for the book, sliding it closer to the two of you while scooting your stool a bit closer to Peter’s. “But you owe me.” 
“I owe you?” He shot you a bewildered stare, struggling not to laugh. 
You nodded. “Mhm.” 
“I’m the one helping you pass chemistry.” He noted, shifting his index finger from himself to you as he spoke. “So technically wouldn’t you be the one that owes me?”  
“Nope. Pretty sure I was right. You owe me.” You feigned complete seriousness, mocking him by pointing your finger in his direction. 
He decided to play along, electing to ignore the fact that you’re just procrastinating studying. “Okay, fine. So what do I owe you?” 
You paused for a moment, a mischievous look appearing on your face, causing Peter to raise a brow at you. “A date.” You declared confidently, taking advantage of the opportunity. “A real one. No school stuff or anything.” 
Peter felt his heart skip in his chest. 
“Deal.” 
Maybe learning scientific notation was worth it.  
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Coming to Queens was a risky move, one that you didn’t like to make often. It was one of two places in the city that you liked to avoid—the other being Hell’s Kitchen—in an attempt to try and avoid running into anyone with devil horns or spiderwebs. 
Luckily, your line of work typically kept you out of the ‘problem’ areas of the city. The majority of your targets were New York's wealthiest, the kind of people that wouldn’t so much as dream of stepping foot outside of Manhattan. 
You much preferred meeting them in their own territory, finding it all the more enjoyable to toy with them in the places where they felt safest. But, sometimes, that just wasn’t a possibility for one reason or another. Despite that, bringing your business into Spider-Man’s self proclaimed home territory was always a dangerous move. 
In this case, though, it was unavoidable. 
For months you had kept a close eye on councilman Rupert Fletcher, a man that many others in your circle had tried to go after, only to fail time after time. At first, you struggled to understand how so many accomplished thieves had somehow been stumped on such a painfully average man. 
Despite Fletcher's status as a councilman, he was of little importance, his wealth being the only thing to put a target on his back. On the surface, he lived a rather average life of a man in his position. 
He owned a sizable penthouse on the Upper East Side that he shared with his wife and their french bulldog. A quick peek at his schedule revealed that his weekdays were typically spent in the office, the deviation being an occasional conference. His weekends were always the same, a trip to the country club in Spring Valley to decompress and unwind. 
There were sizable gaps in his schedule, several windows of time where his apartment was left unoccupied, with his weekend trips to the country club and his wife’s recent trip back to her home country for family matters—essentially meaning that Rupert Fletcher was every thief’s wet dream. Yet, even the craftiest of them all came out empty handed, claiming the man’s home was unusually bare. There was nothing of much importance in it, no safes filled with cash, no lavish jewelry. It was painfully basic, appearing as little more than a model home. Every one that dared to go after him all left the same: empty handed. 
You started to think you hit a dead end with him, after questioning every single person in your circle, desperate to dig up something on him. That is until a tiny girl by the name of Red made an offhand comment, one she clearly thought was of little importance. 
“The best I got out of it was this Dukes of Hazzard keychain,” she flashed a disturbing grin, the street lights illuminating the silver caps on her teeth, “better than nothin, right?” 
It was better than nothing. A lot better. 
While the keychain itself was rather stupid and not something you cared about, there had been a dingy key dangling off of it, a tag attached that read: StorageMart #813. At first you considered the thought that it had belonged to Red, but given the fact that a pristine Bugatti key hung alongside it, you quickly decided that it must’ve been Fletchers. 
That same night, you broke into the office of the StorageMart that night, combing through their records until you found payment receipts for unit 813. It hadn’t shocked you when you saw it was purchased under a different last name: Petrov. You recognized it as his wife’s maiden name, a fact learned through your prior research on him. With confirmation that it was his unit, you wasted no time with swiping a key from the utility office and heading straight for the unit. 
Its contents were a mystery to you, your imagination running wild. What could it be? Diamonds? Gold bars? A Dukes of Hazzard boxset? You weren’t sure, and truthfully, you didn’t care all that much as long as it was something of value. You didn’t know what he was hiding in the unit, but what you did know was that Rupert Fletcher was a bad man, and he deserved to pay for it. 
And discovering what he had worked so hard to keep secret only cemented that fact. 
The first thing you saw was a mattress laid out on the cold cement floor, a tattered blanket with the thickness of a sheet of newspaper spread across it. Beside it was a dingy orange bucket, the scent of what was inside practically overwhelming your senses entirely. You almost considered slamming the door shut, almost decided to cut your losses and get out of there before you emptied the contents of your stomach on the floor and left evidence of your presence. 
But then, you heard it. A faint voice, small and fragile, the words in a language you didn’t know. You didn’t need to understand what she said to know who she was, though, to know that you had finally caught Fletcher in his biggest crime of all. 
A bit of gossip tends to go a long way. It took a bit of work to find out where the women in Fletcher’s wife’s inner circle like to hang out, but it turned out to be well worth the struggle as all of them sat amongst themselves at lunch and chatted about how she had been threatening divorce months prior, and their theories of what he had done to her upon finding out, entirely unaware of the listening ear just a table over. A bit more digging led to gaining even more intel on Fletcher’s past tumultuous relationships, only furthering the suspicions. 
“Ms. Petrov?” You purposely opted to avoid use of her married name, hoping that it would indicate to her that you were there to help, not to cause further harm. 
The woman was emaciated and looked as if she were just days away from death, and you struggled to hide your shock. “I’m gonna get you out of here, alright?” A promise you intended on keeping. 
A huge part of you wanted to take the story public, to take pictures of the unit before he could destroy any evidence she was here and send it straight to the Daily Bugle. Jameson was an asshole, but he was never one to miss out on a good story. But, despite your desire to see Fletcher’s mugshot on the news, you bit your tongue. 
It wasn’t your story to share. And, even if Petrov had wanted to come clean and expose him to the world, men like Fletcher were rarely forced to deal with the consequences of what they’d done. He was too wealthy, too well-known, too powerful. 
Which was exactly why you were back here in Queens, at the same shabby StorageMart you had pulled Fletcher’s wife from just a few days ago. She was safe, staying in a women's shelter upstate, already beginning to plan her trip back home where she would be away from Fletcher for good. There was just one thing she needed before she could make her escape. 
“Thanks Rupey.” You sang over your shoulder, lazily wiping the ruby stained blade against your pants, “It was a pleasure doing business with ya.” 
He coughed a few obscenities in your direction, but made no move towards you as you headed towards the door of unit 813, too weak to move from where he laid on the floor. Everyone liked to put on a good show at the end, run their mouth just enough to make themselves feel like they put up a fight. You usually ignored it. Usually. 
 “How much did you take?” He spat in your direction, your footsteps falling silent as you paused by the door. 
You didn’t like his tone, the arrogance in his voice, his domineering attitude. You were a bit shocked that he had any snide remarks left in him, and even more shocked that he could even form words after you knocked two of his teeth loose. 
“I took what I needed.” You assured him, your own tone calm and collected in comparison to his. “And then some. Gotta make a profit in this business somehow, Rupe.” 
His wife had told you he would be here tonight, promised that he came by every other day just to chuck some food in her direction and try to convince her to reconsider her decision to leave him. Waiting for him was easy, since she said that Fletcher liked to stick to a tight schedule, and incapacitating him was even easier. 
A quick slash to the forehead, just a half an inch above his brows. It was the easiest way to stun someone, there were enough capillaries in the forehead to cause profuse bleeding that would eventually impair their vision, making it even easier to keep control over the situation. Immobilizing him wasn’t hard either, a quick jab to his right leg, maybe two or so inches deep. Deep enough that the average person wouldn’t be able to keep their weight on it without passing out from the pain, but nowhere deep enough that he would bleed out from the wound. 
After that, it was as easy and slipping his phone out of his pocket, forcing him to use touch-ID to get into his bank account (threatening to cut off someone's thumb makes it quite easy to get them to follow instructions) and then transferring a couple hundred thousand dollars to an untraceable bank account you had a friend set up for his wife. Fletcher had been the one to ruin her life and damn near kill her, it was only fair that he was the one to pay for her new one, especially if that was the only justice she’d ever get. 
“They’re gonna find you–” Fletcher swore, his strained voice growing louder as you moved to open the door, “I have cameras set up in here! There’s cameras all over this fucking property! The cops are gonna find you!” 
You gave him a quick glance over your shoulder, your mask still secured over your face, confident that the NYPD would find nothing that could trace back to you. Not any more than they already had, that is. “You’re not gonna tell them shit.” You laughed at him, rolling your eyes, “You think I wasn’t smart enough to hack into your stupid security cameras and duplicate the footage? I have hours of it, Fletcher. Hours of you torturing your wife, keeping her caged up in here like some sort of animal.” He didn’t respond, barely moved a muscle as his face paled. “You tell a single soul what happened here tonight, and I’ll send the footage off to every news station in New York. Got it?” 
You didn’t need to wait for confirmation, aware that men like Fletcher would do anything to avoid bad press. He would make up a story, the same way all of them did. A mugging gone wrong or some stupid lie, anything to paint himself the victim and keep his wrongdoings away from the public. You looked forward, savoring the feeling of the cold Winter air kissing your skin as you let the door slam shut behind you, relaxation washing over you at the thought of finally getting to go home. 
“Do I wanna know what you were doing in there?” 
Well, so much for relaxation. 
You glanced up, immediately noticing Spider-Boy crouched on the unit across from 813. “What are you even doing here?” You asked him, an exasperated groan following after. “Like, seriously, do you have a tracker on me or something? I’m gonna get you one of those little collars with a bell on it, the kind for cats, ya know? That way you at least can’t sneak up on me.” 
Spider-Man narrowed his eyes at you, and your lip curled in response. You didn’t like the way the whites of his mask moved to match his expressions, finding it a bit unnerving. “What were you doing?” He asked again, ignoring your previous sarcastic remarks. 
“Why don’t you go look for yourself?” You jutted your thumb over your shoulder, pointing towards the unit door where Fletcher’s groans of pain should still be faintly heard. “Cause I’m a bit tired from doing your job and all, so I’d rather skip the small talk tonight and head home.” 
He scoffed, still perched atop the building, staring down at you. “Doing my job?” 
You nodded. “Uh, yeah. Did I stutter or something?” 
“How were you doing my job?” He rephrased his question, annoyed by your constant habit of avoidance. 
“Do your own research for once, Spider-Kid.” You told him lazily, shaking your head as you began to continue your walk towards the exit gates of the StorageMart. “Maybe then you’ll realize we aren’t quite as different as you think.” 
The nickname annoyed Peter, but he tried to shake it off, aware that it was just another way you tried to get under his skin and throw him off. He swiftly jumped from the building, landing directly in your path to keep you from leaving. Before his feet even touched the ground you already had a knife drawn, as if you had predicted his movement. 
“While I commend you for wanting to stop me,” you spoke slowly, the tip of your blade pointed at his throat—it was an empty threat, as you knew that you would never strike what would most certainly be a fatal blow against him, although he didn’t know that and chose to keep a safe enough distance. “There’s a man in there that’s in desperate need of medical attention. I suggest you run off to be a hero and get him to a hospital.” 
Peter’s eyes shifted towards the unit, his amplified hearing allowing him to hear Fletcher’s heartbeat from where he stood. You were right; and while he didn’t sound like he was on the verge of death, he needed a hospital, and a fight with you was one he wasn’t confident he would win—not quick enough, at least, to justify leaving a wounded man to suffer. 
“We’re very different.” He promised you, taking a step back to show that he was backing down. To show that he was a hero, that he would prioritize a civilian's life over stroking his own ego by attempting to capture you right now. The two of you were nothing alike—Peter worked to protect this city, locking criminals up and fighting alongside the Avengers. And you? “You’re a villain.” 
You snorted at his dramatic choice of words, still armed and prepared to strike if he made a move towards you. He didn’t, though, taking a few more steps backwards towards Fletcher’s unit.
“Villain’s such a harsh word.” You clicked your tongue, chastising him, making his blood boil as he had to use all the restraint in his body to prevent himself from going after you as you readied yourself to dart for the exit. 
“I prefer anti-hero.”
tag list: @llovergirlll @hpchosen1 @vintageoldfashion
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bittenbyyou · 10 months
Text
Stolen Moments
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High School!AU | MCU!Peter Parker x Best Friend!Reader
genre: fluff
description: You and Peter’s first kiss didn’t go the way you planned.
word count: 2.6k
warnings: references to Spider-Man: Far From Home, Peter not knowing any fairytales/Disney princesses and being a lovable dork
a/n: Another snippet based on real life events of how my bf and i got together lol. Enjoy the fluff and please feel free to let me know if you liked it!
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One thing you loved most about your best friend was his inability to remember classic fairy tales. No matter how many times you summarized them, Peter would find a way to botch it every single time. Even going so far as to invent alternative story lines, which never failed to crack you up. You would tease him endlessly for it, but then he’d grill you for having never watched Star Wars or any of the Harry Potter movies. That’s what we’d call balance in your friendship.
“Fairy tale pop quiz!” Peter groaned dramatically as he plopped down on his couch, phone in hand with your big grinning face on FaceTime. 
“Not fairy tales… anything but those. They’re my weakness,” he whined. You laid on your side in bed, giggling.
“The great Peter Parker who’s in band, robotics, and the decathlon can’t recall a few simple fairy tales?”
“Well, I actually quit those,” he shared, ruffling the back of his hair with a sheepish grin. Your face fell, eyes wide and concerned. 
“Wait, when? Why?”
It’s not like Peter could tell you he was Spider-Man even though he really, really wanted to. The less you knew, the better. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything happened to you.
“I’m really busy.”
“Stark Internship?”
His eyes lit up when you gave him a reason. “Right, yes!” 
Thank god for your incredible memory. “Makes sense. It’s been a while since we’ve even FaceTimed each other. You’re usually so busy at night.”
He saw the way your lips pouted as your crestfallen eyes looked away from the camera, making his chest feel tight. “I miss you too.”
Your gaze flickered back up to meet his own. Peter gulped, wondering if he sounded too emotional. Too affectionate. Too… obvious.
“Touché, Parker,” you said, rolling onto your back. “Okay, no more stalling. Tell me… which fairy tale princess ate the poison apple?”
Peter shut his eyes tight, thinking carefully. You both went to LegoLand one time and there was a display case that had the poison apple. You had asked him the same question then, pointing at the apple excitedly.
“Before we’re old would be nice,” you teased. Peter lifted up his index finger and shushed you. 
“Hold on, I got it,” His eyes fluttered open after remembering there was a small sign next to the poison apple display. “Little Mermaid.”
“Why would The Little Mermaid eat a poisonous apple?!” You bursted out into laughter at his confidence. “Dude, you said the same thing back when we went to LegoLand. The sign was in the wrong spot.”
“Darn it,” he muttered with a snap of his fingers. 
“I’ll give you a hint. Weather.”
“... Tornadoes?”
“What princess has “tornado” in her name?!” you exclaimed, trying your best not to wheeze. Peter couldn’t help but join in the laughter, knowing he was making a fool of himself. 
“You snorted,” he said in a taunting voice. “Gross.”
“Shut up, you love it.”
It’s true. He loved your laugh. Mostly because you always laughed with your whole body and sometimes would keel over. Even in public. In fact, you were probably about to fall off your bed right this second because your face suddenly became blurry and shaky. 
“Did you almost fall?” 
You successfully caught yourself and your phone before it fell on your face. “No,” you readjusted your position and cleared your throat, “Try again. It’s cold weather.”
“It can’t be Frozen… I think I’d remember that. You’ve never said anything about an apple in Mulan the many times you’ve told me her story…” You nodded many times, appreciating the fact he remembered your love for Mulan. You saw how his brows furrowed in concentration, loving how serious he was taking this. “Snow White.”
“Good j—”
“Oh!” he shouted all of a sudden, almost giving you a heart attack. “She’s the one with the seven smurfs, right?!”
Oh Peter Parker….  You’re the cutest human alive, you thought. 
Another wave of laughter overcame you, which intensified tenfold once you saw the big dumb smile on Peter’s face. The boy really thought he got it right.
“No… honey, they’re dwarfs,” you said once the laughter subsided.
“... Same thing,” he said, followed by a shrug. “I knew that.”
“Oh, we’re in for a long night. How about Jack and the Beanstalk?” That one should be easy.
“Ooh! Um… wait, I got it, quit laughing, I haven't even started,” he said, chuckling at how you placed a hand on your mouth to refrain from laughing more. “A guy sells a dog or cow or sheep for beans that grow into a big bean stalk and climbs up there and I think there’s a giant in the clouds? I don’t know.”
“I like how you completely disregarded the part where he was persuaded to sell his animal for magical beans, but okay. Pretty good.” You gave him a wink, which he returned. 
“Told you I’m good at this.”
“Uh huh. Last one.”
Peter gave you a nod. “Go for it.”
“Cinderella.”
“Easy. She’s the one with long hair, with the glass shoes that’s supposed to be a perfect fit but somehow falls off and I think the guy uses her hair to find her and climb the castle before midnight when some magic wears off…”
You didn’t have enough energy to laugh and risk your abs becoming a liability, so you opted for parting your lips open slightly, shocked at how someone could be so, so wrong. 
“I think there’s some sisters or step sisters in it too!” he added, giving himself a pat on the back. “Nailed it.”
“Quite the opposite,” you said, shaking your head. “I love your dumbass sometimes.”
He knew you were using the word as a term of endearment, so it made him smile. He loved you too. So much. 
“What’s occupying all that headspace of yours these days that you can never remember the stories?” you teased. 
You are… and Spider-Man, Peter thought to himself. 
"Oh you know, there's an ongoing battle between my inner monologue and my stomach's incessant cravings for Aunt May's chocolate chip cookies. Spoiler alert: the cookies usually win."
“Oh my gosh, her cookies are the best.”
“Right?”
You both laid on your sides, a comforting silence blanketing the two of you for a few seconds. 
“So um…” you started to say, a twinge of nervousness in your voice. “Because your knowledge on Cinderella is so—”
“Awesome?”
“Awful,” you corrected, smiling at his lame joke. “I was wondering if you wanted to go see the school play this Friday. They’re performing Cinderella.”
Peter sat up from his couch. “You mean, you and me, g-going together?”
“Yeah. MJ didn’t want to go because seeing a damsel in distress who solely relies on a man saving her kills her vibe.” Peter chuckled at that. “Are you and Ned doing anything?”
“No.”
“Oh good,” You paused. “You can invite him to come too!”
Oh. 
Peter hid his disappointment by placing his phone down on the couch for a split second, gathering his thoughts. Why was he assuming that this was a date? Of course you’d ask Ned to come too. He was so silly.
“Peter?” you said. “Peter~, are you still there?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m here.” He picked up the phone and gave you a thumbs up. “I’ll go. And I’ll ask Ned about it.”
“Cool. See ya then. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
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Peter was so nervous. Which he knew was ridiculous because this was not a date, yet he spent hours picking out an outfit. What does one even wear to a school play anyway? In the end, he slipped on a white button-up with some jeans and headed to the school. 
He saw you standing by the front doors, wearing a pretty blouse and shorts. Simple but cute nonetheless. You always looked pretty to him. 
“Hey! Sorry I’m late,” Peter said while running up the steps to get to you. “Were you waiting long?”
You shook your head. “Not at all. The play starts in five minutes, so you made it on time.”
“Good. Good…” Now that he was up close, Peter noticed how you styled your hair differently from what you usually did. “Did you do something to your hair?”
“Yeah… is it weird?”
Peter shook his head rapidly. “No, you look good.”
“Just good?”
“Great. Spectacular. Fantastic,” he said with exploding hand motions.
You giggled. “Okay Mr. Thesaurus. Where’s Ned?”
“Ned told me he didn’t want to go.” Which Peter was secretly thankful for, but he’d never let you know that.
“Okay. Then it’ll just be us two. Let’s go.”
The two of you walked to the front doors and you didn’t miss how Peter practically ran in front of you just to open it first. You thanked him and then made your way to the school’s auditorium. Peter always suggested sitting in the back, claiming it had the best view but in reality, it’d be the easiest for him to slip away if duty called.
You did notice his backpack, finding it slightly odd he brought it to school after hours. However, you didn’t think too much of it because Peter always carried a backpack. It was handy when the two of you hung out at the mall and snuck in snacks into the movie theater or when you accidentally bought too much stuff at Target after claiming you only needed one thing.
“I bet Betty is going to look so beautiful. She’s Cinderella,” you said as you sat down on Peter’s left side. 
You’re beautiful. 
“Really? And Ned’s not the prince? I wonder how he feels about that.”
“Oh, they broke up,” you informed him. “I found out yesterday.”
“What? Dang, we could’ve had a double date,” he joked, testing the waters with you. You playfully smacked his arm. 
“In your dreams.”
The lights soon dimmed, letting you and Peter know the play was about to begin. Honestly, the play was far more entertaining than expected because it turned out to be a parody of Cinderella, much to your horror. Peter was relishing at how upset you were, whispering to him every few minutes on how the story “wasn’t accurate.” Honestly, it was super adorable seeing you so worked up.
You leaned close to Peter’s ear, causing his breath to hitch. “This is so ridiculous. It’s supposed to be a pumpkin carriage, not pumpkin pie.”
“... There’s supposed to be a carriage?” he whispered back. 
“See, this play is tainting your mind.”
“But you can’t tell me you’re not enjoying it.”
“It is pretty funny,” you admitted, noticing his arm on your shared armrest. You were about to place your hand on top of his when Nick Fury’s stern voice echoed loudly in his ear.
“Parker. Are you in position?”
“No,” Peter said loud enough for you to hear. You immediately retracted your hand and Peter realized what you were about to do. 
“No…?” you said softly. The look of hurt in your eyes made Peter panic.
“And why the hell not?” Nick Fury interrogated. Peter slapped his ear/earpiece to shut it up. 
“I-I didn’t mean that. Um… I need to go to the restroom.”
“You okay?”
“I’m…” His mind raced for an excuse. “I’m feeling sick, um, I ate dairy and you know I’m lactose intolerant and all that.” He got out of his seat awkwardly, your eyes never leaving him. It pained him to see you so worried. “Oof, I’m feeling it now. Gonna be a while.”
He held onto his stomach to make for a convincing act. 
“Okay. Feel better.”
He apologized to you and then ran out of the auditorium.
“Parker, you better be on your way,” Fury’s voice warned.
“I’m coming,” Peter huffed, looking at the backside of your head one last time before disappearing. 
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Peter finished his mission by the time the play had already ended. He saw you were sitting at the front of the school on the steps, so he had to go through the back and exit as if he had come from the restrooms. 
“Whoo~! That was painful,” Peter said as he approached you, hand on his stomach and backpack on his back. He let out a sharp exhale and watched your expressions to see if you were buying it. “I really shouldn’t have eaten that ice cream… I’m sorry. I left you all alone.”
“It’s okay. Betty says hi by the way.”
“Oh. Hi.” He held his hand up and waved at you as if you were Betty. That earned a chuckle from you. “I really am sorry. What did I miss?”
He took the seat next to you on the steps. “Well, it’s safe to say you’ll never learn the real story of Cinderella. Or at least the Disney version.”
“Was it that bad?”
“The worst.” 
He nudged his shoulder against yours, flashing you a warm smile. “Are you mad at me?”
“A little. I waited outside the restrooms for you, but you took so long.”
“... It really hurt my bowels. The battle was rough.”
You rolled your eyes. “Uh huh. You know what, I’ll forgive you if you can answer one thing. What’s something pretty much all the Disney princesses have in common?”
Peter pouted his lips in confusion, searching his brain for a possible answer. “They’re… girls?”
“No… they all get kissed by the end of the movie.”
“O-Oh… Oh. Oh~,” he shot you a perplexed look. “Have you… ever been kissed?”
You nodded. “Yeah. By my ex-boyfriend.” Ah, right. Peter was not fond of him at all. “What about you?”
“Me? No…” he looked down at the cement. “Not yet.”
“Didn’t you and Liz date? You guys didn’t kiss?”
He shook his head. “No. And I’d probably messed it up anyway.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Well in the movies and stuff it’s always perfectly well executed.”
You scooted a bit closer to him so that your knees would touch. “That’s only in movies. Most people’s first kiss is awkward.”
“Was yours?”
“Yeah. But I’d like to think I’m way better at it now.”
That made Peter’s eyes widen, but he still kept his gaze glued to the ground. “I-Is that so?”
“I mean… Do you want to find out?”
He finally lifted his head up to look at you. You reached your hand over, caressing the side of his face and he leaned into your touch right away. Was this a dream? Because his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. Having his first kiss was one thing but having it with you? That’s all he ever wanted. 
“There’s no such thing as a perfectly executed first kiss. But I’d like to try to give you one if you want,” you said softly. 
“Y-Yeah… that’d be nice.” 
You smiled and leaned in closer, but Peter got too eager and pecked you on the lips first. He couldn’t help it. He’s been wanting to kiss you since forever. So yeah, it was sloppy and unplanned with zero technique. He honestly almost missed. You stared at him, too stunned to speak for a moment before your face twisted into frustration. 
“Peter!”
“What?”
“That's not how it was supposed to be! I was going to kiss you soft and sweet and slow and it was supposed to be romantic. You ruined it!”
“I’m pretty happy with it,” he said nervously. The look you gave him screamed murder. 
“Ugh. Well, that’s all you get. Your first kiss. Rushed and terrible.”
“I can live with that.”
You blushed for the first time that night and Peter had to stop himself from doing a backflip out of joy. 
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wxckedwxrld · 7 months
Text
Marvel: Peter Parker
Imagines
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* - smut ^ - angst • - fluff
PSA: these writings ARE NOT MINE. This is a list of fanfiction I have read during august and sept. All credit goes to the original and rightful writers
masterlist
such a gentleman
• 7 minutes
• Ornithology
^ obedience [pt.1]
^• disobedience [pt.2]
•Under the Mistletoe
^ Too
•^fine line [ch. 1] [ch.2] [ch.3] [ch.4] [ch.5]
•^ where we start again [ch.1] [ch.2] [ch.3] [ch.4] [ch.5] [ch.6] [ch.7] [ch.8] [ch.9]
• how to kiss
* no knock knocks
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lizmaximoff · 10 months
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Peter Parker in the MCU → Avengers: Infinity War (2018) dir. by The Russo Brothers ↳ "I don't want to go, please, I don't want to go, Mr. Stark. I am sorry, Tony, I am sorry."
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Note
peter and reader at avengers tower and they’re both avengers but they’re “best friends” cuddled up on the couch asleep and none of the avengers let them forget it for weeks
i gotchu ;) also thank you for the request !! i really appreciate it! <3
!!! read part two | part three | part four | part five here !!!
✨masterlist✨.
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1.4k.
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Being an Avenger definitely came with plenty of risks, seeing as you put your life on the line every day in attempt to save the world. Along with the risks, there were several upsides that outweighed your anxieties about the superhero lifestyle.
Every few months, the team was required to spend a week at the compound for training; it was something fairly stupid, but staying in the mansion for a week wasn’t something you’d complain about. Especially when the team made the most of it.
You enjoyed getting up at dawn to run with Steve, and cooking dinners with Wanda. One thing always stood out to be something you looked forward to most: movie night. You came up with the system so that everyone had a chance to pick a movie, and this week, it was Steve’s turn to pick. Unfortunately, he chose “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.”
The entire team corralled on the couch, sharing four or five bowls of popcorn and chips, and watching the movie on the giant flat–screen in the meeting room. You were sandwiched between Steve and Peter, attentive to the screen in fear that Steve would be offended if you weren’t. It made you crack a small grin to overhear Sam trying to commentate on the movie, and Bucky immediately tell him to shut the hell up.
You don’t recall at what point of the movie you fell asleep, or how the blanket got draped over you, but it didn’t catch your attention quite like the silent snorer you were cuddled next to. The sound was oddly soothing, and the arm snaked around your torso warmed you more than the blanket did. You would’ve tried to drift back off to sleep in the midst of comfort, if not for the snickers heard beyond your closed eye–lids.
“They look so cozy.” Bucky’s voice was hushed, speaking just above a whisper. The dark of your closed eyes lit up for a second by what you recognized as a shuttered flash photo.
Shit.
“I’m going to make that my lock–screen.” Sam added, trying not to sound as amused as he felt.
There was a quiet pause. “Isn’t that a little weird?” Bucky’s whispered question carried itself above the scattered footsteps of their departure.
When their ascending paces creaked the carpeted floors further out, your eyes lifted, turning your head up to look up at your designated pillow. Upon shifting your sleeping position, you watched Peter adjust mid–slumber, unconsciously catering to your new position.
A smile touched your lips at how peaceful he looked beside you — mouth parted slightly, eyes gently shut, curls falling in front of his face. When you moved to sit up a little, his armed grip around your waist grew tighter, and his sleep stirred at the idea of your absence. You decided against leaving, or moving, and rested your head in the nook of his shoulder. Sleep welcomed you back into slumber quicker than Sam changed his wallpaper.
When you woke in the morning, you thought almost nothing of falling asleep next to Peter. The only thing left to remind you was the lingering aroma of Peter’s cologne, and the ghost of his arm leaving your waistline colder than the rest of your body.
You didn’t pay much mind to it, nor how frequently your train of thought seemed to derail back to Peter somehow; how snug his hold was, the way your head fit with his shoulder like a missing puzzle piece. It felt like a slow–burning ache, the way you missed him. But he was merely your best friend, and the rest of the team seemed to agree with that.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Sam chimed, watching you waltz into the kitchen. He leaned the small of his back against the marble countertop beside the espresso machine, waiting for the pull of his latte shots.
Your hair was still damp from your shower, and your hoodie husked over your body to protect from the looming winter chill. You arched a brow lightly at how amused he seemed to be, slowly recalling his whispered conversation with Bucky from the night prior. You decided to be coy with him. “I think you’ve got your Disney movies mixed up.” You started, pressing on your tiptoes to reach a bowl from the shelf. “We watched Snow White last night, Sam.”
He hummed, sounding skeptical. “Well, everybody but you and your little cuddle–bug boyfriend.” Sam tried to keep himself from laughing. He started to steam the milk he’d set aside to froth to cut you off from giving a witty remark.
Boyfriend. Peter wasn’t your boyfriend, and he probably wouldn’t ever be your boyfriend. Admitting that to yourself sent a sharp jab at your heartstrings, but the pain was quick. Quick like the blush that fanned your face before you dismissed it. Quick like the pour of cereal into your bowl like the thought didn’t flash through your mind.
The steam wand simmered down, and you made it a point to let out a scoff that he could hear. “He’s not my boyfriend–”
You turned. Like an idiot, you turned, bumping bodies with someone and nearly spilled your entire bowl of cereal across the tiled floors of the kitchen. Wide eyed, you looked up, meeting the familiar stare of your best friend. His arms hovered inches from yours, but the electricity flowing between you felt like that length was much shorter. The scent of his cologne filled the room so quick, you nearly forgot how to breathe.
Peter tried to laugh off how tense the room felt, feeling safe enough to once he knew you were okay. “Who’s not your boyfriend?” He asked, the chuckle weaving through his words, sending a pink glisten to your cheeks.
You could feel the smile Sam pressed to the lip of his mug, slurping his latte as he eyed the two of you. “I’ll give you guys the room.” With that, he left, still leaving the kitchen with just as thick of tension. It felt like he left a gigantic elephant in the room, one that had never existed to them until Sam pointed it out. He pointed it out all because you passed out on Peter’s shoulder.
Shaky fingers set the bowl of cookie crisps on the kitchen island before you walked to the fridge for some milk. Your eyes stayed glued to your task, almost like you were trying to avoid eye contact with Peter for some weird reason. How odd.
“Boyfriend?” You pressed air through your closed lips, blowing a dismissive rasberry. “I didn’t say boyfriend, I said Boygenius–” It was a solid cover up, for sure; you thought, pouring milk over your cereal. “They’re performing this weekend with Clairo–”
Peter pressed his palm into the kitchen island, leaning against the structure right beside you. The body heat from him radiated into yours from your close proximity, reeling you in with how intoxicating his presence was. “Y/N, are you hiding something from me?” He faked an offended expression, mouth agape from his act of shock.
That’s when your eyes met. And you swore that the connection of your vision sent him every thought that ran through your head. Every feeling that coursed through your veins telepathically traveled through his too. It was a second, just one second, where you felt like he shared the same conflicting feelings you did. Perhaps he felt the same attraction towards you that you felt for him.
It didn’t help that he stared down at you with such earnesty and attentive nature. His eyes glossed over every inch of your face, studying your expression like he’d find the answer to his question there. You knew the exact moment that he found it, too.
Shit.
You picked up your bowl of cereal, stiffening your posture as you took careful steps backwards. “Nope! Nothing. I’m not hiding anything!” You sounded as suspicious as ever, so your escape route needed to be hasty. You opened and closed the fridge with just enough time to throw the milk in before rushing off to your bedroom.
This wasn’t the first time you’d gotten these intrusive–romantic thoughts about Peter Parker, or when you’d gotten these frantic–giddy jitters around him, either. Typically, you just let them die out over a day or two and then you could find your little pocket of comfort and normalcy again.
But the second you entered your room, you saw the framed photo of what you assumed was the photo Sam took of you and Peter passed out on the couch. The second you saw it, you knew this wouldn’t die out as quickly as you’d hoped. You couldn’t lie, though…It was a pretty cute photo. Although, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on the captured moment. The neon–pink sticky note on the top right corner caught your attention.
‘I better get invited to the wedding, —Sam.’
Shit.
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webslingingslasher · 2 years
Text
Red Light/Green Light
I personally, love a good angst to fluffy story.
Pairing: mcu Peter Parker X Reader
Genre: Angst
Warnings: fights :( and mentions of sex if you squint.
Word count: 7.5K
You weren’t an anxious girlfriend by any means. 
Peter could do whatever he wanted when he wanted.
If he wanted to go get pizza with MJ you would encourage it. If he wanted to help out Inez in intro to darwinism because she was confused you would tell him to go for it. When he got Bailey's number to help her with some minor debate help you saw no issue with it. 
Until now.
Now you were asking yourself if you sent him into the arms of another girl. 
You hated that you noticed this, you were never like this before but Peter suddenly had a lot to talk about with Bailey. When you went out for dinner he started keeping his phone upside down, when you hung out he kept it near him at all times so when a text came through he could intercept it immediately. 
That was red flag number one. 
It didn’t come to a head until recently. Peter went to the bathroom during movie night and his phone went off once, you continued to look at the screen. His phone went off twice, you looked at his phone face down on the arm of the couch. His phone went off three times, you looked towards the phone and the bathroom door. When it went off for the fourth time you couldn’t help it. You never looked through his stuff before but what could Bailey need that it required four double texts? 
Holding your breath and looking towards the door again you lent over and picked up his phone. You sighed when you realized you were correct and looked at the stacked notifications from Bailey. You tapped on them to open them, you needed to put in his passcode. You typed it in but it vibrated, you did it again but it happened once more. You did it slower, pressing each number on their own. His phone locked, one minute before you could try again. 
He changed his passcode. 
Red flag number two. 
You tried to stay normal but the panic of him talking to a girl while changing his passcode didn’t leave much room for interpretation. When he came out of the bathroom he was wiping his hands on his pajama pants. He sat down and kissed your head, “You okay?” His question came when you pulled away from him, you crossed your arms and stared at the screen. 
“Baby?” He called when you ignored him. 
You hummed. If you spoke to him right now it wouldn’t be pretty. 
“You okay? You look like-” He started to make a joke, you cut him off. It wasn’t the time to be cute and funny. 
“Like my boyfriend has been texting a girl so much it made me insecure and when I tried to look at what was so important she needed to text you four times in a row I realized you changed your phone passcode?” You turned to look at him dead in the eye. 
“Do I look like that, Peter?” 
His eyes went wide, his mouth dropped open and his cheeks flushed with color. 
He looked guilty. 
“I, I, I…” He tried to start. 
“You, You, You.” You spat back. 
You stood and grabbed your water bottle and phone. 
“You need a better excuse. I’ll talk to you later.” 
You walked to the door and picked up your backpack. You had a hand on the door and waited. You waited for something, anything. You waited for Peter to speak, to call your name, to call you dumb for insinuatiting what you were, to beg you to stay, to talk about it. You waited for him to web your hand to the door, something. 
You opened the door and waited. You walked over the threshold and waited. You shut the door and waited. You walked down the stairs slowly, you stopped at the lobby entrance for a moment and waited. 
He never came. 
Red flag number three. 
If you were a cartoon character you would have steam coming from your ears. Your head would be red and swelling, it would pop with the pressure of heat and anger. If you could burn holes through someone right now it would be Peter. 
Because, when you tell your boyfriend someone he’s talking to makes you feel insecure and you even snap at him over it and leave his house you would think he would learn something. Not having her stand at his locker, talking back and forth. You watched with seething anger, he was talking about something insignificant, you could always tell when he was ranting on a topic. 
But Bailey, you never really watched her. And boy are you glad you tapped into that conversation. 
Bailey liked Peter. No. She loved Peter. 
You could see it written all over her face, her eyes were lit up at his movements, she was laughing when he wasn’t saying anything funny. She was curling a stand of hair around her finger, twisting her hips back and forth. But Peter, Peter didn't have a notice in the world she was looking at him like that. 
He was just moving things around from his backpack to his locker, he didn’t look at her once but she bored her eyes into his face like he was the world's greatest human. Peter could be deft at times, he was so smart but so dumb. He could recite the first fifty numbers of Pi but had no clue when a girl was into him. 
You slammed your locker and stomped over to him. 
The power that you felt the moment Peter’s gaze finally looked up and smiled at you walking to him. And the moment Bailey’s face dropped. You lent forward for a kiss and smiled when he pushed his head down to meet you, he pulled back but you pulled him back by the waist of his shirt for one more. 
“Looks like someone made up after the fight.” 
Your power was drained. You felt weightless and defeated. 
You looked at Peter and frowned. He almost wanted to cry, in the time you’ve been together he’s never seen a sadder face. 
“You told her?” Your words were built in betrayal. He wouldn’t talk to you but he talked to her? The reason you felt so shitty to begin with? 
“Yeah,” He looked at Bailey for a second, he licked his lips and thought of his next words carefully. 
“Yeah, I just needed a girl’s perspective.” 
You stepped back from him. 
“A girl's perspective?” 
You looked at Bailey, she had a half smirk but dropped it when Peter looked at her again. 
He nodded his head and gulped. Bailey said this would help but it was backfiring badly. He didn’t choose his words carefully enough. 
“You could’ve asked MJ or literally anyone else.” Your voice was monotone. 
“Well Bailey-” He started. He was defending her. Not you. 
Red flag number four. 
You cut him off and spoke loudly. You wanted the hall to hear this. 
“Bailey wants to fuck you. She’s trying to fuck this up.” You pointed between you and him. 
“And you’re letting her.” 
You stepped back ready to turn away to go to class. You looked at Bailey once more, her head was down and her cheeks were the color of a tomato, her whole body was flushed. You called her out in front of everyone. 
You looked back at Peter and pointed at her ashamed stance. 
“I don’t want to give you an ultimatum. I’m not that kind of girlfriend, but when you choose two girls you lose the one.” 
You shook your head at him in disappointment and turned for math class. 
—------------------------------------------------
Peter was always your partner in lab. Even though you didn’t sit together he made a deal with his seat partner that during lab he would work with you instead. He always looked forward to the block class, he got almost 2 hours with you and especially today he needed the time to talk to you, to try and fix this because god, you were pissed. 
But imagine his surprise when the teacher called for lab and you moved to his table but when his table partner went to stand you pushed his shoulder back down. 
“Thanks Tye, but today I’m going to work with Bailey.” 
You looked at Peter and turned to go back to your work station with Bailey. Her face froze in panic when you returned, you smiled at her. 
“Why aren’t you working with Peter?” She laughed to ease the tension. It didn’t work. 
“Because,” You sat next to her and twirled a strand of her hair around your finger. 
“I don't want to work with Peter today. I want to talk about Peter today. I thought you would love that, both of us chatting about the boy we love.” 
Peter gulped. You knew he could hear you, you knew he wouldn’t be able to focus right now. You knew he was in full blown panic mode. You knew he was a nervous pee-er. 
Bailey looked behind her at Peter but you caught her chin to bring her back to your face. 
“He’s nervous. He doesn’t like that I broke the routine.” You looked at her. 
“When he’s nervous he has to pee. It’s cute, on our first date he had to pee like seven times.” 
“He’s about to ask for a bathroom pass.” 
Peter’s hand raised, “Mrs. McClendon, can I go to the bathroom?” 
You raised an eyebrow at her. “Told you.” 
You watched her take your words in silence. She was scared of you at the moment, it was cute. 
“Now, when he gets back, he is going to look at us. He’s going to wipe his hands on his pants and bite his lower lip. Then he’s going to sit down, he’s gonna tap his pencil on the desk and bounce his leg. Then he’s going to get up and look around and sharpen his pencil at the front of the class so he can get a better look at me to make sure I'm not tormenting you too much.” You smiled at her when you finished. 
Bailey wasn’t sure where you were going with this. 
When the class door opened you paused on writing down a chemistry question, the solution was the mixture you would be working on today. 
“Go ahead. Look at him.” You nodded towards the back of the class. Bailey kept her eyes on her paper, you elbowed her. 
“Really, watch him. I’m asking you too.” 
You watched as Bailey looked at you, then turned her head to your boyfriend. You continued to work, even sliding Bailey’s worksheet to you to finish the second half of the equation. Bailey watched Peter at your command, she watched as he wiped his hands and looked around the room chewing on his bottom lip. He looked around until he looked towards their table, his eyes on you. You bent over the table, you looked between the pages and started to mumble. He heard you mutter something along the lines of ‘if Peter was here how would he do this? Is it x squared? No he would say that not every problem would be solved with x squared.’ 
He moved his eyes to see Bailey looking at him, he hadn't even noticed she was staring at him. 
Peter moved to his seat with his head down. He started to tap the end of his pencil on the desk, then moved from biting his lip to shaking his leg. He looked at you once more, ignoring Bailey’s eyes. He looked at his pencil and pressed the lead to his desk watching it snap. He stood and walked to the front of the class to sharpen it again. He looked towards you and watched you struggle with the question, if you weren't mad at him you would have asked for help 3 times over by now. 
He blew a breath through his mouth, he had to at least check on you. He had to make sure you weren’t berating Bailey too bad. He slowly made his way towards you, if the teacher asked he was taking the long way back to his seat. He paused in front of your seat, he was ignoring Bailey right now. Even he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and talk to her right now. 
“How’s it going over here?” 
You looked up to Peter and smiled, you wrapped an arm around Bailey’s elbow and tugged her into your side. “Great! You know, I think we have some things in common.” You looked at her and watched her slow blink, you pushed your shoulder to hers, “Right?” She just nodded blankly. 
“That’s great.” Peter responded weakly, he moved to stand over your shoulder. 
“Need any help?” 
You straightened your back and felt him involuntarily move in, it was a habit. He was used to standing guard over you. 
“Yes, actually.” You pulled your arm from Bailey’s, and pointed to the sixth task. 
He hummed and moved forward, his hand moving over your shoulder to grab your pencil. He lent his mouth into the back of your head and placed a soft kiss. You knew it was an ‘I love you’ and grabbed his wrist in a silent ‘I love you too.’ 
“You know you can’t solve everything with x squared right?” You lent your head back into his chest and groaned. 
“I know but last lesson it was the answer to everything and it made me feel smart and now I need your help again.” You placed a kiss on his forearm. “Every time I feel caught up it changes.” 
Peter hummed and wrote the equation down for you, most times he helped you solve it. Sometimes you weren't in the mood for a whole lesson and he would just give you the answer. 
“I know, it’s such a drag to help you. I mean, you have to come over and I help you and then we get to watch movies and I get to kiss up on you. It’s actually terrible.” He kissed your forehead and pulled back. 
“You’re good to start now. You wanna come over tonight? We can do homework, or…” He trailed off and moved to your right ear, his whisper to you only, he didn’t want Bailey to hear, your reaction alone would make her shake. 
“Or, we can do something else. May isn’t home, she won’t be back til tomorrow evening. Whole place for us all night.” He mumbled into your ear and you pulled back with a gasp. You held a hand to your chest, “Peter Parker!” He hummed and smiled, he placed a kiss on the top of your head. 
Before he parted he pulled your head back by your chin, your face pulled backwards to look at him upside down. He had both his hands on the side of your face and smiled with his whole heart, he looked into your eyes and spoke honestly. 
“Hey. I love you.” He winked and went back to his seat. 
You started to pull the liquids to make the chemical reaction. 
“How accurate was I?” 
Bailey looked at you, and spoke softly. 
“Spot on.” 
“Know why I told you that?” She shook her head no. 
You smiled at her with pity, you knew she felt it. She looked down in shame, “Know why I asked you to look at him?” She looked at you again, “No.” 
“Because, You will never know him like I do. And he will never love you like he loves me.” 
Bailey was silent for the rest of lab. 
—----------------------------------------------------------
Peter thought he had made it right. 
You talked to him in lab. You lent into his touch and he even gave you the answer off the bat. He even totally ignored Bailey and felt like a dick but he did it so you would know there was nothing to worry about. He loved you, he thought you knew that. He didn’t mean to make you so upset, he really didn’t mean to make you cry. 
In fact, if Peter really thought about it he can’t remember a time he’s made you cry like this. He made you cry because he made you feel beneath him. 
Peter thought when you came over tonight all would be solved. There would be no Bailey discussion, he figured he made his point when he ignored her existence in class today but apparently that wasn’t good enough. 
The way tonight went Peter wasn’t even sure he had a girlfriend anymore. 
Honestly he wasn’t too sure when it started. He wondered if you came over with the intention to fight or it just happened, maybe it was intentional because you didn’t even bring your backpack. You were in pajamas and had mascara under your eyes, he wondered if it was from crying or rubbing at your eyes from a long day. 
“Hi.” He greeted you at the door. 
“Hey.” That set him back some, you both always said the same thing. It was always hi, always. Peter felt like he was slipping, were you both on different pages? 
“Hey?” 
“Hello?” You questioned back. 
“Are we just running through formal greetings?” You moved to the kitchen to inspect his fridge. Peter always had the best snacks and drinks, and they were always different. It was the first thing you always checked, looking for the flavor of the week. 
“Hi. It’s always hi.” Peter felt nervous, his eyes shot to his bathroom door. 
You scanned the fridge and found the new soda flavor in front of you. 
“Oo, orange? May is going crazy. If she gets grape next time I won't leave until I finish all of them.” 
“Did you hear me?” He shifted his weight. 
“Huh? Oh, yes sorry. Hi, Peter.” Your voice was muffled when you poked your head back into the fridge. 
Peter frowned. It threw off his balance and it didn’t feel the same when he asked you to say it. He wanted you to do it naturally, not because he wanted it. 
“Babe, do you have any more cherry Coke? I kinda want one of those instead.” 
“Um, Maybe. I can look, I really have to pee though.” He nearly sprinted to the bathroom. 
When he opened the door he saw you standing right by it, he jumped a little and held his hand to his chest. He looked behind you to the kitchen and started to make his way to look for your cherry coke. 
He stopped when you put out an arm to block him from moving. 
“Am I making you nervous?” 
Peter looked around and looked back at you. 
“A little.” 
You raised your eyebrows. 
“Why?” 
“I think you're mad at me.” 
You paused and thought about it. You were a little upset still but not angry. 
“I don’t think I am. I’m a little upset but I don’t want to yell at you.” 
“You’re not mad?” 
You moved in for a hug and squeezed until he grunted. 
“Not mad.” 
“Then why didn’t you say hi?” 
“Hi.” You kissed where your head fell on his chest. You leaned up and kissed up his neck into his jaw, each kiss he was given an ‘Hi’.
“Okay, okay I get it!” He laughed and pushed you away from him. 
You followed him to the kitchen and watched him squat in front of the fridge, his head ducking to try and find a Coke for you, he knows you stashed one. You just forgot where you put it. He rooted around in the vegetable drawer and pulled the last one out. He held it to you and you gasped and held it to your chest. 
“My hero!” 
Peter stood and stretched, “If only every crime was that easy.” 
You yawned at his stretch and watched him copy. 
“I’m putting on my PJ’s. You pick the movie.” You gave him a ‘you sure?’ look. Peter always chose the movies, he said you had the worst taste in movies and you weren’t able to pick them anymore. When you binge TV he loves your choices, but movies were a failed task. 
“I’m positive. Be right back.” He answered your look, it made your heart swell when he did that. He knew you so well that one look could ask him a question. 
You cracked open the can and took a sip, you offered one to Peter. He took the can and took a mouthful that puffed his cheeks out. He wiggled his eyebrows and you giggled, he turned to his room to change. You meant to walk to the couch to choose a movie, and you did. You even sat your soda and phone down but then the thought of Peter changing was so exciting you bailed and went to watch him. 
Except the excitement was blown the second you walked in. Peter wasn’t changing, he was sitting on his bed with his phone pulled to him with the charger in. He was fully clothed still, he went in with the intention of getting on his phone, not putting on pajamas. 
His fingers were moving fast, he was trying to write as quickly as the thoughts came to him. 
You knew who he was talking to. 
Red flag number 5. 
“What is wrong with you?” Your words were venomous. 
Peter’s head shot up and his eyes went wide. 
“You didn’t think I’d catch you? You’re so smart Peter, why are you being so dumb?” 
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. 
“What does that mean?” 
“Why are you still talking to her? What is it about her?” You pointed at his phone in his hand. He locked it and placed it face down on the nightstand. Your breath caught, he still didn’t want you to see. 
You took a step back, and stared at his phone. 
“Peter, I think we should break up.” 
Peter stood from the bed. 
“What?” 
“I think we should break up.” 
“What?” He couldn’t conceptualize what you were saying. 
“I don’t like how you’re making me feel. I think I need to step back from this.” 
“Step back? No, no no no, you don't need to step back.” His hands started to shake. He didn’t mean for this to happen, he didn’t know how serious you were at school. You told him you’d dump him. 
“Then why are you still texting her?” You shouted the words, tears gathering. You were about to break down. 
“She’s a friend! You treated her like shit today and she wanted to make it right with me.” Peter sighed and felt tired, he didn’t feel like fighting right now. 
“I treated her like shit? She’s the one that is trying to ruin this!” 
“Really? Because you’re the one fighting with me.” 
The tears came down your face, you started to huff. 
“Why are you letting her do this?” 
Peter ran a hand over his face. He could fight guys all night long but fights with his girlfriend were daunting and exhausting. There was always too much emotion involved. 
“I’m just talking to her. As a friend. I’m your boyfriend, you won.” 
“Then why did you change your passcode!” You screamed the words, your breaths were short.
“And why do you hide your phone from me? And why are you lying about talking to her?” You were on the verge of hyperventilating. 
“I’m not! Morgan got my password and texted everyone in my recents I sucked. I changed it then, I swear! I’m not trying to hide it but you said you were insecure!” Peter tried to defend himself but just put his foot in his mouth.
“I'm insecure? You know I'm insecure about her and you’re still talking to her?” You wiped your tears and sniffled. 
“She just went through a bad break up! She said it was hurting debate so she needed help and she just started talking to me.” 
“She wants a rebound not a friend Peter!” You were hurt and frustrated. 
“Oh my God!” He shouted and pulled at his hair. 
“She knows you exist! She knows we're dating!.” He pointed between you two.  
“And she doesn’t care! You know she likes you, I know you do!” Your voice was rising again. 
“I didn’t know it until today, I swear. But she knows we’re dating and that nothing will happen! She told me today!” 
“And you told her about last night?” You shot at him.
“I needed to talk to someone!” He matched your tone. 
“But not your girlfriend? Really? You’re going to talk to the person that made me leave?” You slapped your hands on your thighs and sniffled. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked out his window as you started to cry again. 
Peter sighed and looked at you, you were so upset you were trembling. He had really fucked this up, he was trying to save the relationship not make it worse. He stepped forward to grab you but you stepped back and looked at him. 
“Why her?” You sniffled and wiped away your tears before more were released. 
“I never get jealous. I let you talk to other girls all the time, I let you hang out with them and I don't get mad or question you. But this one, this one makes me upset. Why can’t you get that? It’s just one.” You spoke softly, your lip trembled with the sob that wanted to escape. You wanted nothing more than your boyfriend to hug you and tell you he would stop talking to her, but he didn’t. 
“I didn’t mean for that to happen, Y/N. I just thought she needed a friend. I just think you’re reading too much into it.” He spoke calmly but his words made you feel dumb, like this was a silly argument. 
Red flag number 6.
“I don’t like you right now Peter. I’ve told you how I feel about her twice now and each time you wave it off. It’s not about her anymore, she's just a girl from school. But you're my boyfriend, and you've made me feel belittled and downplayed and lower than you.” You moved towards the door, but kept facing him. 
“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. It wasn’t my intention.” His response was robotic. 
You guffawed at him, his words were hollow. Did he not understand what was happening here? 
“You know what Peter? It feels like you're cheating on me.” Your words sent swords to his heart. 
“I’m not- I would never.” He moved towards you and grabbed your hands in his. 
“I’m not cheating on you. I wouldn’t do that, okay? I love you.” 
You pulled your hand from his and shook your head. The disappointment was written on your face, even he could see it. 
“If you loved me you wouldn’t treat me this way.” Your words were soft, the decision was made. You weren’t going to make your partner choose you. 
“What does that mean?” His voice was panicked. He didn’t mean for this to happen. 
You stayed silent. He knew what this meant. He was fucking this up, you were the love of his life and he’s about to let you walk out the door. He was letting you dump him. 
“Baby, what does that mean?” You turned your face and held your eyes shut as you cried. This was so hard. 
“Baby?” His voice was pleading. You cried harder at the word, it was yours. He gave you that name and you wore it like a badge. 
“Please.” His voice cracked. 
Peter had never cried in an argument, but this wasn’t an argument anymore. This was a breakup. 
“Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this to me. I’m sorry, please don’t. Please.” He begged you. 
You shook your head, you had to stay strong. You had to prove you were worth more. 
“Baby, please. I’ll let you read the texts. I’ll block her number. Please. Anything.” 
You met his eyes, they were red and glistening. His nose was red, you remembered you told him his nose always went red when he cried. You called him your little rudolph. You just felt sad looking at him. 
“Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked and tears ran down his cheeks. His breaths were short, once the tears started he couldn’t stop. He brought his wrist to his eye and rubbed at it. He turned his back to you, his quick inhales left you wanting to run to him. You wanted to rub your hand down his back and help him breathe, you wanted to hold him and tell him it was okay but it wasn’t. You didn’t feel secure anymore. 
“Peter,” You looked at his front door, you needed to leave. You couldn’t watch him anymore, it was becoming unbearable. 
“Peter, I should go.” You nearly whispered the words, they were so hard to say. 
“Y/N.” He whimpered. You’ve never heard him like this. He was pleading with you, he needed you like water right now. 
“Peter, I have to go now. I’ll see you later, okay?” You stared at his back. You realized you hadn’t kissed him tonight, you didn’t get a last kiss. 
You silently grabbed your phone and left. He didn’t say a word, part of you wanted him to fight harder for you. The other was glad he didn’t, he let you make this as easy as possible and you knew it killed him inside to do it. 
You loved him. You truly loved him with your whole heart. And if you were cruel you would tell him that, but instead you looked at him one last time. He was hunched over as his shoulders shook, he was holding in his cries for you. Your heart fell to the floor and you left it there as you passed over the threshold. 
Peter couldn’t sleep that night. 
He also couldn’t be Spider-Man that night. He couldn’t do anything that required him to get out of bed, he felt trapped the second you left. His mind was hollow, he was entirely empty inside. He kept replaying the fight in his mind, he was never good at fighting with you. He always said the wrong things and made it worse. That’s why he never tried to fight. 
He felt depleted and at a loss. He felt so fucking stupid too. He doesn’t know why he fought you so hard on it. It was one person that made you feel bad, but Peter, the one who wants to do nothing but love and protect you made it worse. He didn’t take your side, and that’s why you dumped him. He doesn’t blame you, he’d dump himself if he could. 
He told himself ‘That’s it!’ If he goes over to Bailey’s and talks to her he can solve everything with you. He just needed to friend dump her and everything goes back to normal. Satisfied with his plan he jumped out of bed and grabbed his wallet and phone barley locking the front door before speeding down the stairs. 
When he got to Bailey’s the plan was simple: Tell her girlfriend dumped you, tell her you can no longer be friends, get girlfriend back. Easy enough. 
But the second the first part came out she let out an “Thank God!” and sighed. 
“What?” Peter was puzzled. 
“Thank God! She was the absolute worst. I don’t know how you lasted that long with her. She is truly insufferable. She’s always talking about you and going on and on about how special she is to be with you. If I’m being honest she never deserved you.” She paused and took a sip from her straw. 
“You didn’t like her?” Peter was lost. Bailey had told him you were friends and she loved how cute you and him were together. 
Bailey laughed at his question. “God no, I was praying for her downfall.” 
“What? Why?” Peter couldn’t believe this. He was so blindsided, you were right. All she wanted was to get him to herself. And he let it happen. 
“She didn’t deserve you. I just said that, silly.” 
Bailey moved closer to Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder. 
“But, if you’re feeling sad and needy I can make a good rebound. I need one myself, this works out perfectly.” She lent in to kiss him but Peter pushed her back. 
“Are you insane? You said you needed a friend. I was good to you, I believed you when you said you wanted nothing more than that. I fought with my girlfriend over you. I got dumped because of you and you want to have sex?” Peter stood and shook his head at her. 
“You’re not a good person. You rubbed off on me, I was a terrible boyfriend tonight. You don’t deserve me at all, and how you could insinuate that is beyond me. You are a shitty human who did a terrible thing.” He spat the words and turned to leave. 
“Oh yeah? Well you’re just as bad. You fell into my trap just as easy, you knew what I wanted. Even your girlfriend called me out and you still kept talking to me. You must not have loved her that much.” She shrugged her shoulders, this was nothing to her. 
Peter’s blood boiled with her words. You had told him those words just a few hours before and now Bailey was rubbing that in his face. Peter clenched his fists but couldn’t keep calm, he was so pissed at this girl that ruined his relationship he couldn’t keep a level head. He turned to walk to where she had stayed. Peter bent at the waist so his face was in hers directly, he wanted her to know the words he was about to share came from his heart. 
“You are vile. You are scum. You are a terrible shitty human with no remorse or moral standpoints. You prayed on pity and turned it into a fun game. You mean nothing to me, if you were on fire I wouldn’t even spit on you. I think you are the worst person I have ever met and I’ve met a lot of them.” His words were ice cold, he has never spoken such cruel things. 
“Wow. That hurts.” She blinked at him. 
“You know what Bailey? I hope you find love, I really do. And I hope it’s really good. The kind of once in a lifetime kind of love. The love where you know the other person like the back of your hand, there is nothing that they can hide from you, and you can’t hide it from them. I want you to have a love that gives you a reason to wake up in the morning, someone that makes you breathe better just by seeing them. A love where you can’t imagine one possible moment without them because no matter what it is they just make it so much better. I hope that for you, I really do.” Peter spoke sincerely and went to leave. 
“Do you really?” Her voice was soft. She always wanted a love like that, she dreamed of it. 
“Of course.” He had his hand on her doorknob and turned his head over his shoulder. 
“Then I hope you fuck it all up and lose it all.” He opened the door and slammed it behind him. 
Peter was banging on your window. 
You tried to ignore the taps at first, but then they were knocks. Then they were thumps of his palm against the window. You rolled your eyes, there was a reason it was shut and locked. You wanted to keep him out. 
His restlessness was unsettled, his bangs became faster until you huffed and threw the covers off you and ripping the curtains open. You stared at Peter on the other side of the glass, and waited. You weren’t going to say a word until he did. 
Peter looked at you wide eyed with an open mouth. He didn’t expect you to actually come to the window, he assumed he would have to break in. 
“What?” You barked the words at him. You didn’t want to break the silence first but he was taking too long. Peter cupped his hand around his ear and made a confused face. “What?” You repeated. He narrowed his eyes and shrugged his shoulders and pointed to his ears. 
“I know you can hear me Peter!” 
He stared blankly at you. 
You groaned and unlocked the window and threw it up. 
“Hi!” He smiled at you. 
“Hi.” 
His heart clenched. You still did it. Involuntary or not it counted. 
“What do you want?” You were quick to the point. 
“Oi! What happened to exes being friends?” 
You frowned at him. It’s too soon for him to be making these jokes, it hasn’t even been twelve hours. 
“Not funny yet?” He read your mind. 
“No.” 
“That’s okay. I’m still into my ex.” He shrugged and watched you roll your eyes. He didn’t miss the hint of a smile on your lips, he still has you. 
“Why are you here?” 
“I went to Bailey’s house.” He started but you were finished at that sentence. 
You stared at him and pushed the window down, he caught it at the bottom and pushed it up. You huffed and pushed it down, he kept his hand in place the window not budging against his grasp. You stood on your tiptoes and put all your weight into pushing it down but it stayed complacent. 
“This isn’t one you’ll win baby.” His tone was cocky, he liked seeing you flustered. 
“You can’t call me that I’m not your girlfriend.” You sat down at the window so you were equal height with Peter on the other side. You grabbed at this hand and tried to uncurl his fingers on the wood. 
“Oh you like rubbing that in.” He watched as you tried to get him to release his grip but you were failing. 
“Peter let go!” You reached your arm out to pull at his wrist. 
“No. I love you.” 
You pulled away and tucked your knees to your chest. You put your head down and started to cry, your shoulders shaking with each sob. Peter pulled the window open and let himself in, he sat down with you and wrapped his body around yours. You cried harder at his warmth, you turned around to press yourself into his neck. 
“Why’d you let me do that?” Your words were muffled in his shirt. 
“Because you had to.” He kissed your forehead and rested his head on yours. 
Green flag number 1.
“Can I continue?” You nodded your head against his. 
“I went to Bailey’s house. See, I had this great idea that if I told her what happened she would be empathetic and set it straight and then we would never talk again and me and you would get back together and the worst five hours of my life would be over. But something worse happened.” 
You sniffled and pushed him back with your hands on his chest. You looked over his face and neck, if he was here to tell you he hooked up with her you would lose it. 
“What happened Peter?” 
He sighed and looked down. “You were right.” 
“Huh?” 
“I know right? Here I go with my loud mouth saying you don’t understand, but it was me babe. I didn’t understand. You were right, you were so right.” 
“About what?” 
Peter leaned back on his arms, “She wanted to bone me babe. Like right out the gate, I went over there heart in my hands. No light or soul left in me, just grasping at straws. I tell her you just dumped me with a capital D, no remorse, just a straight kill shot.” He smiled when he made you laugh, you wiped at your nose with a sleeve of his hoodie. 
“And she goes, and I quote, “Thank, God.” and I obviously, in pure shock. Just double knifed right now, punches from every side. I say, “what?” because there is no way I heard that right and she says it again. Then she said she hated you, which she said you were friends all along, and that you didn’t deserve me. Then said I needed a rebound and so did she and this was actually a good thing if I think about it. Then she tried to actually bone me.” Peter concluded his rant. 
“What did you do?” You looked at him and hoped he did the right thing. 
“I barked at her.” 
You laughed and leaned forward to hit his arm, “No you didn’t.” 
“No I didn’t. I said some really, really mean things. Like, I defended your honor so hard she’s gonna form a crush on you instead.” He smiled at you, he wanted to ask if everything was okay now. 
Green flag number 2. 
“How mean?” You pushed him, you’ve never seen Peter mean. He must have wished her coffee was always too sweet or too bitter, never just right. That's the most vicious you could imagine Peter getting. 
He let out a puff of air. 
“Uh, something about being vile and being a shitty human and hoping she has the once in a lifetime kind of love you always dream of and she fucks it all up. Or something like that, I dunno it’s kinda blur.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked towards you. 
Green flag number 3.
You pulled your head back in impressment. 
“Wow. I’m lucky you spared my feelings when I totally crushed you after I slammed dumped you.” 
“Good one, babe.” He stuck his hand out for a fist bump. 
“You were totally heartless there. I mean I was crying like a baby and you stone cold just left. Now I know who the bad cop is gonna be when we have kids.” He poked fun and you turned your head at him. 
“We’re not getting back together, Peter.” 
Your words were ice. Peter felt frozen, he was sinking on the titanic. He figured it was okay now, you were talking like you were okay. Peter had a deer in headlights look and cleared his throat. 
“Um, yeah. Of course, I really fucked that one up. I just wanted you to have closure.” He gave you a tight lipped smile and went to stand so he could make his exit. 
You reached for his wrist and pulled him to keep him sitting. 
“No hard feelings?” You reached your hand out for a handshake. He started at your hand and shook it, he nodded at your words. “No hard feelings.” 
Green flag number 4. 
You let out a breath of fresh air. 
“Oh good. Don’t get me wrong, you’re totally hot and smart and totally my type. I mean you make me laugh even when I’m supposed to be mad at you and you always know how to fix our problems but I mean, I’m still hung up on my ex. It wouldn’t be fair to jump into a new relationship right now.” 
Peter nodded with your words. 
“I understand. I’m still not over my ex, she reminds me a lot like you. Beautiful, witty and just a dream stomper. I still love her actually.” He sighed and reminisced. 
“I still love mine too.” You looked at him and felt like giving him the best kiss of your life. 
“You know if we're both hurting from our ex’s we could just be each other's rebound. It works out perfect.” 
You leaned over and met him in a kiss. He made a surprised sound not expecting your move but grabbed your waist and pulled you into him. He opened his mouth into yours and deepened the kiss, he thought he wasn’t going to be able to do this for a while. Not ever again though, he always knew he would win you back. You moved to straddle his waist, with your arms locked behind his head you pulled back from him and pecked his mouth. 
“I’m sorry I broke up with you.” You whispered into his mouth.
“It’s okay. I deserved it.” He matched your tone. 
Green flag number 5. 
“It was the worst five hours of my life. Let's never do that again.” 
Peter lent in to kiss you again, and again. 
“Deal.” 
“No really, it was traumatic.” 
Peter was kissing down your neck, he hummed and you pulled away with a shout. 
“Was it? I think I was more traumatized. The love of my life broke up with me like it was nothing. I was a mess.” 
“No, actually I had it worse. I mean you were begging me not to do it, I was the heartless monster that had to keep going and actually do it.” 
“I think you gave me trust issues.” He moved some hair behind your ear and you raised your eyebrows at him. 
“Oh I gave you trust issues?” Making sure to enunciate on the you. 
“Mhm. I see the error of my words.” 
You pressed your forehead against his and stilled. It was okay. Everything was okay. 
“Hey, Petey?” 
“Yes, baby?” 
“I love you.” 
“I love you too.” 
Green flag number 6.
6K notes · View notes
bitchyycapricorn · 5 months
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Peter Parker praising fem reader over every single thing until she snaps n they get down n dirty 😈😋
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Peter Parker x Reader + Praise Kink- Dinner Reservations
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Kinktober Masterlist
Masterlist
AN: Hey! So sorry this took so long to get out. Fucking love this request and all the other dirty slutty requests I’ve gotten so far! This is not edited, I honestly just wanted to start getting some content pumped out. Hope this met your expectations! I let a good chunk of my impulsive thoughts win ngl. Warnings: SMUT BRO DO NOT FLAG I STG, Praise kink to the MAX, blowjob, doggy style, readers a lil bratty. Peter Parkers sexy and I can’t take Kinktober warnings seriously. It’s kinktober. Don’t flag me otherwise I’ll delete my account and yeet my tablet. <3
Peter hadn’t let up all day- the subtle teasing, touching, and…praising. It seemed like everything you did he managed to find a way to slip in a few small words of praise. Cooking breakfast was followed by a “Looks amazing darling, you did such a good job,” while Peter softly grabbed your hips and pressed a few kisses to your neck. Redoing the living room? Yep, that was followed by a “It looks so good in here, I love the new Halloween decorations. You’re doing so good baby, keep it up.” Peter would praise with a massive smirk.
Your head was spinning now as you got ready for dinner. “Such a pretty girl…” Peter whispers into your neck as he places a few delicate kisses to your skin. It felt like everything came to a halt in that moment, something in you just…snapped. Turning to Peter you thrust yourself towards him, your lips hungrily pressing against his while your hands grip the nice fabric of his suit. Your legs push you forward towards the bed, making Peter stumble backwards as he attempts to follow your movement. “Y/N we have dinner res-“ he begins before you cut him off with a sharp-
“Fuck your dinner reservations Parker.” His legs hit the edge of the bed leaving him no choice but to sit down as you straddle him. Your mouth moves against his while your hands begin to work on shedding his jacket. Peters attempts to pry you off are futile the moment you’re unbuckling his belt. “All day Peter…you’ve been…ugh!” You huff out, now trying to unbutton his shirt.
Another smirk appears on Peters face as he realizes what he’d done. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he teases, allowing his shirt to fall on the floor next to his jacket. “I haven’t done anything wrong.” He insists with fake innocence.
Running your hands down his abs you look into his eyes with a deadly glare. “You’ve been fucking teasing me.” You try and scold.
“Tease? I haven’t done anything of the sort. I’ve just been telling you what a good girl you’ve been today.” His words were low and seductive as he leans forward to press more kisses down your exposed neck. His hands slowly reaching behind you to unzip your short black silk dress. The feeling of his cold hands on your now bare back made your jaw drop and your mind go fuzzy. You couldn’t help but lean towards him, enjoying the way his touch made you feel. “Oh, not so tough now pretty girl” He laughs while his hands snake under your thighs before flipping you over onto your back.
“Peter!” You gasp, coming out of your previous trance. His face was only inches from yours and you could feel him slowly pulling off your dress.
“Yes pretty girl?” He hums, his hands reaching down to unzip his pants. You gulp, realizing that you’re about to get your ass handed to you for making you both miss the dinner reservations Peter’s had for months. Peter stands in front of you, a smirk forming on his lips. “Be a good girl and get on your knees for me.” He says lowly.
You oblige, quickly getting down and kneeling before him. “Such a good girl,” he praises as he strokes your hair. “Now, suck my cock darling.” Your eyes flicker upwards to look at him, before refocusing on his hands as he pulls his dick out for you. You watch as he strokes himself a few time before you take over. Your lips slowly wrap around the head of his cock while your hand grabs his base. Peter gently pushes your head down further, causing you to gag slightly. “Fuck, taking me so well..” he murmurs as you begin to bob your head on his shaft. As you continue to suck him off, you use your other hand to help jerk off what you can’t reach with your mouth. The sight cause Peter to let out a string of moans as he resists the urge to fuck your mouth.
“Mmm, doin so good for me..” Peter continues to praise, you look up ay him again through your lashes, loving the feeling of his cock down your throat. You let out a small moan as you attempt to take him further, spit running down your chin and all over his throbbing cock. “Fuck, you’re going to make me cum already..” He hisses, slowly easing your mouth off him. “Get on the bed, ass up.”
You don’t waste a moment getting on the bed and arching your back, spreading your legs slightly with your ass in the air. Your tits and face pressing into the sheet with your arms near your head. Peter stood near the edge of the bed, slapping your ass gently as he positions himself behind you. “God Y/N, so pretty for me. Being such a good girl tonight.” He moans as he pushes into you. A moan escapes your lips as you grip the bedsheets. Peter began thrusting into you slowly as his hands grip your hips. He lets out a few more moans as he picks up his pace, slamming into you full force. A small cry tumbles from your lips as your body rocks against his, you can’t help but wiggle your hips as he slams into your cunt.
“Look at you, taking my cock so fucking well. Is this what you wanted? Hm?” Peter asks, slowly gathering up your hair in his hands before giving it a tug.
Your head falls back as you let out a small whimper. “I- I” you stutter, barely able to hold a thought with the feeling of his cock being buried so deep in you.
“Be a good girl and answer me.” Peter snaps, tugging at your hair again.
“Yes!” You cry out as his hips snap into yours even harder. The feeling of being stretched out by his cock was becoming overwhelming as your body shook with pleasure. “Peter I’m so close..” you manage out before spiraling into a fit of desperate moans.
Peter let out a long moan, his thrusts only getting more intense as he watches his cock slip in and out of your dripping cunt. “Be a good girl and cum on my cock,” he urges. Another cry escapes your lips as you feel the coil inside you snap, pleasure rushing over your entire body causing your toes to curl. Peter lets out a ragged moan at the feeling of you convulsing around him. “Fuck..so pretty…so good…you’re doin so good…” he moans before releasing deep inside you.
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Tony, about Clint's kids: How do you keep them from running away when you take them out of the house?
Clint: They like me. They don't want to run away.
Tony: Really?
Clint: Has Peter ran away before?
Peter: Yes. I make him wear one of those toddler backpacks that have a leash attached to them.
Clint: Isn't he seventeen?
Tony: Irrelevant.
inspired by this post by @incorrecthomer
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presleyanswrites · 5 months
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ᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ
pairing(s): mcu Peter Parker x fem!reader
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desc peter gets worried for her girl when she won't eat.
waning(s): mentions of anorexia/bulimia, ED reader, language, grammar, fluff, slight angst. THIS WILL BE A SERIES IF YOU WANT IT !!
a/n: please message me if you feel any of this applies to you. i love you so much. this is just a sneak peek there will be a part two if you guys want it!!! let me know!!
requests | open 💌 masterlist
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you hear the door of your apartment open.
it was peter.
"hey! uh- im home!" he tosses the keys on the couch. "i brought leftover pizza from the lab- Mr. Stark was out of pepperoni is that okay?" he smiles at you as he places the square boxes on the dining table, scratching the back of his head.
you look up from staring at the kitchen counter.
"oh um- i ate earlier. sorry."
you bite your lip nervously as he furrows his eyebrows. you hated lying to him but you just couldn't do this right now.
he looked down at your stomach to see you were covering it with one of your arms, sucking it in so hard it looked like your ribs were showing through your work shirt. his senses we're going off but he shrugged turned away shut the front door behind him.
he sets his mask on the chair before taking a paper plate and placing a peice of pizza on it, taking a bite and says it a mouthful; "well if you change your mind its on the counter." he smiles like a chipmunk and goes over to turn the TV on.
you gulp as he sits in the couch, you're stomach growling. You turn to the cabinet to get a glass and fill it with water from the fridge. downing two full of water to drown the feeling.
you sigh and slip a sweatshirt over your head before going over to the couch to snuggle with peter. you two we're watching breaking bad. Peter was a little obsessed with it and you had watched it together a little more than too many times.
later, crickets could be heard chirping outside the window as the two of you had fell asleep with the tv on. You wake up to the sound of your phone buzzing beside you, as you get up from the couch and creep quietly over into the kitchen.
you sigh. why was this so hard?
you take all of the muffins from the fridge and indulge in every. single. one. you keep eating and eating. you couldn't stop and your stomach kept craving it more, but your brain was on fire.
just one more, right? one more time.
and then you could let yourself starve.
you pull away from the food, your cheeks hurt from the stretch of stuffing your face.
worry filled your lower abdomen as tears began to form in the bottom of your eyes. You sweat as your throat begins to form a ball. you sniffle and wipe your eyes, putting the container back in the fridge.
you tiptoe back to your room before shutting the door behind you in the bathroom.
you sat on the cold floor and stared at the toilet.
you take a deep breath and shuffle open the drawers to your vanity.
you found the same wooden popsicle stick you kept since last summer.
you take a deep breath and open your mouth deepening the stick down the end of your throat, choking on tears as liquid rushed to your face, spilling into the toilet. you forced yourself to gag until all of it was up.
you stared at the sunken bile.
the next morning peter woke up from the couch, making himself a cup of coffee.
you jolted awake from the sound of the grinder running. with a groan, you made yourself get up to go back into the kitchen.
you squeeze your stomach in as your press a kiss to peter's cheek.
"hey love." he smiles, pouring the liquid in his favorite mug.
you rest your chin on the back of his shoulder.
"how'd you sleep?"
"fine." you say, pressing your lips together.
"do you want me to make you some breakfast?" he asks gently, rubbing your back.
you shake your head gently. "thats okay, i'm not that hungry." you smile, even though your stomach was burning for some sort of calories.
he raises an eyebrow, and when he turns to look at your face his expression softens.
"okay." he pulls you in a hug and stretches his mask over his head before swinging away.
taglist/and/or idols: @thievin-stealing @elliexmylove @everythingisawayoflife @cafekitsune @thestarvingwriter @spider-stark @bittenbyyou @incorrectmarvelquote
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*Natasha teaching Peter to drive and taking Y/n along for the ride*
Natasha: That's a pothole. To the left!
Peter: Take it back now y'all *Drives into pothole*
Y/n, sticking their face into the front over the center console: Cha Cha real smooth.
Peter: I don't think that's how the song goes.
Natasha, crying and gripping the handle: Please just take me home.
Peter: Country Roads.
Y/n: To the place.
Peter and Y/n in unison: I Belong!
Natasha, crying harder: What the fuck?
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