#peter parker fan fiction

[slytherheign]

YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

SUMMARY: you can’t help but feel insecure when you realize your best friend peter and the most famous girl in the school are keeping a sweet secret from you.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, awkwardness, jealousy, insecurities, self-loathing, reader is an overthinker and assumes things easily. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. angst with happy ending. dedicated to @joshiiieeenesx, thanks for supporting me and requesting this. i hope you’re having a great day!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS YBWM (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

It was Friday Night.

Your favorite day and time of the week because of your tradition with Peter to order pizza and watch a movie. Tonight was a bit different though, you both decided to order your least favorite flavor of pizza and watch the lowest-rated movie ever. 

Peter made a joke in the middle of the movie, causing you to laugh and cover your face with your hands. It was a habit you developed since you were a kid when a bully made fun of you for having an ‘ugly-laughing’ face. “Stop,” he chuckled as he captured your wrists with his hands. “Stop what?” you questioned unknowingly, allowing him to hold your wrists and pull them away from your face. You stared at him confusingly.

“Stop covering your face when you laugh,” he said. “I can’t see your pretty face.” Peter would always make little comments here and there about you, most of them being compliments. You ought not to make it serious since you’d always tell flirty jokes to each other, but you just can’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach every time he would compliment you.

You tried covering the increasing redness of your cheeks with laughter. “I’m serious. Stop covering your face,” he told you. “What if I told you I’m doing it on purpose?” you thought of a quick funny remark.  “And why, may I ask, are you doing it on purpose?” he quirked an eyebrow. 

“Let’s just say, if you see my beautiful face when I’m laughing, you might just fall in love,” you joked, smirking at him. There was a tinge of the color red in his cheeks, but he was quick to hide it with a chuckle.

“Well, why don’t you let me see your beautiful face then let’s see if I really fall in love?” he remarked. Once again, you laughed because you didn’t know how to respond. Peter was laughing with you when his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stood up, covering the name of the caller with his hand before walking to a private secluded room in his house to answer it. You didn’t mind it. After all, everyone deserved privacy when they’re talking to someone on the phone. Besides, you were actually quite thankful because the phone call interrupted the growing awkwardness in the room. You paused the movie while Peter talked on the phone in the other room.

Minutes passed and you were getting bored of waiting for him. You decided to pull your phone from your jeans pocket and open the Instagram app for a bit. Your feed was pretty much full of your schoolmates that were either busy preparing for prom next friday or busy with the upcoming game on Monday. You scrolled mindlessly, double-tapping each post from your close friends when you stumbled upon a post from her.

Gwen Stacy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body. The cheer captain, head of the planning committee, the smartest in school… well, not the smartest because that would be Peter… but still the smartest girl in school. Having all that, you’d think she was the type to be the typical mean girl, but no… she’s actually the nicest.

In the picture, she was smiling with the other cheerleaders, their teeth as white as snow and their faces as beautiful as barbie dolls even when they were sweating. Sometimes you just wonder if they ever had a bad hair day or they’re just perfect all the time.

“Please! Gwen, come on!” you heard Peter yell. Gwen? Why was he talking to Gwen Stacy?

“Really? Yes!” you heard him exclaim excitedly. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, the feeling was unwelcome because you knew he wasn’t even yours to begin with. But still, it hurt.

The next thing you heard was his footsteps nearing the door. You collected yourself immediately, greeting him with a smile as he opened the door.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, with the same fucking smile you fell in love with. He sat next to you on the couch, subtly putting his arm on the back just around where your head was resting. He grabbed the remote from your hand, but for a few seconds, you felt it linger when his hand touched yours.

He pressed the play button and you both continued to watch the movie.

“Okay, just so we’re clear. You think Peter and Gwen are dating?” your other friend, Mary Jane, iterated on the phone. It was Sunday night, the only time MJ had free time this week since she was also a cheerleader.

“Yes,” you answered clearly. “I heard them talking on the phone the other night. Peter seemed really happy and excited.”

“And what do you feel about that?” she asked.

“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.

“I call bull. Come on, I know you’re in love with Peter.”

“Okay. I do have feelings for him… but I don’t think he feels the same about me. He probably asked Gwen to be his prom date even though we promised we’d take each other to the event.”

“So you’re not going to prom anymore?”

“I mean I already have a dress so I guess I’ll still go. It just sucks that I’ll be going without him.”

“Since when did you get a dress?!” 

“Uhh… since last week?” 

“And you didn’t even tell me?” she made a sound of absolute shock. Knowing her, you knew she probably had her hand on her chest while making that sound. “I could’ve helped you pick.”

“It’s not a problem honestly. Besides, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise?”

“Can you at least tell me the color?” she pleaded.

“Blue. Like the kind of blue in Spider-Man’s suit.”

“Weird way to describe a color. Is there a specific reason why you chose blue? I thought you never liked blue.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you but don’t tell anyone about this because I think Peter is kinda embarrassed about it… Peter is obsessed with Spider-Man. He’s such a huge fan of his–maybe even his number one fan. He even tried to hide it from me, but when I found a Spider-Man suit in his closet he just started getting really nervous and he only stopped when I told him it’s fine if he’s a fan. I’m not judging him, I think Spider-Man is really cool too,” you explained. “I was hoping he’d notice the color reference but now that he’s going with Gwen Stacy, I doubt he would even look at me.”

“You really think Peter would ignore you? Have you seen how that man looks at you?”

“He looks at everyone like that. It’s nothing special,” you denied.

“Listen, believe what you want to believe but I know Peter is definitely in love with you too. But if you did end up alone and out of place at the event, you’re welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks, but you literally have a date. I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” you laughed. “I appreciate the thought though,” you exchanged goodbyes not long after that, wishing her good luck on their cheer performance.

You thought hard about what she said. Peter did become more clingy to you these last few months and he always made sure to text or call you every day. You guessed there really was a chance Peter shared the same feelings with you. 

Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.

You were at the gymnasium where you'd have to watch student-athletes pass the ball to each other, all having the same objective to shoot the ball in their respective goals. And when a member of a team claimed their shot, it would repeat all over again. 

You were never into sports. If you had a choice, you’d rather stay in bed and continue reading Looking For Alaska, but instead, you were stuck sitting on the bleachers while watching cheerleaders dance their routine in such a flawless manner. As much as you wanted to focus on MJ and support her, your eyes couldn’t help but look at Gwen. She really was mesmerizing.

You were too busy comparing her shiny legs and the way they moved with their short flowy skirts with your simple t-shirt and sneakers to even notice someone sitting beside you.

You continued watching Gwen dance, focusing on her pretty face and realizing that even in her sweaty condition she still kept dazzling everyone in the room with her beautiful smile. You noticed her wink in your direction. For a moment you thought she was winking at you, but when you followed the direction she was smiling at you noticed it was directed at someone beside you—Peter. 

Funny. You didn’t even know Peter was beside you.

“Hi?” you greeted, putting your best smile in front of him while your stomach ached from cruel jealousy.

“Hey,” he simply replied, before focusing on the phone he just got out of his pocket. He was busy texting someone. 

“So…you already have a suit for Friday?” you asked, trying to start a conversation. He shook his head. “Nope. But I plan on looking later today.”

“Cool. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t have anything to do after this,” you offered. 

He stopped and finally looked at you. You noticed how his eyes widened at your question and after mere seconds of looking at your eye, he looked away. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, his body language already told you that he already had someone he was going with.

You felt too sick to even hear his reply, immediately knowing the answer. You excused yourself, going straight to the bathroom to try to compose yourself and your body that was slowly starting to shake. You looked at yourself in the mirror, yelling inside your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. 

You and Peter were supposed to be inseparable. From childhood up until that moment earlier on the bleachers, you thought you would end up together.

All those years, you have convinced yourself you would be together and told the stars that he belonged with you.

But maybe he belonged with someone else.

And if you truly loved him, who were you to stop him from following his heart?

The moment you stepped inside the school tomorrow morning, Peter immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

If it was yesterday or the days before, you would’ve loved it and your stomach would’ve already been swarmed with butterflies. But today, all it felt was aching pain.

“Hey,” he kissed your cheek, a thing he always did whenever he saw you at school. “MJ told me you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve walked you home.”

“It’s fine, really,” you answered. It wasn’t fine, but how could you tell him he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay at school yesterday?

“Well, I missed you. You got me really worried.”

And there it was again, the feeling of your heart jumping just from the words he said and how his voice spoke them. Was Gwen even okay with him putting his arm around your shoulder and walking with you in the hallways?

You did your best acting like everything was alright for the rest of today. Peter was busy texting Gwen for most of the time anyway, it wasn’t hard to convince him everything was fine.

Classes for Wednesday and Thursday were suspended to give way for prom preparations. You didn’t have much to do on Wednesday, so when MJ offered an idea to practice doing makeup and putting on the dresses to prepare for prom, you agreed.

You sat in your room in front of your vanity mirror while MJ did your makeup for you. She matched the eyeshadow with the color of your dress, and you must admit, she did amazing. Next was your hair, you requested it to be an updo, with the hairpins you picked out scattered attractively.

For a moment, you wondered what Peter could be doing right now. His house was just next to yours, his bedroom window facing yours and if you only pulled your curtains aside, you would see him through his window—if it wasn’t covered by his curtains.

Mary Jane snapped you back to reality by complimenting the details of the dress she just pulled out of your closet. “I need to see you in this dress now.”

You chuckled but complied nonetheless. With her help, you carefully put on the dark blue long dress. “Shit. This dress is made for you,” she complimented. It was true, you were indeed a vision. The dress hugged your body perfectly and the details were perfect to your liking. You never liked the color blue, but this dress got you second thinking. 

After putting on your heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror when MJ’s phone suddenly rang. “Peter? Hi,” she answered. As soon as she said his name, you turned around to face her.

“Are you okay?” MJ asked Peter. “You sound ill.”

“What’s happening?” you didn’t care anymore if Peter wasn’t talking to you. Something was wrong with him based on MJ’s reaction, and you were concerned.

“Oh my god.”

“MJ, what is it?” 

“Something is really wrong with him. I think we need to go to his hou–” she didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence when you immediately walked out of your room still in your dress and on your way to Peter’s house. MJ followed you but stayed outside Peter’s house. She smirked the moment you entered his house. Everything was going as planned.

Aunt May was thankfully on vacation somewhere, you couldn’t imagine her reaction if she saw you rushing towards her nephew’s room in a long dress and in heels. 

You carefully knocked on his bedroom door, announcing your presence. “Y/N?” he asked and you hummed in response. “I’m in here,” he answered from the next room. As far as you can remember, that room was an empty one. You weren’t sure why Peter was in there but in times of emergencies like this one, you didn’t care. “Can I open the door?” you asked.

“Yes.”

You did not expect what you saw.

The room was dark as a result of the windows being covered. On the floor were littered little candles with your favorite scent lit up to light the room in a romantic manner. There was an area left for you to walk leading to the middle of the room, which had a space just enough for two people. You also noticed the petals of roses scattered on the floor as a string version of your favorite song started playing. 

A figure emerged from the shadows—Peter. He offered his hand for you to take and only then when he led you to the middle did the fire from the candles revealed his outfit. He was wearing a suit that perfectly matched the color of your dress. You didn’t know how he knew the exact color of your dress, you would ask him that later.

You were both speechless, neither knowing what to say. “Wow…” he breathed out. “How could a person look so beautiful? You are unreal.”

“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look handsome too.”

He held your hand and guided it towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it before holding each of your hands with both of his.

“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”

“You know I prepared a whole speech just for this moment,” he interrupted. “And then as soon as I saw you, I just forgot every single thing in the world because you’re the only one that matters.”

Tears were starting to gloss your eyes but before you could start crying from his sentiment, you asked him a question that has been vexing you for quite a while.

“What about Gwen?”

His face was quick to react to your question. His forehead scrunched up, looking at you as if to tell you if you could emphasize your question.

“I thought you were together. You were talking to each other pretty much the whole week. You were texting and calling each other, she was with you when you picked your suit, and then I saw her wink at you at the game.”

His face slowly dawned with realization. As soon as he realized what you were talking about, he couldn’t help but laugh. But upon seeing your worried face, he stopped laughing at once and looked straight into your eyes with absolute seriousness.

“Gwen and I are nothing more than just friends. We are not together. We’ve been talking to each other a lot because I asked her for help on how to surprise you. She also helped me pick the right suit so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with a lousy one. She winked at me at the game because she was excited that after the game ended, we would set up this surprise. And also because I was sitting next to you in the bleachers, she kinda saw me stare at you while you were busy watching the cheer routine. The wink was just her teasing and being excited. It doesn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you.”

“Shit. So I really just overthought the whole situation,” you chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t invalidate your feelings, It’s completely understandable. If I was you I’d think the same too.”

After a short moment of soft understanding silence, you felt him stiffen. His hands now held yours a little bit tighter. “Can I ask you a question?” he finally said.

“Let me guess, you want me to be your prom date?” you tried to ease the tension with the obvious question.

“Yes, and no.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want to take you to prom, yes. But that’s not the only thing I want. I want to take you on dates, I want to dance with you not just at events organized by the school, I want to buy you flowers, every day if I can; I want to watch scary movies with you and laugh when you’re too scared and you hide yourself with a pillow, I want to watch sad movies with you and bring you tissues and cuddle you the moment you cry, I want to watch romantic movies with you and cringe together when the characters do something embarrassing and wrap my arms around you when you blush at something sweet that they do. I want the tears, the pain, the frustration, the confusion, the sweetness, the laughter—everything. I want everything. With you.”

“Pete…”

“We’re seniors. Next year, we’re going to college. We will take on different paths and places, but before that even happens, I want you to be my place that’s never changing. And if you feel the same, I want to be your place that’s never changing too. You have been my best friend since we were kids, and I don’t want my memory of us to be just two people being friends since childhood,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. “I am in love with you, Y/N L/N. Would you be willing to enter a relationship that’s more than friends with me?”

Tears glossed over your eyes again, but this time, you let one fall. Peter was quick to wipe it with his hand. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not hold it against you. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not cross the line of being more than friends. Know that I will not force you into a relationship you do not want. Tell me if you don’t feel the same and I–”

“Yes,” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “The answer is yes. I am in love with you as well, Peter Parker. I have been for a long time.”

Peter smiled, now feeling his own tears try to escape his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. “May I dance with you?”

You chuckled but agreed, letting him guide you into position. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, your hands softly stroking the back of his neck while his hands were positioned at both sides of your waist. As the music still played in the background, you both started swaying.

“I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re gorgeous,” he commented. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit even matched my dress,” you said back.

“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”

“Wait–MJ is a part of this?” 

“Of course, she is. How’d you think I knew the color of your dress?”

You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with MJ when she asked you about the color of your dress. And then you also remembered that MJ was the reason why you were even inside Peter’s house right now in the first place. Peter called her and then she said that something was wrong with him and urged you to come here. Where was she even now anyways?

Peter laughed as he watched your face change from confusion to realization. “You know what–I’ll give it to y’all. You, Gwen, and MJ are good at this,” you admitted.

“The dressing up with our prom outfits and dancing was my idea though,” he spoke as he guided you into a spin. “I wanted our first dance to be private, not in a room filled with other students.”

You saw him glance at your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes. “I also want to do this,” he said as he leaned in closer and met your lips with his.

You’ve imagined this moment ever since your heart started beating for him. But still, the feeling of his lips against yours for real was better than what you’d imagined it to be. The kiss was soft but intimate, neither of you having a need to rush into things but at the same time making up for lost time pining over each other silently. You wished you could kiss him forever and stay like this but you eventually needed to pull away to breathe.

“So, you really thought I was in love with Gwen?” he teased while you were catching your breath.

“Way to ruin the moment,” you chuckled, lightly punching his arm before nodding.

“Shit. I really made you jealous?” he seemed really proud of what he had done from the way he was smirking.

“Are you happy?” you jokingly asked, rolling your eyes with fake annoyance.

“Am I happy? Of course, I am. I just kissed you.”

You couldn’t find the words to reply as you blushed harder than you’d ever blushed before. Instead, you just laughed out of blissful happiness.

For the first time ever, he saw you laugh without covering your face and it was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He couldn’t help but kiss you again.

Needless to say, the future was exciting.

If only he could tell you that he was Spider-Man.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST:  @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan

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[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part one // back at the beginning

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

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. all versions of peter are between the ages of 19-23 in this story. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 5.4k

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

The world seemed to slip out from under you, fracturing beneath your feet and leaving you to sink into a deep, dark hole.  

It was quiet—so unbearably quiet—and the tension between you and your estranged friends had become so thick that you feared it would soon take form and seep into your lungs. Maybe that would be for the best, you thought, wondering if suffocating on your collective grief would somehow be easier than whatever came next.  

“Aunt May…” You sputtered, unable to force the words out. Shaking your head, you asked, “Are you sure?”  

God, what a stupid question. You almost wanted to slap yourself for asking something so mindless.

Ned’s lips pressed into a thin line, trying to swallow his own sorrow. “I wish we weren’t,” he said with a small, wistful chuckle, still too shocked to fully acknowledge the gravity of it all. “But… yeah, we’re sure. She’s… She’s gone.”  

Your heart sank, unable to think of the right string of words to form a reply.  

With your mind reeling, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that this was some sort of cruel joke–the kind where the punchline would never quite hit. But all it took was one look at the red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks of Ned and Mj to know that they were telling the truth.  

She was dead—Aunt May was dead.  

And, somehow, it seemed as though that wasn’t even the worst part of the mess your friends had gotten themselves in.  

“I know that it’s a lot to take in all at once,” Ned started back up, perhaps noticing the way the color seemed to drain from your face. “If you need me to go back over it or explain anything then I can-”  

You stopped listening to him, staring blankly at the doormat beneath their feet. They hadn’t even bothered to come inside your apartment, too panicked to waste any time before delving into the details about Doctor Strange and the multiverse and other Spider-Man’s.  

But honestly, you didn’t care about any of that.  

You didn’t care about string theory or whatever multiversal villains had apparently slipped into your world—because you couldn’t stop thinking about what Ned had said about how May died. It hurt to think about it, the shrapnel and debris that had torn her flesh, the glider that had punctured her side and left her bleeding out in Peter’s arms…  

Aunt May had died a horrific and brutal death, and you weren’t sure that there would ever be any way for you to come to terms with that.  

“Peter,” you finally spoke, fire raging in your eyes as you looked at Ned. “Where is Peter?”  

He spared Mj a sidelong glance, as if silently asking for her permission to answer. Frustration began to prick your skin, crawling up your spine as your stare turned harsh, offended that he didn’t just tell you outright. You knew that things between the four of you hadn’t ended well, but this… 

Mj crossed her arms, looking almost as frustrated as you were with Ned’s choice to look to her for permission, and decided to answer in his place.  

“Downstairs,” she told you, her tone purposefully clipped as a way to show that the wounds sustained in the downfall of your friendship had not yet healed–and you didn’t care, because you knew that yours hadn’t either.  

“Is he…” you trailed off, not sure how to say it. If May’s death had been so brutal, then God knows what kind of injuries Peter might’ve sustained in the fight?  

But you didn’t have to speak, because whether the two of you liked it or not, you had been friends—and she always knew what you were thinking. “He’s safe,” she told you, quelling your nerves just a little. A reluctant sigh slipped her lips, shaking her head as she added, “But he’s not okay.”  

You knew what she meant—physically Peter had survived the fight with this Goblin man that they had told you about, but mentally…  

You understood why she was hesitant to tell you about it, too. Of the three of you, there was only one that had ever been able to delve down into the depths of Peter’s trauma and help him claw his way back out of the gnawing pit that threatened to consume him—and it wasn’t either of them.  

And, just as Mj knew you, you knew her. 

She didn’t want you around Peter, not anymore—and so if she was willingly telling you that he wasn’t okay, then it meant that she knew how much he truly needed you right now.  

“You guys should’ve told me sooner,” you grit your teeth, desperately trying to bite back against the resentment rising in your throat. “You should’ve told me as soon as all of this started, instead of waiting until everything went to shit.”  

It wasn’t your intention to sound bitter, but that didn’t stop you from coming across that way. Ned recoiled from your tone like a blow, but you didn’t have it in you to feel guilty right now.  

They had been dealing with all of this multiversal crisis bullshit for nearly a week now—and yet none of them had thought to say a single word to you until now. And while you knew that your presence likely wouldn’t have changed the course of events that had unfolded, it still hurt.  

And it still made you angry.  

“What do you need me to do?” You asked after realizing that neither of them intended to respond to your sharp statement.  

“Well,” Ned started, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms against his khakis, “it’s gonna take us some time to figure out where the villains are hiding, and even longer to work out what to do with them. And, since these other Peter’s have dealt with these guys before, we could really use their help…”  

He trailed off, once again looking to Mj, this time to silently urge her to finish his sentence.  

She rolled her eyes. “We need you to let them stay here.”  

Your brows furrowed, glancing between the two of them as if once again waiting for some sort of punchline to hit. It didn’t.  

“It might take us a bit–a few weeks, maybe—to find all of them and stop them. And now that Happy’s complex was literally blown to pieces, we don’t have anywhere for the two of them to stay while they help out.” Mj tried to explain. She looked defeated when she said, “We didn’t know who else we could go to that would actually understand.”  

Understand.  

If you weren’t still reeling from everything they had just told you, then you probably would have laughed at the word. You would hardly say that you understood what was going on—but you knew what she was getting.  

Mj’s dad would hardly allow two random men to stay in his house with them, and Ned’s Lola probably wasn’t too keen on the idea either. With Happy’s place destroyed, they had nowhere left to turn.  

You weren’t sure how to feel now that you knew they had only come to you because you were their last choice.  

At the risk of aggravating Mj, you said, “I wanna talk to Peter.”  

“I don’t know if now’s a good time,” Mj swiftly shot back. “I told you that’s he’s not okay—”  

“But he’s here,” you stated, nodding your head towards the stairs somewhere behind them that led back down to the lobby. “And you’re insane if you think I’m gonna agree to let two random ass men stay in my house without at least knowing what his plan is.”  

Mj bristled at the harshness of your tone; and so did you.  

You weren’t used to this.  

Mj had been your friend for far longer than she had been whatever she was to you now, and neither of you were used to this—to your once special connection being reduced to nothing more than strained conversations and fractured feelings towards one another.  

“Fine,” Mj surrendered, her hands lifting slightly. “Do whatever you want.”  

It wasn’t until then that you realized that you had been waiting for her permission, even though you didn’t believe you truly needed it. Peter was your friend—and he had been your friend long before he even knew Mj. If you wanted to talk to him, then you had every right to.  

Yet you still hadn’t been able to will yourself to push between the two of them until she had spoken, side-stepping to let you pass. When you started descending the stairs to the lobby, you were shocked that neither she nor Ned followed, offering you a sense of privacy with Peter that you hadn’t expected—as if she still held some shred of trust in you.  

You didn’t want to think about it though, unsure of how you felt about that, too.  

Halfway down the dank stairway of your complex, you felt a shiver dance along your spine. It prickled your skin and set your nerves on edge, but it didn’t catch you off guard. You always felt this way when Peter was around—as if your body could always sense when he was around, even when you hadn’t yet seen him.  

The last step creaked when you placed your weight onto it, and from across the poorly maintained lobby, Peter’s neck snapped in your direction at the sound.  

It felt like ice skittered across your bones at the sight of him, your heart lurching against your ribcage.  

You had gotten used to seeing Peter battered and bruised years ago. Even before he became Spider-Man, he often found himself the victim of bullies and assholes, rarely going more than a few weeks without a busted lip or a new bruise. But this…  

This was different, somehow.  

It wasn’t just the blood-stained suit that set your heart racing, nor was it the lacerated skin or his sweat-matted hair. No, those things were normal—in the same way that being bitten by a radioactive spider was normal.  

It was even normal to see him standing before you, his chin high and shoulders back, presenting a perfect image of strength even after experiencing something as traumatic as losing May.  

Peter’s relationship with trauma had been intimate enough these past few years that you weren’t shocked to see him like this, standing tall rather than balling up and crying on the floor. You figured that was what most others would do if they were in his situation.  

But Peter wasn’t like other people.  

Peter was a hero—and if you had learned anything about heroes in your lifetime, it was that they were incredible liars.  

His eyes couldn't lie, though.

Bloodshot and ringed with exhaustion, his eyes were what had made you feel so sick, your stomach twisting itself into knots.  

They lacked the life and hope of the boy you had loved so dearly, replaced with something like rage—a pure, unbridled and unrelenting type of rage. Looking at him now you couldn’t ignore the burning talon that seemed to rake against your mind, filling your brain with thoughts you didn’t want to think right now—telling you that looking at Peter now, with the light draining from his eyes, was the same as looking in a mirror.  

“Peter,” a metallic tang danced on your tongue as you dug your teeth into your cheek, biting back against the tears threatening to well-up in your eyes.  

Letting your instincts guide you, you rushed across the lobby to where he stood by the front door, reaching for his hand without a second thought.  

His suit had been torn along his palm, and as you felt the warmth radiating from his calloused skin, you tried to take some comfort in the fact that at least he had survived—even if you still weren’t ready to accept that May hadn’t.  

“Don’t,” He yanked his hand back from you, his voice hoarse. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”  

You froze for half a heartbeat, your hand hanging awkwardly in-between the two of you. “I wasn’t going to.”  

You weren’t sure if you were telling the truth, but it didn’t seem to matter either way.  

Either way, you tried to understand his reaction, even as you winced from the sting of rejection. What good would an apology really do for a boy who had already lost everything?  

It wouldn’t bring the light back to his eyes.  

It wouldn’t bring May back to life.  

“Ned told me everything,” you told him, unwilling or unable to say Mj’s name right now. You clenched and unclenched your fists, painfully aware of the absence of his warmth. “You know I’ll do anything I can to help, so just tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it.”  

Peter scoffed, his jaw tensing. “We both know that what I want doesn’t matter,” he said bluntly. Motioning to your surroundings, he continued, “If what I wanted mattered, then we wouldn’t even be here. We wouldn’t be asking for your help—wouldn’t be dragging another person into this and asking them to risk their life!”  

You did your best not to react, knowing that he hadn’t meant it quite as bad as it sounded. It already hurt knowing that you had been Mj and Ned’s last choice for help, but knowing that Peter didn’t want you to be a choice at all hurt far worse—even if it was to keep you safe.  

“Well, you’re here now,” you told him, keeping your voice steady. “So you might as well tell me what your plan is—or at least tell me how long I’ll need to play bunkmates with strangers.”  

You were lying when you had told Mj and Ned that you needed to talk to Peter before agreeing to let the alternate Spider-Men stay in your apartment—you didn’t care about housing with strangers, aware that there was nothing they could do to you that you haven't endured before.  

Selfishly, you had just wanted a reason to come down and talk to him. To see him. To know that he was alive. You didn’t care about anything else.  

Sometimes you worried that you didn’t even care about your own life, only Peter’s.  

But Peter cared about your life—far more than you would ever want him to.  

“My plan doesn’t matter,” he said, his tone clipped, “cause I don’t want you getting involved. And I definitely don’t want you to let those guys stay here, alright? We don’t know them.”  

You steeled yourself, resisting the urge to argue with him and instead asking a simple question. “Do you have anywhere else for them to go?”  

He didn’t respond, huffing out a breath, already frustrated with the defiance he knew you were about to display.  

“You might not want my help, but if Ned’s right–” you told him, gesturing backwards towards the staircase, “–which he usually is—then you’re gonna need these guys.”  

“But that doesn’t mean we need you,” Peter protested gruffly.  

Your chest tightened, but you kept shoving back against the hurt. Later, you would deal with that later.  

“It doesn’t matter if you need me,” you retorted with a defiant tilt of your chin, unwavering as his rageful gaze seemed to pierce through your skull, “because you’re stuck with me either way.”  

You hadn’t expected the statement to affect him, but it did, his voice softening slightly. “I always have been.”  

“Exactly. So you might as well make this easy on the both of us and not fight me on it,” you declared, trying to conjure up the most convincing smile you could offer. “Let me help, Peter.”  

A sigh slipped his lips, heavy with reluctant resignation as he realized he wasn’t winning this battle. “We’ve already lost so many people… I’ve lost so many people. And there’s already enough blood on my hands,” he said, lifting his hands to display the torn, blood-stained fabric, driving his point home. “It doesn’t matter what I say—so let them stay here or don’t, I don’t care. But just know that whatever happens to you, it’s not on me. Because I told you to stay out of it, alright?”  

He took a step closer, and you didn’t dare move a single muscle as his lips hovered just inches from your own. “Do whatever you want,” his voice was barely a whisper, laced with a venomous edge that nearly made you tremble, “but don’t expect me to come running to save you when it all goes to shit.”  

His words hung in the air like a curse, lingering in the lobby for far longer than he did. As soon as the promise had left his lips, he was already turning on his heel and shoving the door open, abandoning you in the dim space.  

You knew better than to think he meant it.  

But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.  

You stuck your hands beneath the running faucet, scrubbing the blood from a jagged cut on your palm. It wasn’t all that deep, shallow enough that it probably wouldn't even leave a scar once healed. When you were done rinsing it, you cupped your hands and gathered the water in them, splashing your reddened cheeks.  

Crying would have been a normal part of grieving for May, and when you forced yourself to look back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you couldn’t help but wish that you could’ve been a little more normal.  

But tears hadn’t been the cause of your flushed appearance—no, because you had never been very good at expressing the more delicate emotions, like sadness.  

You were good at expressing anger, though.  

You were very good at expressing anger.  

After Peter had stormed out of the lobby and abandoned you to choke on his cruel promise, it had taken you several minutes to work up the nerve to go back upstairs and face Mj and Ned. By some stroke of luck you had managed to keep a tight leash on your often volatile attitude, telling them your decision to let the other Peter’s stay with you.  

And then you lost control as soon as they left, loosening the reins on your anger and taking the uncomfortable feelings out on a nearby potted plant, shouting curses as you tossed it at the wall.  

By the time you thought to clean it up, after finishing another string of irate profanities, your hands had been shaking so bad that you cut yourself on one of the dirt-covered shards. And maybe, once you felt the jagged ceramic dig into your palm, you should’ve hissed or cursed more or stopped cleaning to patch yourself up.  

But you didn’t. You stayed quiet, continuing to pluck the shattered fragments off the floor until you had gotten them all, dumping them into the trash before grabbing the broom and dustpan and cleaning the dirt and scattered leaves, too.  

There were more important things to deal with than cleaning a dirty wound.  

Like making sure none of your friends could see that you weren’t nearly as composed as you tried to seem.  

The familiar rhythmic rapping of Mj’s knuckles against the front door made you forgo the bandage you were going to fix to your palm, tossing the rag you’d used to dry your face into the sink and heading straight to the living room.  

Carefully shoving your injured hand into your pocket, you opened the door and tried not to look surprised when Peter wasn’t standing in-between Mj and Ned. Of course he hadn’t come with them—why would he? He had already made it clear how he felt about all of this.  

It did become significantly harder to mask your shock however when a tall, messy haired boy stepped into view from behind them, clad in a crimson and cobalt webbed suit.  

“Get inside,” you hissed a bit harsher than intended, stepping aside and waving the three of them into your apartment.  

The last thing you needed was your neighbors seeing an unmasked, alternate version of Spider-Man standing in front of your door. It had already been risky enough that Peter had come here in his suit, standing in the lobby and sticking out like a sore thumb.  

Once they were inside, you shut the door and turned to Ned. “I thought you said there were two of them,” you noted, avoiding looking at the lanky Spider-Man who seemed just as desperate to avoid you, busying himself with walking around the room and studying the art on the walls.  

Ned shrugged. “He didn’t wanna come.”  

“Not that he didn’t want to come,” Mj pointedly corrected him, frowning at his bluntness. “He just wanted to keep patrolling. The Goblin, the one who…” she cut herself off, unable to force the words off her tongue. Scrapping the sentence altogether, she started again, “The Goblin’s from his world, so he seemed to think that he had the best chance of hunting him down. But we gave him the address.”  

You didn’t bother giving her an actual response, a subtle nod the only sign you had heard her at all. She didn’t seem to care much, just as unsure of what to say to you as you were to her.  

“So,” Ned clicked his tongue, trying to cut through the growing tension. “This is Peter 3!” He announced, gesturing to the other Peter, who was picking up a frame that had been face down on an end table. “That’s what we’re calling him, at least. Y’know, to tell them apart. The other one is Peter 2.”  

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Creative.”  

Done dawdling over Ned and Mj, you forced yourself to look at the un-masked hero from another world. He was placing the frame back onto the table—not face down, as he had found it, but up-right. You frowned at the photograph it displayed, a picture of you, Ned, Mj, and Peter from sometime last year.  

“You’re awfully nosy,” you told him, your voice like ice.  

His muscles tensed, hesitating as he faced your gaze. “Sorry,”  

His voice was slightly deeper than Peter’s, his hair a shade or two darker, his features a bit less soft, but still noticeably young, putting him in his early twenties at most. Truthfully, if it weren’t for the suit he was wearing, you would’ve never guessed that he was supposed to be the Peter Parker of another world.  

You had expected him to be more… Peter-like, in appearance, and yet as far as you could tell the resemblances were very slight, if they even existed at all.  

The mannerisms were there, though. The subtleties of Peter Parker, the things that most people never noticed and yet were ingrained in your mind. He licked his lips, a nervous tic that left you always carrying chapstick in your pocket. His hands hung at his sides and you saw the way his thumb tapped against each of his fingers, starting with his index and ending with his pinky, only to start over again.  

Watching him, taking note of every familiar twitch and tic and habit, made something in your chest tighten.  

And, when you told him your name, it was as if your icy tone had melted altogether. “It’s nice to meet you.”  

For a moment you thought he wouldn’t respond, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly, eyes darting around the room. But then, suddenly, he gave you a weak smile. “You too.” A trace of amusement laced his response, too subtle for you to detect.  

“We’ve gotta go,” Ned suddenly spoke, jutting a thumb towards the door. “Peter’s waiting outside so he can make sure we get home safe, but-” he stopped, brows furrowing as considered whether he should finish. “But text us later, okay? Just to let us know that you’re okay.”  

Your heart stuttered at the mention of Peter’s name, at knowing that he actually had come—even if it hadn’t been for you—but you didn’t mention it.  

Instead, you focused on Ned, giving your sweet friend the kindest smile you could muster—which, admittedly, didn’t feel like much. Despite everything that had happened with your friends in the past few months, your fight had never been with Ned. He was just caught in the middle, unfairly forced to pick sides.  

And you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for picking Peter. Not when you knew that you would’ve done the same.  

“I will,” you promised.  

Ned gave you an equally somber smile before opening the door to leave. Even once Ned was in the hall, already descending the staircase, Mj lingered in the entryway—not for long, a heartbeat, maybe—turning back towards you just long enough to mutter, “Keep your guard up.”  

You didn’t have a chance to say anything back to her before she let the door slam shut, following quickly after Ned and leaving you alone with… this guy.  

The other Peter had abandoned his spot by the end table, seemingly done with investigating your apartment and left to do nothing but stand awkwardly a few feet away from you, clearly unsure of what to do or say now that it was just the two of you.  

“So,” you breathed out, popping your lips. “Peter 3, yeah? Good name. You go by that back home, too?”  

He laughed, a suit-clad hand nervously rising to the back of his neck. “Uh–yeah, no, definitely not. Just plain ole’ Peter Parker over there.”  

The nervous energy radiating from the boy almost seemed contagious as you started to pick at your nails. “Do you have a nickname?”  

He blinked, looking as if he hadn’t heard a word you said. “Sorry, what?”  

“A nickname,” you repeated, only for your brows to then furrow. “You have those where you’re from, don’t you? Nicknames? Like, you know, something you go by other than your actual name?”  

“Oh! Yes—sorry, yes we have nicknames in my world,” he exclaimed, his pale skin starting to flush.  

“I just thought that this whole numerical system thing that Ned’s going with to keep track of who’s who seems a little dehumanizing, yeah?”  

“For sure,” he agreed, sucking on his lip as he nodded along with you.  

You gave him a second, waiting and waiting for an answer to your apparently long-forgotten question, before asking, “So… Do you have one?”  

The slight blush that had tinged his skin instantly darkened, suddenly the same shade of crimson as his suit. His grip on the back of his neck tightened, too, his fingertips prodding into his own skin.  

“Sorry-” he apologized for the millionth time, more nervous laughter spilling out alongside it, “I do! I mean, sort of, I think. I don’t know if it’s really a nickname, but back in my world you really just called me by my last name most of the time anyway, so–I don’t know—maybe that would work?”  

The sheer quantity of word vomit spewing from his mouth was impressive and likely hard-to-follow for most, but you consider yourself a bit of an expert in the anxious ramblings of Peter Parker.  

“In your world?” You echoed, instantly catching the subtle mention. “We know each other?”  

Maybe it shouldn’t have been shocking to learn that there were other versions of you throughout the multiverse as well, and yet it was. You figured that it was plausible, of course, considering that two variations of Peter had just been thrown into your world, but for some reason it just didn’t feel right.  

You reasoned that anyone would feel that way, though.  

“Yeah,” the boy, Parker, answered, a bit clipped. “We do.”  

“Interesting.” Your brows lifted, “Are we friends?”  

Parker scrunched his nose, his head tilting slightly.  

“Yeah,” his voice was an octave higher than before, and if you knew him better, then you likely would’ve called him on the obvious tell. But you didn’t know him, and so you didn’t say anything when he decided to double-down on the lie, “Yeah, we’re friends.”  

“Well I guess that means that this is just as weird for you as it is for me, then.” You laughed, trying to add some humor to the situation.  

Parker gave a tightlipped smile. “Definitely weird.”  

The seconds felt like they stretched into minutes after that, silently racking your brain for something to say, hoping that he might say something—but, eventually, you settled on offering an escape from the situation instead.  

“You’re probably exhausted from the whole multiversal travel thing, so if you want, I can just show you the guest room and give you some privacy or something,” you told him, vaguely gesturing towards the hallway.  

Parker seemed to relax a bit at the prospect of being alone, loosing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Uhm–yeah, that’d be great, actually.”  

He followed you down the short hall, his hand finally falling from his neck and his skin returning to its normal complexion as his nerves began to wane.  

“This is it,” you told him, the hinges crying out as you shoved the door open. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere to sleep, at least.”  

Wasn’t much felt like an understatement, though the room was typical for a New York apartment.  

A tad bigger than your average shoebox, there was just enough space to fit a full-sized bed, a small armoire, and a single nightstand adorned with an old desk lamp and a little pink teddy bear—a gift from Peter, years ago.  

Parker walked into the room, looking around and brushing his fingertips against the emerald quilt. It was a bit old and somewhat thin, but it was better than nothing you supposed, and Parker certainly didn’t seem like he was going to complain about it.  

“It’s great,” he assured you, and even though he did sound genuine, you couldn’t help but snort. He looked over at where you still stood in the doorway, giving you a timid smile as he said, “Way better than sleeping on the streets.”  

You returned the gesture, lazily lifting a shoulder. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning. That mattress is about a hundred years old, so it’s probably the equivalent of sleeping on really lumpy cement.”  

Parker hummed his amusement, carefully perching on the edge of the bed, his smile seeming to deepen when he caught sight of the little bear on the nightstand.  

“I guess I’ll let you get some sleep,” you told him, reaching for the door handle, “if you need anything—extra blankets, or something—just let me know; my room’s right across the hall.”  

He muttered his thanks, but as you went to pull the door closed, you heard your name fall from his lips. It was strange sounding, strangled and foreign, like he didn’t quite know how to say it. When you turned back to face him, a subtle wince seemed to etch across his face.  

“Can I… Can I ask you something?” Parker stammered out the question, his voice faltering like a candle flame in the wind.  

You nodded once, fingers still wrapped around the knob, savoring the coolness of the brass against the now-clotted wound on your palm.

He took a breath, his gaze momentarily flickering back to the teddy bear on the nightstand. His thoughts felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to force them out of his mouth, “Are you happy?”  

You blinked at him, unsure of what to make of the hope that seemed to cling to each syllable and half-wondering if you’d heard him right.  

“I-” you tried to start, only to realize that you had no clue what to say.  

There was a fleeting moment where you realized that you could tell him the truth. You could tell him that happiness felt like a distant shore far from your reach, forever obscured by the fiery tempest of a brutal and ancient rage—a rage that, sometimes, didn’t even feel like your own.  

But then he looked at you with those big, expectant eyes; eyes that should have been foreign to you, and yet felt so familiar—and you realized that he wouldn’t like that answer.  

Sucking in a breath, you evaded his question as best you could. “Ask me again when all of this is over,” you told him, your lips curving into a soft, playful arc, “and maybe I’ll tell you the truth.”  

This time when you went to close the door, he didn’t stop you.  

series masterlist

a/n - i wish that i could properly express just how amazing (and terrifying) it has been to rewrite this story. first created at quite possibly the lowest point of my life, infinitely you has provided me with a necessary escape at a time when i desperately needed it. now that i'm in a better position, i found it necessary to give it the plot, writing style, and dedication that it deserved. i'm aware some people might not be interested in a rewrite and that's ok, but for those that are i just wanna say: thank you, thank you, thank you for giving infinitely you (and me) another shot. you're incredible.

if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, just let me know! as of right now, chapters will be posted every other monday, though i may switch that to weekly soon!

part two, titled "crullers & constants", to be released april 1st

#peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #no way home imagine #no way home #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagines #tasm fanfiction #tasm imagine #andrew!peter imagine #tobey!peter imagine #tom!peter imagine #tom!peter x reader #tobey!peter x reader #andrew!peter x reader #mcu x reader #dark peter parker #peter parker headcanons #peter parker fan fiction #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #spiderman fic #spiderman fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #tobey maguire #andrew garfield #tom holland #infinitely you

[shawnxstyles]

the only one

DATE: JANUARY 2, 2024

summary: you go on your first date with peter, and it ends even better than you could have ever expected. ;)

request: yes!

words: 6.3k

warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [oral, fingering, multiple orgasms], protected sex, dirty talk), language, and the most gentlemanly man.

note: i cannot believe i’m finally writing another gyno!peter after all this time… anyway, this is NOT an actual series, simply just more situations/scenes of these two together!

gynecologist!peter x patient!y/n

–

Every date that you’ve been on in the past never made you this nervous. You didn’t spend two hours just deciding on what to wear and taking an extra hour to prepare yourself. You worked for a fashion magazine, editing and reviewing comments and critiques. You were surrounded by clothes and creativity all day, but struggled to pick a “first-date look” from your closet. You swore you read something about that before…

You never thought first dates were anything more than a simple introduction, a first impression of another human being. It was one of the foundations of the question, “Could I get along well enough with this person to go on a second date?”.

You had only been on two first dates: one with your ex, who you were with for four months, and recently with that guy from your work. The second one was mainly just a hook-up, and the first one obviously led to some type of relationship that didn’t work out in the end. Maybe you didn’t have enough experience in the dating world to be wondering if the amount of nerves you had right now was healthy.

Your hands were clammy as you strapped on your black heels. You noticed you were swallowing more frequently than normal, and you didn’t understand why. When you looked in the mirror, your hands flattened out your black dress more times than you could count, ridding wrinkles that aren’t even there.

After your appointment a few weeks ago, you had texted Peter. More specifically, you texted him the next day. Immediately after simply saying hello and your name, you thought of how many other people he may have given his phone number to. Or worse, how many people he had fingered in his office… You started worrying if you shouldn’t have texted him at all because he was a doctor. He was probably too busy for anything. It was just a nice gesture, maybe?

But an hour later, in the evening, he had texted you back with a short apology. He was working a little past the clock in order to get more doctor stuff done. Even his texts were sweet with a dab of charm. How do women control themselves around him?

Or maybe it was just you, and you were a fucking weirdo.

Yeah it could be that.

Peter and you went on to texting every now and then to texting daily. Texting him was something to look forward to after a long day at work. It also became pretty clear that he wasn’t texting anyone else because well, he was working throughout the day doing doctor stuff while you were doing editor stuff. He would even text you during his lunch break and that always made your heart skip to see his message in the middle of the day.

One night in particular, you were complaining to Peter (yes, you had gotten to the point where you could complain about little inconveniences) about your sink malfunctioning. Instead of asking you to send pictures of the pipes under the sink, he had you FaceTime him. It was the first time you guys have ever called and the second time you’ve ever seen his face, so your heart was a little race-y. But when that charming, wide grin flashed on your screen, he easily slipped into conversation. Peter helped you fix your sink with a little wrench movement along with replacing a broken screw through the phone.

It wasn’t awkward. It was relieving.

You didn’t have to force a certain personality in order to engage in a conversation with him. You felt more yourself than you ever have when talking to him, flowing easily like two streams into one. You hadn’t even realized how late it was by the time you guys ended the call until he was gone. The serenity of your place felt a little more emptier than usual without the sound of his beautiful accent from your speaker. It was nearly midnight by the time you went to bed, wondering how things would be if you and Peter took your friendship a bit further.

Would talking always be this simple? Would he always be this charming?

After that night, you would make excuses to call him. He never denied you, even after he told you he had a long day at the hospital. You guys were not only texting now, but calling daily. You would get excited for his texts and calls, looking forward to talking to him. That’s when you realized you wanted more with him. It felt like you knew each other forever, but it had merely been a few weeks. You wanted to go on a date with him, wanted to be with him in person again. And of course, your mind wandered to the thought of how he is in bed.

If he was that good with just his quick fingers, then how good was he with more space and time? You began to dream about it.

Then he finally asked you. It was so sudden, you honestly didn’t expect it.

You were debriefing your plans for the week and what you had to do at work.

“Sometimes, I feel like my life is on repeat,” You chuckle, but it sounds tired.

“You’re always doing the same thing every week?” Peter questions. He found that he loves just listening to you talk for hours about whatever. He prompts you with questions, and you always answer thoroughly. It’s like an unspoken routine for you two.

“I mean, it feels like that. I never have time to go out and do anything. And when I do, I don’t go out,” You half-smile to yourself as you look down at your lap. You sounded kind of lame, so you were trying not to cringe at yourself.

“You told me your agenda for this week, but what about Saturday and Sunday?”

“Oh, well, you know I don’t work on the weekends. Sometimes, I get extra stuff done at home, but only because I’m bored. I watch TV…” You squint your eyes, trying to think of things you do on the weekend when you’re not busy. “You know, I’m listening to what I’m saying, and I am so lame. God, I need a life outside of work.”

“You’re not lame. Just busy. Give yourself some credit,” he waves off your dig at yourself, and you don’t stop yourself from smiling. He’s just too nice. You can’t take your eyes off him through the small screen as he watches you back.

“Yeah, yeah. Enough about me. What are your weekend plans?” You definitely talk too much, so you always attempt to ask him questions back.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you out,” he very casually says, nonchalantly staring at you through the camera. “Unless you’re busy watching TV.”

“W-What?” Heat crawled up your neck and ears, skin flaming off of his quick words. He’s always charming and always confident with you, so why are you surprised he’s this smooth? You wonder if he’s been thinking about it for a while or if he just got the idea randomly. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Unless you don’t want to. In that case, I am joking…”

“I want to, Peter,” You smile with the words. It feels impossible to lower your cheek muscles because of the giddiness coursing through you. “If I’m honest, I’ve kind of been waiting for you to ask me.”

“I was a little slow, yeah?”

“Yeah, both the turtle and the hare beat you to the finish line,” His wonderful laugh echoes through the speaker of your phone, and it fills you with warmth.

While other people have belittled you and forced you to be one way, Peter naturally allows you to be yourself. Your wit flourishes, and your insecurities fade into unique parts of you. Whether you two are friends or more, you need more people like Peter in your life.

After you two had confirmed the plans for Saturday, you two both went to bed when the call ended. When your head hits the pillow, it’s instantly filled with scenarios of you and Peter. Mostly how your first date might go. Is he the type to pull out a chair for you? Definitely. Would he pay without a second glance? Probably, knowing he has that doctor paycheck. Would he kiss you after walking you back to your door? Maybe, maybe not.

But he did finger-fuck you in his office, so nothing is really that impossible.

So, you let your mind wander for the rest of the night while you sleep peacefully. Yes, you had some great dreams.

–

Instead of texting you that he’s here, Peter knocks on your door. The sound itself made your heart accelerate instantly as you stride quickly to answer it. You’ve been overthinking all the ways that this day could go bad, seriously hoping that it doesn’t.

“Hey,” Peter says, clearly eyeing you up and down. He sounds slightly breathless, but not as if he just ran to your door. No, more like he’s speechless. But you could just be overanalyzing every little detail.

“Hey,” As you repeat the word back, you’re both silent for a second. It’s not awkward as it is tense. You’re both just observing and taking in the appearance of the other, appreciating the time and effort in the looks. Peter’s wearing a navy button-up with black slacks. The first two buttons are undone, giving you a peek at his seemingly smooth chest. He’s not wearing a jacket, so you get a view of his arms. From the way the rich fabric stretches around his muscles, it’s obvious that he works out. He just keeps getting better. He continues to check more of your boxes. “Let me just go grab my purse really quick.”

You snatch your bag off of the coffee table after checking you have everything. What if his one flaw is that he won’t pay for at least half the dinner? You must prepare for all the possible outcomes.

“You look brilliant,” You can see him swallow before his compliment, and you wonder if he’s as nervous as you are. He never makes it a point to look even the slightest bit unsure, which you admire. He’s very charming, which takes a lot of confidence, and he’s very good at it. When he asked you out in his office, you saw that persona slip just a tad, enough for you to see that he is human and that he gets nervous too. You found him adorable. You still do.

“You as well,” You blush as you shut the door behind you. The two of you walk to his car, and of course, he opens the door for you. You can’t stop blushing. “Seriously, how do you make such a simple outfit look so good?”

“Unbutton it,” he answers before gently shutting your door closed. Your mind instantly went to places that it shouldn’t have, making your skin burn. You thought about unbuttoning his shirt slowly and sensually until it fell down his bulky arms. You thought about unbuttoning his slacks and palming his cock. He would be so hard for you, and you didn’t hesitate to get on your knees. God, you wished it was real because you truly would not hesitate for this man.

You shake your head, attempting to rid yourself of those dirty thoughts, so you can have a peaceful date. A first date with Peter.

–

When you guys get to the restaurant, that small voice in the back of your head expects it to be awkward the second you sit down. But once again, you were proven incorrect.

Peter instantly engages in a smooth conversation, asking how your week was overall. You told him all about work and the papers you’re reviewing, and he told you about some of his patients. Every time he mentions anything doctor related, it just makes you swoon. It’s impressive how intelligent he is, and even more so how hard he works. It’s obvious he loves what he does, and you never realized that loving one’s passion was a must-have in your partner checklist.

You also just love the way he talks. His accent makes your skin hot and your spine tingle. Your mind wanders to places it shouldn’t more often than not. And his gaze never leaves yours, only when talking to the waiter when ordering.

There is never a dull moment. Even as you were patiently waiting for your food, you still found things to talk about.

“What do you think they’re celebrating?” he asks, observing two people in the back corner with smiles on their faces.

“They’re dressed nicely, and they’re holding hands too much to be together for that long. I’m going to guess the three or four month anniversary.”

“What about them?” he nudges his head in the direction of the people not too far from you two, sitting with straight faces.

“Oh, they’re not celebrating. Probably breaking up.”

“Who goes to such a nice restaurant for a break-up?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like rich people problems to me,” You joke, and you both share a chuckle. It feels nice to casually chat and people watch with somebody else. When your food arrives, you both eat with more adding silence, slipping in words slowly.

“Did I tell you you look really good tonight?” Peter changes the topic, eyes fixating back onto you.

“Yes… Thank you,” You feel yourself blushing all over your body. You use your napkin to wipe your lips, but you’re really using it to protect your face. It was so obvious what his words did to you, that’s probably why he said them. Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot, even just in your dress. “Took me a while to find out what to wear.”

“You could have worn a garbage bag and still looked great,” Peter says, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Oh, stop it. You’re such a charmer. What’s your game? What do you want?” Your words are playful, but the look in Peter’s eye seems more serious. More powerful and heated. Eyes you haven’t seen for a long time in another person, and it freezes you still. The only thing that’s countering the lust circling his irises is the uprising smirk on his lips.

“To take you home.”

Boy, was he a charmer.

“Don’t ask if I’m kidding because I’m not,” he adds, setting down his napkin on the table. He leans over, a curl falling onto his forehead. A hand reaches halfway across the white cloth and rests delicately on your hand. Even his touch was warm and soft, not forceful in any way. “If you want, I’d like to.”

“I…” You were speechless. You knew what your answer would be, but you were just starstruck. How can one person be so gentlemanly yet hot? Cocky yet so sweet? God really didn’t give anyone a chance when making Peter. “Yes, I would like that a lot.”

Your thumb rubs reassuring circles on his thumb while you smile like a fool. Peter’s smirk only got bigger as the night went on.

–

You talked. You laughed. You smiled.

But as he drove you to his house, you got nervous again. Maybe you guys would do something as normal as watch a movie. Maybe even cuddle a bit. But you really, really hoped it was more. Especially after your first meeting, you knew Peter wasn’t too shy about sexual matters. However, maybe he didn’t want to do that with you yet and just wanted to take things slow.

But his office…

When his hand was on yours on the table, your memory was brought back right to the moment of his fingers inside of you in the chair. You remembered the feeling of him pushing his digit in and out repeatedly and how good it felt when he removed his latex gloves. Your core rumbled with lust, getting off on the mere fantasy of it all.

When you arrive at his house, you both silently get out of the car. Besides the sound of nature, you could only hear your racing heart and how it was racking against your ribcage in intense beats. He unlocks his door, keying jingling while the breeze flows past. You’re hyper-aware of every noise as if Peter could hear your choppy breath. When he finally opens the door, he lets you in first and you smile, trying to not let your obvious nerves surface.

But you clearly fail when he points it out.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Your eyes lock on his hands as he rests his key on his door side table and feet as he casually slips off his dress shoes. Everything about him was mesmerizing. You swear you could just watch a documentary of a regular day in his life and you could be starry-eyed.

“Bunch of things.” But it was really just one thing.

“Care to share?” Peter shifts to the kitchen and you follow him like a helpless dog, clutching your bag for dear life.

“I keep thinking about…the last time we were together,” the words fall from your mouth as you round the counter. You felt like you needed to create some distance between you two if you were going to admit something like that.

“What about it?” Peter’s knack to ask questions right now is making your face burn from embarrassment under his bright kitchen lights. He grabs two glasses and fills them up with fridge water without even asking if you wanted some.

“You know, the fun part,” You round the counter to reach the water, slowly taking a sip. When you set the glass down, your eyes don’t leave his chest. You’re too afraid to look into his eyes.

“I thought it was all pretty fun,” he says, placing down his own glass and taking one large step towards you “Especially the part where you came all over my hand.”

Your skin flames, eyes peering at him for a moment before dashing away. His finger slides beneath your chin to turn your face back to him. He could feel your radiating heat and could see the widening of your pupils under the luminous lights.

“Were you thinking of that?” His finger directs your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him. His voice was low and husky, only for you to hear. “Because I haven’t stopped since the day I walked out of that room.”

“Peter…”

“Just say the word, honey, and I’ll kiss you right now.”

You could just melt into a puddle on the floor of his kitchen. His words are so sensual, there is no way you could ever say no to this man. He’s irresistible without trying too hard.

“Please,” You mustered out seemingly breathless while your eyes were locked into his surely.

He doesn’t miss the beat. His head turns as his lips crash against yours. Your lower back hits the island of the counter of marble, but you don’t flinch. His lips electrocute yours, sending jolts of energy coursing through your body like a shock. Your hands naturally find his neat yet messy styled hair on his nape, fingers rummaging through the curly ends. One of his hands holds your waist down from moving as if he already knows you’re antsy to grind on him. His other caresses your jaw in a stable position, the type of dominance you’ve been craving since that day in his office.

His hand goes underneath your thigh, leading you to wrapping your legs around his waist. You thought he was going to sit you on the counter, but he walked all the way to a bedroom without breaking the kiss.

Peter gently lays you on the bed, causing you to depart from the kiss. He wordlessly goes to unbutton his shirt, but you quickly sit up to do it. You’ve been thinking about doing it since he picked you up, so it only seems right that your fantasy comes true, right?

Just like you imagined, you slowly flicked off the buttons and delicately removed the fabric until it was a bundle of cloth on the floor. On the edge of the bed on your knees, you stare up at Peter with a lustful glint in your eye. That glowy look caused Peter to kiss you again, hungrier than before. His force makes you fall onto the mattress again, making you gasp. He trails down your neck in sloppy kisses, touching every inch of your neck and chest with his lips.

“Where did you get this dress?” You didn’t expect him to ask you that while he was groping your breasts through the material. You moan at the feeling of his rough thumbs on your nipples. It’s very distracting while you try to remember where you got the dress that is currently in the way.

“Um Zara? I-I don’t remember,” You moan loudly, not having time to conceal it as he suckles a mark on your neck.

“Do you like it?”

“What?”

“The dress.”

“S-Sure, yeah. It’s-It’s not my favorite, though,” His tousled hair tickles your face as he gets closer to your boobs.

“Maybe you should have worn a garbage bag.”

“Why?” You pull back a little, moving his head up so you can see his face. You thought maybe you would see some expression of disgust, but he only has pure enjoyment. His soft smile turns into a smirk that you’re growing really fond of. It means he’s about to do something hot.

“Because then I wouldn’t feel so bad about ripping it off of you.”

Just like that, the thin straps are easily snapped from his large hands while he yanks the long dress down your body and onto the floor. His mouth instantly went onto your nipple, sucking until he was satisfied with the raw peak of it. He repeated the same movement the opposite one until you were a panting mess, huffing and puffing from just his mouth on your chest.

You can tell he knows how to do this. Yes, he works in gynecology so it’s a benefit that he knows the female body inside and out. But he’s actually skilled in his technique. Although he is hungry and nearly primal, he takes his time with certain areas, making your body want him more and more each time. It’s incredibly smart, and you’re wondering why every man doesn’t know how to properly treat a woman.

You don’t even know your body the way he seems to know it.

His mouth is at your panties before you could even process it. Right when you think he’s about to widen your legs like you so desperately want him to, he stops when his hands rest on your knees gently. He had been going at a fast pace, but now, he’s slow and controlled. Taunting in a way. Torturing.

“I’m going to remove these now, yeah?” He knows you want it now because he has you in his bed right where you want to be. His tone is not as shy as it had been in the office. It’s more controlling yet still soft. “Words, Y/N.”

That demand was all too similar to his words back in the chair with his hands on your waist. He was about to pull off your underwear then for professional reasons, and now, he’s going to yank them off for selfish ones.

“Please take them off,” Just like you had then, you clenched around nothing. Just his sensual words that make you spiral into horny oblivion. Your wavering tone makes him smile as he tugs down the thin material from your legs, tossing them somewhere in the room.

Then he finally widens your legs, facing your aching pussy that hasn’t forgotten about him since all those weeks ago. You were throbbing and leaking to the damn bed sheets, but you couldn’t give a fuck less. You wanted his fingers, his mouth, his cock–anything that he was willing to give you.

“That day,” he starts, “I really wanted to taste you. You were dripping all over my fingers. It was so hard to stay professional.”

He leans down and gets really close to your cunt, inches away from doing what he really wants to do.

“You’ll let me taste you, right?” he asks in an innocent kind of way, but there’s hints of taunt in there. It makes your core burn, and you almost moan at the way his breath hits your center.

“Yes, please. Do whatever you want,” You say that because it’s true–he can do whatever he wants to you, and you would be grateful.

“So polite. So eager,” he kisses your thigh, dangerously close to you now, “And so, so wet.”

“Peter, please,” You were begging now, but you didn’t care. You would beg all night for Peter to touch you the way he did in his office. You’ve tried to replicate it, but it’s no use. You’ve been craving that feeling for weeks now, and he seems to be the only one who can get you there.

“So polite. Good girl.”

To your luck, he doesn’t say another word. He finally puts his mouth on your pussy by slurping up all of your juices. You immediately moan, just by the mere knowledge that his mouth is on you. His tongue slips through your folds all the way up to your clit. Peter suckles on it, feeling it throb in his mouth.

“Taste even better than I imagined,” You don’t know if his whispered words were meant to be heard by you, but you heard them. They caused you to clench right as his tongue slotted inside of you, desperate to taste more of you.

His large hands are pressed against the insides of your thighs, forcing you to stay spread for him. You can feel them ache, but nothing feels as prominent as his tongue inside of you. And then, just when it starts to feel good, he makes it feel even better. One of his digits finds your clit, circling pressure until you’re a moaning mess.

“Fuck, Peter. That’s… so good.”

His mouth pops off of you for a second to catch a breath. But he could honestly drown in the taste of you. He smoothly slides a finger to replace where his mouth was, filling you up just like in his office. Now, his mouth is sucking on your clit, needing to make it throb. You feel that feeling you’ve been chasing for the past few weeks building up in your stomach, and you know it’s not going to be long at all until you achieve it.

“Come. Show me what only I can make you do,” Peter grumbles, his words cascading over your body. The deep rumble of his voice tips you over the edge, causing you to come all over his fingers again. After cleaning up some of your orgasm, he lifts his mouth, but doesn’t remove his fingers. He continues to pump them in and out, even though you’re sensitive.

“So fuckin’ tight, and I haven’t even given you a second finger,” one of his fingers taps of your clit, causing you to gasp at how sensitive you are. “Can you give me another?”

“A-Another one?” You’re panting and sweating from just one, but he wants to give you another? Who is this man, and where has he been all your life? “I can’t.”

“Oh, but you can. The body is an amazing thing,” he inserts another finger into your cunt and increases his intensity on your nerves. You gasp again, moaning without caring how loud you are. “See, your clit makes you do that. And I love that.”

“Oh, Peter,” You helplessly whimpered. As he thrusts his fingers inside of you with that charming smile and a hint of a smirk, you already feel your high approaching you again. The sight and the feel of him was just too overwhelming. With each thrust of his fingers, his arms bulged, forearm veins popping deliciously. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“C’mon, baby. Give me another. Want to feel you clench around my fingers. Imagine it’s my cock. Imagine how big my cock is going to feel in your little, tight cunt.”

His words oozed sex. So it only made sense that you came not long after. Your release coated his skilled hand once again, and this time, he seemed satisfied with your two orgasms.

When you could finally catch your breath, you didn’t see him reaching for his belt like most men do. But you really, really wanted him to reach for his belt.

“Are you tired? How do you feel?” The tone in his voice was soft. He was easily able to change from sex Peter to caring Peter. Your heart melted at his concern.

“Tired, but good tired. I’ve only ever had three orgasms, and you just gave me two of them,” You laughed breathlessly while he chuckled. “Would I be selfish to ask for more?”

That made him laugh. It was wholehearted and deep, echoing throughout the room. “Not at all.”

And then he reaches for his belt. You feel your organs twist in that lustful, horny way that they do when he does anything. When all his clothes are discarded and you’re faced with his raging cock, you’re practically drooling. He was right when he said he was big; thick and veiny all along the sides. It seemed unfair, really.

He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom, ripping it and rolling it on easily. You continue to watch him in awe as he strokes himself a few times over the condom. Truth be told, he’s already incredibly hard. The second he slips inside of you he fears he will come on the spot because of how tight you are.

But he leans over your body, elbows holding himself up. You can smell his fresh scent, full of pine and wood.

“Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?” he whispers next to your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin, which gives you the shivers. Your hands trail up over his body until they’re resting on his broad shoulders. You can feel his tensed muscles working to hold him up right, even though it looks like an effortless task to him.

“Oh shush. But thank you,” His comment makes your face warm, like a candle right next to your cheek.

“You look especially pretty under me,” his cock brushes your cunt, sliding delicately through the folds. You’re not shy of gasping, trying to mentally prepare yourself for his impeccable size.

When he finally pushes the head in, you take a deep breath and release it in a small whimper. You know you’re tight because you haven’t been with anyone in a few weeks. The most you’ve taken are Peter’s fingers, which are nothing compared to his cock.

He waits a few moments before moving again, giving you time to adjust. But you don’t think you’ll ever be able to fully settle with his size. It seems like he’ll always be stretching you out, no matter how many times you take him.

“Breathe, baby,” his words are breathy and wavering, but so sweet. The small nickname gives you the butterflies you haven’t felt for a while. Not the nervous butterflies, but that tingling, excited feeling of fondness. It’s one of your favorite feelings, and you’re so glad Peter gives you them.

You listen to him, taking deep breaths. He takes the opportunity to push himself a bit further until he’s fully inside of you. He stays still, looking at your face as you grow more comfortable. He watches as your expression contorts into desperation, which is what he’s been waiting for.

“You’re so tight, honey. But you’re taking all of me. Knew you could,” Peter reassures you, even as you clench snuggly around him. It’s embarrassingly hard for him to stay still, given how warm you feel wrapping him.

“Please move. Fuck, I need to feel you.”

Slowly, Peter removes himself and then slots in again. You remember to breathe as his movements become less languid and more fluidly quick. Soon, his thrusts have a bit of speed, causing you to scratch his shoulders at the intensity.

“You’re so big… so deep,” Your moan bounces off the walls of the room, making Peter smirk as he continues to move. His cock pins your hips, shutting down your squirming.

“No one’s ever fucked you like this? Never been this good, baby?” A small huff of his breath hit your skin and you were awed. His words alone could get you off, and then he’s pumping himself perfecting inside of you too, just making you go insane. He knows where all the right spots are, lifting up one of your legs with ease to get a better angle. You love that you can just let him take over you without having to work for your orgasm like you’re used to. You’re used to being on top, but it’s evident that Peter just wants to take care of you. He wants you to be satisfied for once, and you’ve never felt so seen. You’ve never felt so… good.

“Y-You’re the only one,” You sigh as you bite your lip, loving the way he's speaking to you. He’s all sultry in tone and even sexier with his words. You believe he has no flaws that are worth noticing.

“S’right. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good. You can only take my cock like this, deep in your cunt,” All you can do is moan and shake as you feel your next orgasm approaching.

Just when you go to reach down to your clit to push yourself even further, he reads your mind and does it for you. His thick finger circles the throbbing bud until you’re arching your back. Your fingers play with the pebbled nipples on your chest as your insides grow more tight. You haven’t had an orgasm feel this intense yet, so it’s hard to anticipate the feeling.

“Gonna come, baby? Come all over my cock, I need to see it. Need to know I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

With one entire pump inside of you, you’re coming over Peter’s cock and showing him that he’s the only one. All you can see is his charming, fatigued smile surrounded by stars. His brown hair is tousled and a dash of sweat is above his eyebrows, but God, he’s never looked so fucking hot.

It’s not long after that he’s coming after you, his release filling the condom completely. Peter was trying his best to hold himself for as long as possible. But with you, he discovered it was very difficult. Like he thought, the second he was inside of you, he could’ve come. You’re so slick and warm, just so alluring.

He gets up from the bed to discard the condom in done trash while you lay there in naked awe. You already know that you’re going to be sore tomorrow like the day after the gym.

As Peter comes back, he has a wipe that he uses to clean you up.

“What are you doing?” You ask before he starts to wipe you.

“Cleaning you up. You know, like aftercare. You can go to the bathroom and even take a bath if you’d like,” Peter answers while you sit straight up dumbfounded. “May I?”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead,” You allow him to soothingly clean you while you just accept it. Your mind is still whirling with confusion. Are all guys supposed to do this? Or is he really just that great? “Thank you. I… No one’s ever done that before.”

“Really? God, you were really with some twats, Y/N,” he shakes his head and walks back to the bathroom while you chuckle. It’s funny that you had to go through those two guys in order to get to Peter. Third time’s the charm. “Want to take a bath?”

You ponder for a second. You were tired, but not like you would drown in the tub. Maybe if you had better stamina you would ask Peter to join you, but for now, maybe you just need to sit and think about what’s happening alone. Peter is too good to be true. He’s such a gentleman, he never misses a beat. You hope you’re not overstepping by accepting.

“Can I? Or is it too much—”

“Nonsense, I want you to be comfortable. Now, do you like the right or left side of the bed?” You stare at him in confusion. One, because that was a random question. And two, because when did he put on boxers?

“What?”

“Which side do you sleep on?” You felt your cheeks burn for some reason, and then you realize you’re still naked while he’s semi-dressed.

“Um right, I think. Why?”

“So you can sleep there. You are staying, aren’t you?” Peter’s cheeks tint rosy red, that peek of nervousness shining through. It made you smile because even if he seems too good to be true, there is a little human in there who’s just like you.

“Yes, of course,” You can visibly see his tenseness fade as a small smile grows on his lips.

“I’ll start the bath then get you some clothes then, or else you’ll keep me hard all night.”

Your skin burns, but you feel like that’s not the last time that will happen to you. Not with Peter. No, you know.

—

thank you all for being patient!! i also think this is the longest taglist i’ve ever had, so thank you again!! 💞

taglist:

-> @motheroffae @noa217 @nelly-belly97 @spidermanffh3000 @httpscomexe @mysticdaisy21 @emilyparkerholland @deathst9r @ellenita98 @ellabellabus07 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @eatshitanddiee @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach @winuvs

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnstyles #tom holland #peter parker #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #tom holland x you #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland fan fics #peter parker fan fics #tom holland fan fiction #peter parker fan fiction

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Secret Admirer

Pairing: Peter Parker x Teen!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: jealousy, minor angst, mostly fluff

Summary: Peter always has to one-up you in everything he does. He always finishes a quiz before you. He gets better grades than you. It's infuriating. Then you catch him doing the one thing that makes you rethink how you feel about him.

Squares Filled: pretending not to care for @spider-man-bingo

Author’s Note: i didn't specify which peter parker is here, so you can imagine any of the three for this story!

x

Class could not go by any slower than it is now. It feels like you have been in here for hours even though it’s only been thirty minutes. Math is your favorite subject because you excel in it, so you’re confident to raise your hand when the teacher asks a question.

“Yes, Y/N?”

You open your mouth to answer when you hear someone chime in from behind you. Pete fucking Parker. The bane of your existence. The boy who makes your blood boil. The boy who thinks he’s too smart to be there.

“Fifty-three?” Peter answers like the teacher called on him or something.

“Thank you, Y/N,” the teacher says and turns around to write on the whiteboard.

You look behind you at Peter with a glare. He always has to chime in and give the right answer even though you know it. It’s like he wants to prove how smart he is with his stupid crooked smile, his bright eyes, and his shy exterior. He’s doing this on purpose. He has to be. 

“Alright, kids, it’s time for a pop quiz. You know the drill. Turn in your test at the front and wait for the bell to dismiss you.”

The teacher passes out a pop quiz for all the students to take, so you turn around and focus on your test.  Your teacher likes to give pop quizzes every Thursday, so is it really a pop quiz if everyone knows it’s coming? You scribble your name on it and start with question number one. You circle the right answer, going down the line until you get to the next page. You think you’re going at a good pace until you hear a chair screech signaling someone is getting up.

It better not be him. I swear to God if it is… Peter walks by your desk and places his finished test in the bin where the teacher wants it. You gasp silently at the thought of him being done only minutes after receiving the test. Sure, the test is easy and everyone passes them, but he can’t be done that quickly… can he? Peter catches your eyes with a smirk when he walks by you, and you roll your own out of annoyance. You’re not so annoyed at him being smart. You’re annoyed at the fact that Peter used to be so different before. You’re annoyed because you can’t figure it out.

After class is over, you head to the lunch room to meet our best friend, Amy. She is already at a table reserving your seat next to her. You grab the lunch special of the day and make your way over to her with a not-so-happy smile on your face.

“It’s Peter again, isn’t it?”

“He finished the pop quiz in minutes!” She shakes her head and stabs her salad with her fork. “Amy, you should have seen how cocky he looked. God, I wanna wring his neck.”

“Have you ever asked yourself why he gets on your nerves like that?”

“Yeah, because he’s fucking annoying, that’s why.”

Peter walks in after grabbing his lunch from his locker and meets up with his best friend. You forgot his name. They talk all the time but you’re not really interested in his friend. Peter is stuck inside your mind as you try to figure out what’s different about him. Your eyes are locked on him, studying his every move, trying to figure out his next step. He looks the same. He talks the same. He has the same friend. Yet there is something different about him, something more dangerous.

“You’re doing it again,” Amy nudges you.

“Something is up with Peter.  Something is different. He’s different.”

“Stop stalking your crush and eat your food.”

“Ew, he’s not my crush.”

“Mmhmm.”

You grab a carrot stick to munch on while keeping an eye on Peter. He walks with his friend to the table they want to sit at, trays of food in their hands. Flash is at one of the tables joking with his friends when he sticks his foot out to trip Peter, expecting his food to go flying everywhere. What no one expected is Peter to catch every fucking item back onto his tray like it never left it at all. The angrier you get, the more you gnaw on your carrot stick. Peter used to be so clumsy but it’s like he got an upgrade, and you need to know how he did it.

“You’re telling me you’re not the least bit curious as to why Peter got what looks like powers?”

“Not really,” Amy shrugs and keeps eating.

After lunch, you two make your way to your lockers which just so happen to be next to each other. You might have bribed your way into getting a locker next to hers but it’s worth it. You two can gossip in secret without anyone hearing.

“Do you think there will be a flower in there today?”

“Probably like there has been for the past week.”

You put your code into the lock and open your locker, staring at the beautiful single flower resting against your textbooks. Every day for the past week, a single flower has been left in your locker by someone anonymous. It’s always been a different flower that has not yet been repeated. There is no note, no indication of who put it there, or why. Yesterday, there was a pink rose and today it’s a purple carnation.

“I think it’s romantic. Someone has a crush on you,” Amy grins.

“What do I do? I have to find out who is doing this.”

“Well, when did it start?”

“Last week on Monday.”

“Isn’t that when the new flower shop opened in town?”

“Yeah.”

“Stalk that place. Whoever is getting you flowers has to be getting them from somewhere, and my bet is it’s from that place. See who stops by there after school, see what they buy, and if that flower shows up tomorrow, you have your answer.”

“This is why I keep you around. You’re the smart one.”

“Street smart. You’re book smart.” The bell rings to signal the next period, and she slams her locker closed. “I gotta go. Tell me how it goes!”

The rest of the day goes by without a hitch, probably because you don’t have another class with Peter. If you had, you’d be spending all your time obsessing over him. God, you sound like a desperate girl. You’re not. You’re just obsessed with finding out what’s different about him. Why hasn’t anyone else noticed this about Peter?

As soon as the final bell rings, you rush out of school like a bat out of hell. You want to get to the shop before the other students have a chance to leave, If you’re going to find out who is doing this, then you have to be the first one there. As if the universe is on your side, you’re the first one inside the flower shop. No one else is browsing which means it’s the perfect time to find a hiding spot.

“Hi! Welcome in! Do you need help finding something?”

You look up and see the friendly female cashier.

“No, thank you. I’m just looking.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do!”

You walk around the flower shop and admire the different kinds of flowers as you wait for someone to walk in. A few people come in over the next two hours but no one young enough to be in high school. You’re about to give up when the bell on top of the door rings to signal someone walked in. You look between two flowers and see none other than Peter Parker. You quickly hide in hopes he didn’t see you, and by the looks of it, he didn’t.

“Hey, Peter!” the cashier greets.

“Sandra. How are you?”

“Good! Are you here for another flower?”

“Yeah. Something different. Something I haven’t used before.”

“I saved a good bunch for you.” She walks to the back and retrieves a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Instead of handing him the whole thing, she takes a single flower from the bunch and hands it over to him. He takes out his wallet to pay but she waves him off. “It’s on the house.”

“Are you sure? I’d like to pay some time.”

“You can when you get the girl. Did she find your other flower?”

“Yeah,” Peter nods shyly.

“Are you ever going to ask her out?”

“I don’t know. I think she hates me.”

“Well, after she sees this flower, she won’t,” she winks.

Peter takes the yellow flower and leaves the store. If you don’t get home now, your parents will be mad. You sneak out of the shop and run all the way home, excited to see what kind of flower you’re going to find in your locker tomorrow. When tomorrow comes, the first thing you do is go straight to your locker. Amy is already by hers, putting her books into it and grabbing the one she needs for her first class.

“Hey, did you stake out the flower shop?”

“Yeah. Peter walked in and got a yellow orchid. A single flower. He and the cashier talked as if they had known each other for years.”

You open your locker and gasp when you see a yellow orchid sitting at the bottom of your locker. You grab it with delicate fingers and admire the bright color against your skin. Peter thinks you hate him. You don’t. Peter and his friend round the corner and head in the direction where you and Amy are. Maybe you can get over your obsession with finding out why he’s different and just enjoy his company. Peter looks up and sees you with the yellow flower he picked out yesterday with a huge smile on your face. You wait until he passes by you to say what you have to say.

“This is my favorite flower. I really like it.”

You don’t have to look at him directly to see the smile that comes onto his face. Different or not, Peter is still as cheesy as he was when you first met him.

x

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[spideyanakin]

Jokes on you

Peter Parker x Reader B99 Au

Au where MCU lives in the same universe as the 99

Synopsis - Jake is the only cop who’s ever managed to capture Spider-man.

Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️

Peter Parker Masterlist 🌻

Peter landed on your fire escape with an inaudible thud, hand gripping the worn-out metal bar to reach for your window. Before his fist could collide with the glass, he noticed the rainbow maker sticker he had bought for you at the MOMA's gift shop on your last school field trip.

He noticed only after spotting the trinket, that you were nowhere to be seen. He could see the mess on your desk, mountains of papers and colored pencils littered the space. The small blue desk light was on, shining across the squiggles on your paper. Peter couldn't see what it was about but he was ready to bet on his superpowers that you were trying to work a case. Either one Peter had told you about or one that had recently caught your attention on the news.

Or maybe even better--a case you had found this afternoon on your internship.

There you were. Peter's sense caught up with your light footsteps towards your bedroom door. Your hand catching the silver handle of your wooden before swinging it open.

Your face lit up when you saw Peter waiting at your window. You jumped on your feet, socked feet bouncing on the blue carpet as you made the few steps toward him.

Your fingers hooked with the handled of your window before pushing it open.

"How long have you been waiting here?" You greeted, soft smile dancing on your lips at his sight.

"A few minutes, barely," Peter swiftly slid into your room, removing his mask and throwing it on your bed before turning back to you.

You took him in, biting your lip. His hair was messy from his spider-man mask, his eyes bright as he stared back at you. He looked happy and you couldn't help but copy his contagious smile.

"That's good," you blurted out, lost in trying to figure out what made him so happy--but he was always happy, it was Peter.

“How was your internship?” He jumped a bit on his heels, pointing to the brand-new NYPD jacket you forgot you were still wearing.

“Fun, actually.” You chuckled. “I got to help fight crime today, a bit like you, I guess," you joked. "I'm assisting a detective, we're working on a case, it's pretty cool."

"Explains this?" He walked towards your desk to get a better look at what had previously caught his attention. You had drawn over a map of New York with different colors and shapes--scribbles only you knew the answers to.

"No, that's a whole different thing," you chuckled, meeting Peter by your desk and leaning closer to him.

“How was your "internship"?” You tilted your head to get a closer look at him. The air quotes getting a small laugh out of him. "Anything on that case you were telling me about?"

“Nope, nothing," he shrugged his shoulders. "Not much but the usual. Stolen bike, helping an old woman cross the road, always that same guy trying to steal a redbull from Delmar's. "

"Every day!"

"Every day! You'd thought he get the hint by now. Delmar threatened to call the police today though."

"As he should."

"Talking about the police, did you know that every cop in the state of New York is trying to catch you? They have this giant bet on which precinct will catch you first. It’s pretty funny actually," you laughed to yourself, thinking back on today's briefing when they taught you all about it. Jake had even shown you his folder with a collection of every single little detail he had collected, including old police reports from other precincts about failed attempts to catch him, to witness interviews.

“Oh well, I'm impossible to catch, darling,” Peter gave you his best grin.

"Confident much?"

"Always," he kissed your cheek.

“Well, be careful. They all think you’re the bad guy," you fixed a few strands of hair on his forehead.

“I always am, princess.” 

"So tell me, what's up with that guy you were telling me about. Because I think they have a similar case going on at the precinct.”

“Well, the guy I'm currently searching for is called Todd Willis. Known for selling drugs around Queens and Brooklyn, but now we think he’s selling Alien substances. Alien drug if you want. Tony asked me to keep an eye on him until they know more. What did you hear today?"

"I don't think that's the same guy, but one of the detectives was going on about how this guy was found with an ungodly amount of drugs and wouldn't tell them who he bought it from."

"Well, please tell me if you have anything on Todd Willis. I think it's bothering Tony more than he's letting on. Be nice to have some more clues."

"Promise."

- 

The next morning you got dressed in the NYPD uniform the nine-nine gave you, stuffing your name badge in your bag before scurrying off to grab breakfast at your closest Starbucks. You never went to Starbucks but you were in a rush and you forgot where you had placed your go-cup. Only when you were waiting for your coffee did you realize Peter had borrowed it two weeks ago and never gave it back.

You basically flew down the steps of the subway, thanking whatever gods were with you that morning because the train was just arriving as you swiped your card.

You finally allowed yourself to breathe correctly once you were sat on the uncomfortable blue bench and the silver doors closed, the train harshly starting again, and leaving behind the platform, heading in a straight line towards your destination.

You checked your watch before taking a new comforting sip of your drink, warm and sweet and everything you felt like you needed to survive today. Your shoulders slacked when you realized you had managed to catch up with the lost minutes, you were going to arrive right on time.

You decided to take your one-month mandatory work experience/ internship Midtown High required, with the NYPD. Unfortunately, you made your decision a little late, so the nine-nine was the only district available. It was a little far from your home, but at least it was still on the same side of the river. A few subway stops weren't going to scare you away.

You didn't mind as much as you thought you would. You loved Brooklyn, and the nine-nine had been much more welcoming than you'd imagine. In the little hours you had already spent with them, they had broken every stereotype that you built about working at a precinct. The images you had made yourself about the calm, serious, and strict detectives were quickly replaced by the chaotic staff that had greeted you days before.

“Morning intern!” Jake bounced on his chair as he saw you walk in.

“She’s not your personal intern, you know,” Amy raised an eyebrow, looking up from her computer as she took a new sip of her coffee.

“She’s technically Captain Holt’s intern,” Rosa entered the conversation, her sharp eyes keeping their focus on her screen. 

“Yeah, but he assigned her to work with me,” he pointed his finger at you and back to him. 

“Two days ago! She worked with me yesterday,” Amy raised her hands, almost offended by Jake’s comment.

“No, she didn’t! She worked with the two of us!”

“That’s because you wouldn’t leave us and forced Captain Holt to put you on the case,” she looked at him with the whites of her eyes.

“Alright, alright. But I’m sure we’re going to work together again.” Jake pointed the pink eraser of his pencil at you and winked. 

You bit your lip, trying to not laugh. 

“Morning Precinct," Captain Holt walked out of his office, head down on a pile of papers in his hands. "I have a new case for you Peralta,” he lifted his gaze to meet Jake's bright eyes. He walked the few steps to his desk, blue sneakers squeaking on the clean white floor before dropping everything that was in his hands on the messy desk, in between the scattered cups of coffee and the old-looking banana peel Jake promised had only been there two days. “So you can let Amy and her intern work on their case,” he nodded, "and clean your desk Peralta" he added, raising a disgusted eyebrow as he scanned the wooden surface. He looked back at Jake before turning on his heels, making large steps back towards his office.

“HA! My intern-” Captain Holt, turned around, and raised an eyebrow for the second time that morning, Amy gave him a small, apologetic smile before awkwardly turning back to you.

You took this as your cue to grab a chair and sit at Amy's desk.

Jake smirked at Amy's awkward interaction before looking down at the files Holt had dropped on his desk. He eyed the white paper who was staring back at him as if this was the greatest puzzle in history.

“Todd Willis?" He blinked, trying to reread the words as if there had been some kind of mistake, hoping he wasn't losing his mind. "Didn’t we close his case a while ago?" Jake turned to Holt who was still standing at the border between the room and the safe heven that was his office.

"Yes, but it was just reopened. He’s been apparently selling some... new, stronger drug.” 

Your face fell when you heard the name. Peter was going after that guy too. Was he that dangerous that he had also caught the eye of the police?

You'd figure Jake was going to ramble about him as he worked the case, maybe you could remember some information and tell everything to Peter. Help him beat the nine-nine and crack the case before they did.

But wait. What if you cracked the case before Peter?

You loved Peter with everything in you but he was always smug about his Spider-man powers making him more useful than any detective around town.

What if you helped Jake and the nine-nine break the case before your boyfriend? Now that would be fun. 

“Captain?” You politely raised your voice, making Holt's attention drift to you. He nodded, expectantly looking at you--you took it as your cue, “may I work with Jake on the case? I was fascinated by this case when it was ongoing,” you gave him your best smile, hoping he would let you in on.

The challenge of helping the nine-nine beat Peter was way too thrilling. A race you were ready to win. A way to grab on to feeling like a super hero in your own way.

Holt raised his eyebrows, taking a second to process your request. Jake was talented but he was the personification of ADHD and could be a pain to work with. Holt truly thought that you had experienced that firsthand the other day. Nevertheless, he saw your attitude towards the Todd Willis case and knew that if you had indeed been fascinated with it, then you might indeed be some great help to his craziest recruit.

“I don’t see why not. Y/n you can work with Peralta on the case. Sorry Santiago, you can partner up with Boyle," he nodded before finally disappearing back into his office.

Amy’s mouth fell open, and Jake abruptly stood up, making a happy dance around his table.

"I'm sorry?" You offered Amy who looked at you with betrayal written all over her features. You stood up and moved your chair to sit next to Peralta.

“She’s my intern now! In ya face! Suckers!” 

“So, what you got so far?” You grounded Jake back to reality. He smiled before sitting in his chair, dramatically straightening his back and licking his finger to better flip the first page, ready to reveal all the information laid out on the files before him.

“Let’s see…”

-

Four hours had passed since you and Jake started working, your help being way more precious than he ever thought it would be. You had relocated to one of the workrooms. A large pinboard on the wall with the potential clues and locations. A table was in the middle of the room, with just even more papers splayed across it; an Agatha Christie book you thought held a potential clue, a random yellow kitchen glove neatly placed in a ziplock that had been found on a goose chase to catch Todd. You hadn't been allowed to pull it out of the bag, but you thought having it around might still be important.

The last blueberry muffin of a box Terry had kindly given you after your first hour of research stood proudly in between the mess you had created, and empty glasses previously holding peach syrup sat on the edges.

You looked at the map pinned to the wall.

“We're missing a step. It’s impossible he carried the drugs from LA to here without anyone noticing," Jake's fingers danced across the map, stopping on the picture of the drug cargo that you had pinned to the Hudson River hours prior. "He must have a base somewhere in New York,” he continued.

You sighed. You knew you needed some information that you could only get in the field, and it bothered you that you couldn't be as free and sneaky as Spider-man. You understood why Peter and the avengers cracked cases so fast and easily. They were able to get information fast and spying came easy. For the police, going on the field meant a whole lot of equipment and prep. They had to be sure, use the clues they already had before they could act on their suspicions.

Your familiar ringtone broke you out of your thoughts.

Of course, it was Peter. As if he knew you were thinking about him. “It’s my boyfriend. Can I take that?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” he shook his hand as if to show you it was more than ok, "we should take a break anyways."

You nodded before exiting the room and making a beeline to the terrace where the staff would take their private calls or the occasional cigarette.

“Hey babe,” you smiled over the phone. 

“Hi” 

“What's up?” 

“Nothing much,” he chuckled over the phone. “Just wanted to hear your voice, see how work was going. I got some more info on Todd, Im about to leave the compound."

"Oh neat," you bit your lip. That easy to get information out of Peter?

"I discovered he has a base in Brooklyn,” Peter replied making the last part of his sentence a little mysterious.

“Brooklyn?” Your eyes lit up. “Where in Brooklyn?”

“Clinton Hill, Myrtle av. Plus it’s not far from you." You could hear some shuffling and a door closing behind him. The familiar sound of webs and suddenly, a lot of wind over the phone. "Why?” his voice came out as muffled.

"Peter, are you calling and swinging again?"

"Maybe?" You could barely hear him, making you huff.

"Peter-- we talked about this, please be careful. Call me back after your mission, kay?"

“Yep. That works, bye, love you.”

“Love you too," you hung up, and pocketed your phone. "Unbelievable," you shook your head in disbelief. After the number of times, Peter almost crashed into a building by being on the phone with you or Ned or even Tony--and he had to do it again.

You sighed before walking back into the building, at least he gave you a lead. A very good lead.

“Jake, I think I got something,” you approached the table, eyes dancing across the accumulation of papers before you found your pick. It was a small yellow Post-it note with Jake's sloppy handwriting; ‘Moaning M Ry 2' written in blue ink. You and Jake had spent the whole afternoon wondering what it meant, and your conversation with Peter had struck the answer right out of you.

“Are there any streets around Myrtle av that starts with Ry?” 

“I don’t know so let me check,” Jake turned from the pinboard to his laptop, fingers dancing across the keyboard as he searched the map of Brooklyn.

“Yeah, Ryerson St. Why?”

“Well is there an N2 to this street?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you check the building?”

Jake fidgeted with the keys of his computer before getting the picture of an old grey building.

“Hey! We searched the building ages ago!” Jake pointed to it. “It’s totally possible their base is here!” He approached the board. “Hey this actually makes a lot of makes. But how did you-” he pointed, shock evident in his eyes.

“Well, these guys aren’t the only Harry Potter fans out there,” a small smirk rose on your lips as you handed the paper to Jake. He looked at you with quizzical eyes and then down to the note in his hand. 

“Oh my god!" His eyes grew wide as he read his lopsided letters "Moaning M is Moaning Myrtle I'm so dumb! Harry Potter is just the best right?” He gave you a bright smile.

“Yeah!” You chuckled. “I think you should get a team there as quickly as possible, you don’t know what their next move will be.” You added, wanting more than ever to win this one-way race with your boyfriend.

“Yes. And thank you for your help… Detective.”

- 

You sighed, watching the bottom of your coffee cup, fingers mindlessly tapping on the wooden surface of Jake's desk--while Gina talked about some random life facts about her, instead of giving you the lists of tasks that Captain Holt had asked her to hand you about an hour ago.

"Any news of Jake and Amy?" you turned to Terry who jumped at your voice, quickly closing the flappy golf page--fear of getting caught playing a video game by an intern during work hours quickly rising in his chest.

In all truths, he was bored. While Amy, Jake, and Boyle had run off to the location you had found, he had to work on what was probably the most boring case Holt had assigned him to this year.

He checked his phone, sighing when there was no message, simply his daughters' faces and big bright white numbers staring back.

"No," you melted a little more in your chair at his words.

You wished that you could have gone with them, but security was what mattered most, and of course, interns were not allowed on fieldwork.

You had no news of Peter either, making you think this had actually been a really good lead, and they were all busy trying to figure out what the heck was in this abandoned building.

In the meantime, Jake parked the disguise van and started his lookout. The big grey building sat quiet, as of yet no signs of life revealed to them. Everything was quiet until a light thump rang through the van. 

“What was that,” Amy grabbed the nearest car handle, whispering in panic. 

“Oh my god, I bet it’s Spider-man!” Jake whispered back like a fan girl whose celebrity crush had just breathed the same air. 

“You really think Spider-man is on top of our van?“ Amy tilted her head thinking his idea was absurd.

"That would be amazing,” Boyle said over the intercom. Until now he stayed quiet in the back area of the van accompanied by all the spying equipment. 

“You think we should try and catch him?” Jake whispered even lower. 

“How do you want us to catc-” Amy raised her voice, attempting to speak normally but Jake slapped his hand on her mouth. 

“Shhh. He has special hearing,” Jake whispered as low as he possibly could.

“How do you even know that?” Amy asked, trying her best to match Jake's whispers.

“I have a plan,” Jake carefully looked at Amy. “Alright, Boyle, can you look at the van’s door camera.”

“On it,” Boyle excitedly pressed on the camera buttons. 

“Alright, if he gets down, hit him with a tranquilizer, and quickly grab him. Put him in the van and come in the front with us. Make sure you double-lock the door. Make sure you do it quickly.”

“Why so quick if he’s tranquilized?” Amy didn't see the logic.

“Don’t you know anything about him!? He heals super fast which means we have like two minutes until he wakes up and gets back on his feet,” Jake huffed as if this was common knowledge, almost offended that Amy knew nothing.

“How do you know so much?” Amy whispered scream. 

“He’s like my favorite hero!”

“Yeah, Amy. He’s like Jake’s favorite hero," Boyle added through the intercom.

“And every cop knows that the sixty-seven tried to but he woke up before they could get him,” Jake added like it was obvious. 

And as if on cue, Spider-Man jumped down the van he thought was empty and slowly walked towards the building, careful not to make any startling noise for the potential bad guys who took cover inside.

"JAKE JAKE!" Boyle whispered and screamed as he saw the red silhouette appear on his computer. "He's there!"

Jake let out an excited squeak, and Boyle grabbed the tranquilizer gun that was stored on the side of the computer desk. Boyle took a breath before opening the door in a flash, perfectly shooting a tranquilizer right into Spider-man.

"Jake! Amy!" Boyle screamed and Amy and Jake rushed out of the van--making Jake scream when he saw his hero laying face flat on the floor.

"Oh my god, this is the best day of my life!" He jumped like a kid high on sugar. "Amy we caught Spider-man! We caught Spider-man!"

Amy stared at him in shock, trying to register what was even happening. She blinked when Jake and Boyle high-fived.

"Well, what are you waiting for get him in the van!"

- 

You were washing your hands in the bathroom when Jake and Boyle came back in the precinct in a hurry. Jake's hair looked at mess and his eyes were as big as they could possibly get over the excitement,

“Guys, guys! we caught Spider-Man!” 

“You caught The Spider-Man? You sure this isn’t just some guy in a costume?” Holt fixed his glasses, giving skeptical eyes to Jake.

“Hundred percent sure, Sir. No look five!” Jack blindly threw his right hand behind him, just to collide with Boyle's hand who took the cue faster than his mind could comprehend.

“Is it that guy dressed as Spider-man that lives in your building again?” Rosa interrupted. 

“Rosa, if the real Spider-man lived in my building I would have a tattoo on my forehead that says ‘Spider-man lives in my building’” Jake pointed to his forehead and chuckled. 

A small silence fell in the room, Captain Holt crossed his arms, eyes boring into Jake's as he tried to pull answers. 

“We should still check, I really want to know if I should add the 15th bar to my ‘Jake caught a random guy dressed as Spider-man’ board.” Rosa stood up from her chair. 

The whole of the team didn't bother with the thought of Jake's latest potential find, making only Captain Holt, Terry, and Rosa who came only for mere entertainment purposes, followed the team of three to the parking lot where the van had been parked.

"Brace yourselves!" Jake fed into the suspense, slowly placing his hands around the handles before ripping the door open "Ta Da-"

Before the five cops that stood around the van could register, the one and only hero flew out of the confined place, throwing as many webs as he possibly could in an attempt to escape the clutches of the police. Captain Holt was thrown to the floor as a web hit his leg and glued him to the floor.

Without a word, and almost a sigh of total annoyance, Rosa grabbed the taser on her belt and hit Spider-man that was standing right in front of her with it. The poor hero fell to the floor, unconscious.

"Well, you were right. This is The Spider-Man. Now I would really appreciate it if you would get me out of these… Webs.”

“Soz, Sir don’t think I can. You have to wait two hours. Got caught in them once, good luck going to the bathroom Sir.” Jake sheepishly replied, his tone cheery. He bounced on his heels in excitement as he spotted Terry and Rosa already starting to pick up Spider-man.

-

“Thought he would be heavier,” Terry said as he slowly draped the unconscious hero on the chair of the interrogation room.

“Y/n!” Jake called out, out of breath from sprinting up the stairs.

“Hey, how was the mission?”

“It is what we thought it was but that’s not important! Come!” Jake waved his hands for you to come, you raised an eyebrow watching him grab his guitar before making you follow him down to the interrogation rooms. 

“Bab–aaspider Man?” Your eyes went wide. You saw Peter, still fully dressed in his Spider-man suit, face down on the table-- cuffed hands twitching as he was slowly starting to wake up.

“Babpider man? I like that” Peralta added not realizing your almost mistake to call the hero in front of you, babe.

“I hate when you make up words Peralta,” Captain Holt deadpanned.

“We’re about to reveal who he truly is.” Jake bounced excitedly next to you. “Couldn’t let you miss it!” He turned to you, and your mind went through every possible way that you could stop this from happening--but no idea came to mind. “You guys ready?" Jake sat on the table. “I want to wake him up first.” Jake looked at you before unzipping the guitar bag, just to reveal and light brown guitar. You watched as he carefully placed it on his legs, clearing his throat.

“Oh boy,” Amy exclaimed before covering her ears, signing you to do the same.

“SPIDER-MAN, SPIDER-MAN!” Jakes screamed while doing notes on his guitar you were sure not to be the right notes to this song. "DOES WHATEVER A SPIDER CAN!"

Spider-Man shot up, the eyes of his mask opening wide. He looked around at the unfamiliar faces, right until he saw yours. You gave him the most apologetic smile you possibly could, and you could see from the way the eyes of his suit twitched that he was silently asking for your help.

Jake got closer, hand reaching to peel his mask off.

“What but- You can’t just do that!” You tried.

“What do you mean? Its Spider-Man we’re talking about!” Jake almost whined, not understanding your reasoning. 

“But what if his identity remains a secret for a reason? Maybe he wants to stay quiet?”

“Hey hey hey, please don’t remove my mask sir.” Spider-Man shifted in his spot, attempting to move his hands but he was trapped.

“Oh C’mon! This is like my life’s dream. Relax a little, guys! Be cool,” Jake tried to ease the tension.

“But-” 

“You guys can be so stupid sometimes,” Gina lost her focus on her freshly manicured hands, ready to take the matter into her own hands. She planted herself right behind Spider-man before ripping his mask off in one swift motion--a moment straight out of a Scooby-Doo episode, you thought.

“Oh damn your pretty,” she exclaimed before examining his face. “Oh hey, Y/n it’s your boyfriend! Damn girl,” she looked at you and then back to Peter.

Your face burned in embarrassment as the whole of the precinct now stared at you. 

“You know him?" Terry pointed to Peter.

"Kind of?”

"Kind of?" Gina interrupted you. "Queen, you're literally together, kissing on your lock screen."

“Y/n’s boyfriend is Spider-Man,” Jake shrieked.

“Yeah?” You offered him.  

“Y/n’s. Boyfriend. Is. The. Real. Spider. Man,” he looked at everyone in the group. 

“You ok, Jake?” 

“Im cool. Everything is Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.” 

Jake walked out of the room. Silence fell before a loud scream coming from the main room was heard.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” 

“He’s gonna be alright”

be added to my taglist

@justifymyfeelings @slytherinambitious @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes @criminaly-supernatural @jetblackheavt​ @thekamiiiworld @tomsirishgirlx @izbelross @dazedkrosupreme @sweetdayme4427 @bi-lmg07 @dazedkrosupreme @davinaclaire12 @iamlaradevill @jasontoddthezombie @littlethief78 @wallaballabingbang @springholland @magnetoluvbot @a-avengerparker @cocop0pz @Spideyparkerswife321 @thelovehashira143 @thiccmemechicc @whymyparentscheckmyphone @notfeelingsogoofy @justawildmary @blueskies4everxo @prestigious-tea @saturnhas82moons @uncultured @way-to-go-super-star @killtherandomness @alexeimaybedead @jkthinkstoomuch @idli-dosa @thesorcersupreme @the-beloved-goddess @RinnaAlyse @olsensnpm @ye1enas-v3st @Casualearthquakecollector @Ahsedovah @charradelange @namoreno @ellabellabus07 @lilostif16 @myshaahmad77 @theswitch-er @kaitieskidmore1 @lievesobsession @kaygilles @nickangel13 @kenzi-woycehoski @chaotic-fangirl-blog @softpeachysoul @Loggy70 @lustfulseonghwa @burninggracesandbridges @chaoticevilbakugo @crayzmarvelfan800 @rqmanoff @shunna @todorokishoe21 @buttercastlestudios @etalnxngel @marsbars09 @aprorios @ccosmic-illusion @parkershoco

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #tom holland x reader #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x you #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #spider man #spider man x reader #spider man x you #spider man imagine #b99 au #brooklyn nine nine au #b99

[spidey-webz]

peter parker masterlist

some of these are andrew!peter, but i primarily write for tom holland's peter parker! if no other peter is indicated, it's tom holland's portrayal

main masterlist

✦ – contains smut

✧. ┊ DRABBLES

Lost and Found (Andrew!Peter)

Peter lost you. When he finds you again, he can't believe his eyes...

New Neighbour

Your neighbour keeps you up all night – just not in the way you expected.

A bunch of coincidences (Andrew!Peter)

What are the odds to end up in a different New York where your brother acts strangely and you find a different, quite attractive, version of yourself? (Spider-Woman reader)

Reminder of her (Andrew!Peter)

You are Peter's best fried, yet he isn't the one to save you from the fall...

✧. ┊ ONE SHOTS

Red

You and Peter decide to end your relationship since your lives grew to be too different. But it's too hard to forget him. Part of the Red Anthology

✧. ┊ HEADCANONS

Peter being a dad (Andrew!Peter)

Spider-Woman!Reader learning about her powers from the other Spider-Men (platonic)

Nerding with Peter (Andrew!Peter)

Going to prom with boyfriend!Peter

Sleepover with boyfriend!Peter

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker #mcu #marvel #spider man #spider man imagine #spider man fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker x you #tom holland #andrew!peter parker x reader #tom!peter parker x reader

[mrshipsmcgee]

I crave some of the classic “random villain kidnaps Peters girl and tortures her in order to get info on him” add in some “Peter shows up at the last minute and goes feral” to make me happy

Yes ma’am. Anything for you my darling 😏

WARNINGS: blood, booboos, owies, hurt

Peter steps into the open window of his shared apartment with his best friends, Miles and Mary Jane. Peter thumbs the switch of the floor lamp beside him before discarding his mask, pausing as his brows lace together - scanning his surroundings realizing his normally warm and inviting home was dark and empty.

No Miles.

No MJ.

They should be up still.. the house should smell like fresh popcorn and the fireplace should be filled with orange flames as Miles and Mary Jane played through their newest video game together.

They always stayed up together for whoever was on patrol.. but tonight something was wrong.

Hair stands up straight on the back of Peter’s neck as he steps deeper into the home, the old wood floors creaking under the weight of each step he took.

He hears a small whimper - MJ’s whimper.

His stomach drops as he crosses the into Miles’ room.

“Shit,” Peter whispers, hot tears forming in his eyes as they fall upon Miles. Peter is frozen, chest rising as he approaches where Miles sat on the ground propped against his bed, crimson blood flowing from his abdomen as he stares up at Peter.

Peter drops to his knees, immediately inspecting the stab wounds on Miles’ stomach. Peter cries, cupping Miles’ face - his normally warm eyes now panicked as he stares at his wounded friend.

“I- I’m okay, Pete,” Miles tries to point to the door. “He has her. Go.”

Peter’s palm drops from Miles as he stands, gritting his teeth, “Where are they?”

Miles shakes his head, “I don’t know Pete. She… she stopped crying a few minutes ago,” he begins to cry. “He came through the window. We- we thought it was you, Pete. I swear. I promise I tried. My powers failed me.. I’m so sorry, Peter. I should have known-.”

“-No, Miles,” Peter interjects, dropping to his knees again and taking his friend’s face in his hands before planting a loving kiss to his forehead. His eyes meet Miles’, “There’s no need to apologize. You’re still learning.. it’s okay.”

Tears run down Miles’ cheeks as he nods at Peter, “I love you, man.”

“I love you, too,” Peter whispers.

“Please, go find her.. He’s going to kill her,” Miles sobs. “She can’t die. I can’t handle another death.”

Peter stands, already stalking towards the door as he cracks his knuckles, “You won’t have to.”

Rage courses through Peter as he nears the cracked door of his bedroom, kicking it open and stepping through the threshold.

“I was wondering if you’d get home before or after I’ve killed them,” a familiar voice comes from the corner of the room. “I’ve been waiting for this day for so long now. I had hoped you’d be here to watch them die. I’m so happy things are working out as planned. You know, Peter - it’s been an awful long time since you’ve watched a loved one die. Hasn’t it?”

“Show yourself, Harry,” Peter growls. “I’m the one you want anyway, right?”

“Peter Parker… such a bright mind, but still can’t figure out the purpose of this all,” Harry let’s out a gravely laugh. “I’m simply doing what I have done before. I’m killing your hope. I don’t want you dead, I want you miserable. I want you to wish for death.”

“Where is she?” Peter asks, fists clenched as his chest rises and falls, “Where is Mary Jane?”

“Oh, the pretty one?” Harry’s voice is playful. “Pete, do you remember what I like to do with pretty women?”

Peter gulps, eyes flickering between rage and sorrow.

“I like to do whatever the fuck I want with pretty women, Peter,” Harry finally steps out of the shadows. “And god damn did I do whatever the fuck I wanted with her.”

Peter charges Harry, hands wrapping around his scaly neck as he begins to choke him, “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Do you know who she cried for the entire time?” Harry laughs as he chokes. “You. And - and you - you weren’t there. You - you never are.”

Peter throws Harry against the wall before slamming him onto the ground, holding him by the collar as he screams, “Where is she?!” Peter’s fist meets Harry cheek, then his jaw, then his left eye, then his throat. Harry gasps for air as Peter pulls away, his face beet-red as he screams “Tell me!”

“Go to the bedroom,” Harry smiles. “I’ll just say that she couldn’t move whenever I was done with her.”

Peter immediately runs to Mary Jane’s bedroom.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he sees MJ laying naked on her toddler bed, “Mary Jane.” He rushes to her side, a scream escaping from his throat as he sees the markings all over her beautiful body. Her body already bruising from Harry’s abuse.

His fingers ghost over her bloodied gut, carved perfectly was

H A R R Y

Peter lets out an anguished cry as his hands hover over Mary Jane, to afraid to take her into his arms.

She wakes, eyes lazily opening as she looks to Peter, “Peter.”

“You’re here,” a small smile spreads across her face, her busted lip ripping more due to her drying lips. She hisses.

Peter cries, “MJ.. MJ, I- I- I’m so sorry. Mary Jane… I wasn’t here to protect you. Or- or Miles…”

“But you’re here now,” she blinks before passing back about due to pain.

He sobs, taking MJ by the hand and planting a tender kiss to the top of her limp hand. “I’m going to take care of this, and then I’m going to take care of you and Miles.”

Peter’s face drops, wiping the tears from his warm cheeks as he steps into his bedroom and grabs Harry by the collar.

Peter’s face is expressionless as he starts to pummel his ex-friend - beating him to the point of being unrecognizable. His fists finally stop as he hears Harry’s skull crunch under his final blow.

The hero stands, staring at his work - the bloodied piece of shit lying dead on his bedroom floor. “No one fucks with my family.”

#tasm peter imagines #tasm peter parker #peter parker angst #tasm angst #mary jane watson #miles morales #peter parker x mary jane watson #harry osborn #the amazing spiderman #tasm headcanon #headcanons with cait #andrew garfield #tasm fanfiction #andrew garfield fanfiction #peter parker andrew garfield #andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker fan fiction #spiderman fanction #peter parker fanfiction #tasm #peter parker #peter parker x reader #my darling katie #mrshipsmcgee

[astrobub]

I’ll Always Wait for You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (also some Cindy x Peter)

Warnings: Some slight angst, a lil bit of co-dependency (it’s very slight of you read into it but not heavily described)

A/N: wrote this on the train and immediately posted on my phone so this is not proofed and I’m sorry for any typos. just something short and brief I did. Also the formatting of weird because I posted on my phone so I’m super sorry for that :(

It feels weird to see Peter with someone else.

For as long as you could remember it had always been Peter and Y/n. You had known each other practically since diapers seeing as May and your mom were close.

And in all those years of getting to know each other’s crooks and crannies you had never pictured Peter with a girlfriend. Had never imagined him looking at someone else when you were there.

It felt wretched to watch him fall in love with some girl the two of you hardly knew but you couldn’t say why.

Cindy was a lovely girl. She was smart, pretty, and kind, all the basic adjectives that people look for in partners. Cindy was strong willed and had a way of making everyone in the room agree with her. It was never in a malicious way but rather a sense of right and wrong.

Y/n couldn’t understand why she didn’t like Cindy. Why did you feel that Peter would be better suited off with someone else?

It was one of those days where Cindy was crashing the pair's lunch and Peter was all preoccupied with Cindy and her new hairdo.

You could feel your eyes squinting at the pair with jealousy ? No, why would you be jealous? You certainly didn’t want a boyfriend. At least you didn’t think so. Now thinking about it you had never really thought about having a significant other. You had Peter, what else was there to think about?

That night after your midnight call with Peter you stayed up and came up with a mental list of what you want in a partner.

They would have to be smart of course. How else would they be able to understand the complex conversations Peter and you had? Obviously understanding because you were aware of the complications of having a boy best friend. You wouldn’t stand for any internalized misogyny taken outwardly on you. Caring is a big one. Like the one time Peter helped a mean lady cross the street who afterwards hit him with her cane. He still smiled and wished her well and Y/n thinks she’d just about fall in love with anyone who was that kind.

While coming up with this mental list Y/n paused on the thoughts. You thought about how you could fall in love with any person who was like Peter essentially.

Holy shit you were in love with Peter.

Now this revelation ruined your night and the following morning because you had to avoid Peter.

How are you meant to confront your best friend who had a girlfriend that you’re in love with him?

Simple you don’t.

Peter tracks you down at the end of the day and immediately corners you. At that moment you think you may explode. He has this look on his face full of adoration, love, and worriedness. Like you’re the most important person in the world. But you’re not. Cindy is. And so this harsh reality brings you back down to earth where life is cruel. You push past him saying nothing is wrong and that you have to get home. At this he grabs your arm turning you to face him and you melt. He has a pained look on his face as if your truth can stop him from his internal mourning.

You soften and fall into his touch as if you two were in a silent limbo. As you put your hand to his face he closes his eyes and leans into your warmth.

You look at him with so much love and he would never know. It pains you to think he isn’t yours to love. With that you whisper,

“I’m sorry….I love you”

and lean up a bit to kiss him on his cheek. His eyes flutter open and he is on the verge of tears. A few have fallen past your eyes and you smile. A pained broken smile but a smile nonetheless. He takes a gulp and right as he is about to speak when you hear Cindy calling his name out.

She’s his and he’s hers. Your smile tightens and you leave his grasp as he reaches out for you once more you leave the building and Peter thinks he may die. He’s lost you and isn’t sure anything other than you can console his grief.

The following weeks are uncomfortable. Peter is still with Cindy and while you knew the pair wouldn’t break up because of your silly feelings, a part of you hoped, dreamed he would be yours again.

You no longer sit with the pair but every once and a while look up from your current spot to feel eyes on you. Peter has a distant look while Cindy talks to him. Unaware their relationship has completely shifted. He glances at her and does a nod to indicate he is listening to her. You know his mind is elsewhere and you can’t help but feel guilty for ruining your friendship as well as his relationship.

Although you two haven’t spoken in over a month you feel just as in love with him as the day you realized. In a pathetic way you think you could love him forever with the same intensity.

The following week Peter shows up unannounced. Your mom is glad to see him and asks how May is. His response is brief before begging to know if you’re home.

When he comes into your room he is met with your tear stained face and his lip quivers. He knows he is the cause of your pain and he wants to rip his own heart out and beg you to accept it to stop your tears. Neither of you speak. Staring at each other with such intensity and so much emotion there aren’t words to put to it. He speaks first with a simple,

“We broke up.”

Your first reaction is to wrap your arms around him and sooth his back. You feel him crying into your shoulder and you allow him to go through his sadness. He cries for what feels like hours but in reality was only the length of a sitcom run. When he looks up at you from your chest with red puffy eyes he leans up and catches your lips in his own.

You feel escatic he’s finally yours. As you both pour years of loss into the kiss you pull away gasping. You don’t want him like this. You don’t want to be his rebound. You want him at his best first before you can accept his worst.

You tell him this of course and his puppy dog eyes come out faster than you’d like. He begs and grovels at your feet saying you’re all I want.

And while this is everything you want to hear it is not how you want to hear it.

“Peter I love you. I love you so much the past month was agony to be away from you but I can’t be your second choice. I won’t be. I deserve better than that and you know it,” and while you choke on your breath after speaking your truth he grabs your face in his large palms and forces you to look at him in his eyes. They show so much adoration for you and you feel as if you may take your words back but you know you must stay strong. Love mustn’t allow you to change your morals.

“I love you Y/n and I’ll wait as long as you need but I need you to know I only have eyes for you. I’ve only loved you and I only will. I’m your 100% and the reason why I came over here was because I had to let you know. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. The day you kissed me changed my life forever and opened up a new emotion I’d never felt before. When you left I wanted to die. I couldn’t stand the thought of you hurting and I’m sorry it took me to long to end this with her I just hadn’t properly come to my feelings yet but I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you because I love you,” and the way he speaks brings warmth and tightness to your chest. You kiss him once more and part with your forehead resting on his.

“Thank you for waiting for me.”

#Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker fluff #Peter Parker angst #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker fanfic #Peter Parker fan fiction #peter parker imagines #peter parker oneshot #Spider-Man imagine #Spider-Man fluff #Spider-Man x reader #Spider-Man angst #spider man fanfiction

[sadslay]

- INVISIBLE ⋆☆ 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐜 ⋆☆ PART ONE

↳ agent profile

↳ enhanced agents

↳ veiled soldier

full name: y/n l/n

date of birth: may 2000

abilities: invisibility

enhanced physical combat

enhanced intelligence

kills: 97

notes: no trace of biological parents

reassigned to the care of natasha romanoff in

2014

"y/n?" a muffled voice call.

sliding my headphones down to the base of my neck, i slammed my locker shut before turning around to inspect where the voice was coming from. as i turned around there were several students walking up and down the hall but one face caught my attention. a few meters away stood peter parker with his back to a locker as he stared at me in disbelief.

"peter?" i smiled as i began to walk in his direction.

"what uh- what are you doing here?" he asked as his friends head popped put from behind his locker door.

"i uh- i'm studying here until nat gets back."

"wha- whe, sorry." he breathed as he was still trying to process my changed appearance. "who are you staying with?"

"one of tonys apartments a few blocks away." i smiled weakly. “got the whole place to myself.” i muttered sarcastically.

“mr. stark?” peter whispered.

"tony?" peters friend asked. "as in tony stark?"

"you must be ned." i smiled. "i'm y-"

"y/n, yeah i know." he cut me off as he began to smile. "you're the veiled solider right?" he asked quietly.

"yeah." i smiled weakly.

“cool.” he grinned. “do you know peter from the internship?”

“internship?” i frowned, looking at peter who’s eyes had widened as he looked at me before turning to ned.

“yeah, uh we were in the same devision.” he spoke in a shaky voice. “hey, uhm could i talk to you for a minute?”

peter bite down on his lip nervously as he waited for a response from me. i shrugged before nodding my head causing peter to hold onto my hand as he pulled me down the hall until he found a quieter corridor.

“what internship is ned asking about?” i smiled trying not to laugh at peters flustered state.

“he doesn’t know, no one does.” he whispered loudly.

“about you being-“

“yes!” he snapped is a hushed whisper cutting me off.

“wow.” i huffed. “i’m surprised you can keep a secret, especially one like this.” i smirked.

“please don’t tell him.” he pleaded as he began to fidget with the bottom of his shirt.

“relax parker, i’m not going to tell anyone.” i smiled a little more warmly, trying not to scare him off.

“thank you.” he breathed, finally relaxing a little. “a-and i’m sorry about ned, bringing up the whole-“

“it’s fine.“ i cut him off. “hey, uhm did you wanna come over tomorrow?” i asked.

peters mouth gaped open causing me to panic a little. as he tried to speak, nothing came out but sounds of him half stuttering a word.

“y-you uh, you could bring ned and maybe we could watch a movie.” i suggested, not wanting to be rejected.

i was not only desperate to befriend peter but to not spend another weekend alone. after natasha went into hiding, tony took me under his wing. he had brought me an apartment near the school and he would visit me every week or so to check in. peters eyes widened at my question. it took him a second or two to stutter out a response.

“ye-yeah sure.” he stuttered.

i looked down at the bag slung over my shoulder and hanging up the bottom of my waist. i searched through the bag and eventually found a pen.

with peter watching every move, i took peters hand and began to write my address and number on his palm. the tip of the pen tickled peters palm and he tried his hardest not to squirm.

“i’ll see you tomorrow.” i smiled, gently letting go of his hand.

before peter could say anything, i used both of my hands to slide my headphone back onto my head, the music softly playing as i began to walk towards my next class.

after getting a few quiet knocks at my door, i got up from my bed and jogged over to the door. brushing my hair out of my face i swung the door open to find peter standing a few feet away from the door.

he was wearing a t-shirt with a math joke printed on the front with a blue unzipped jumper and a khaki green jacket over the top. a soft smile crept onto his lips as he waited for something to happen.

“no ned?” i asked.

“n-no uh, he uh had some stuff come up.” peter managed to stutter. “i-is that okay?”

“yeah, totally.” i smirked as i stepped back to allow peter to walk through.

“so, uh what movies were you thinking?” peter asked as he wandered into the main living space of my apartment.

“well, i’ve got a bunch of the old star wars movies we could watch or-“

“star wars is good.” he smiled, turning back around to see me in the kitchen. “i d-didn’t know you liked star wars.”

“theres a lot of things you don’t know about me parker.” i smiled as i began to walk over to my couch as i carried two glasses of water. “should we start with episode one?”

“yeah.” peter nodded as he followed me to the couch.

as i sat down on one side of the couch, peter sat in the middle, only a few inches away from me. after a minute or two, the movie began to play causing them both to relax a little.

“f.r.i.d.a.y, lights down.” i spoke clearly.

slowly the apartment lights began to dim, the only light coming from the near by bedroom window. as the theme song began to play, i got a little more comfortable, slouching into the couch. peter sat mostly up right with his hands by his side.

peters body tensed when my hand brushed up against his.

“are you okay?” i asked as i had noticed peters breathing becoming heavy.

“ye-yeah.” he managed to stutter as his eyes darted all over the room. “th-this is j-just my favourite part.”

i turned to look at the screen to see padme amidala being attacked by a stout brute, half of her shirt being ripped off in the process.

“really?” i questioned as i turned to look back at peter.

“uh yes.” he frowned quickly looking at the screen. “o-one of my favourites.” he corrected.

“sure.” i laughed quietly. “your favourite also when jabba the hutt has leia as his little pet?” i smirked, watching peter grow even more flustered.

“wh- ah no, no.”

“i’m just teasing parker.” i began to giggle.

“ri-right.” he smiled weakly, finally looking at blair who was closely watching peter. “sorry.”

“stop apologising.” she smiled.

while i was watching the movie i could feel peters eyes watching me.

“you’re missing the movie.” i smirked.

as i turned to look at peter, he quickly snapped his head back to the screen.

“ri-right sorry.” he mumbled, trying to stay focused on the screen.

after a second or two i noticed herself watching peter as his eyes desperately tried to stay focused on the screen. slowly peter began to turn head back to me. i could hear peters breath become unsteady. my lips lingered inches away from peters. my eyes kept wandering between peters eyes and lips, too nervous to do anything, peter stayed completely still.

i moved her hand to peters cheek before gently kissing him. when peter didn’t pull away, i couldn’t help but smile. as our lips began to move in perfect harmony the kiss grew more passionate.

i felt truly euphoric. peters hands moved from the couch to the sides of my hips. i pulled herself closer to peter as my fingers began to run through peters hair, sending him into a spiral.

“wh-wait.” peter mumbled as he pulled away from my lips. “i-is this okay?”

i happily agreed, biting down on my bottom lip. after a second or two, i pulled peter back into my embrace allowing our lips to reconnect. i could tell peter was growing desperate for my touch as his kisses became hungrier. i could feel him weakly tugging at my waist, peters fingers gently digging into my skin.

slowly, with the help of peter, i slide over onto his waist. while i re-positioned myself over peters lap, i felt his tongue glid against my bottom lip. as i tugged on the back of peters hair a weak moan came from peters lips. almost instantly, peter pulled away more then embarrassed.

"i-i'm sorry. i don't know where that ca-"

"it's okay." i smiled, causing peter to take in a shallow breath.

both of our heavy breathes filled the room for just a moment before our breaths began to slow. after a moment i had noticed how peters eyes were fixated on my lips. his hands hadn’t moved from my hips causing a weak smile to appear on my lips. in fact peter hadn’t moved an inch since he pulled away.

“did you want me to stop?” i asked, with a small smirk.

peters breath hitched for just a moment before he slowly began to shake his head. i leant in, taking a slower approach and not wanting to rush peter. as our lips reconnected peters urges grew as his kiss grew more heated with every passing moment. small, soft moans managed to escape my lips as my body squirmed in peters lap.

within minutes, i felt something harden beneath me, causing me to smile into the kiss. before peter could do or say anything there was a loud firm knock at my apartment door.

“oh come on!” i muttered as i stood up, beginning to march towards the front door.

“open up l/n!” a voice shouted from the other side.

i quickly turned around and ran back towards peter, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards my bathroom.

“lock yourself inside.” i whispered, pushing peter into the bathroom.

“what- who is that?” peter asked in a hushed voice as he tried to cover himself.

“peter, lock the door.” i snapped before pulling the bathroom door closed.

“l/n!” the voice yelled, banging on the door again.

quickly erasing any trace of peter, i walked up to my door before looking through the glass hole to find nick fury standing on the other side of the door.

“fury?” i frowned as i swung the door open. “i thought you were-”

“we need you to find yelena and the other widows.” nick cut her off.

“wha-what no. how do you know about yelena?” i frowned. “wait, i’m not helping you!” i spat.

“i’m not working with ross.” nick spoke quietly.

“i don’t care, now please leave before i have to call tony.” i sighed.

“okay.” he mumbled. “i’ll see you around soldier.”

nick gave me one last nod before leaving my apartment, closing the door behind him. as i let out a deep sigh before remembering peter was locked in my bathroom.

“shit.” i mumbled, running over to my bathroom before tapping on the door. “peter?” i called.

i got no response causing me to knock on the door again. no response. grabbing into the silver door knob, i pushed the door open slowly not wanting to startle peter.

“peter?” i called again, pushing the door back against the wall to find the bathroom completely empty. “shit.” i mumbled, quickly walking back to the living room to grab her phone off the coffee table.

p. parker

sounded important

p.parker

see you monday?

master list

part two

#peter parker mcu #marvel cinematic universe #peter parker #spider man #spider man mcu #peter parker x reader #avengers #tom holland #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker fan fiction #fan fic author #fan fiction #ao3 #spiderman homecoming #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #iron man #tony stark #spiderman civil war #tom holland x reader

[starryevermore]

alright, babygirl. finally worked this out- can i request my man peter parker with a pregnant (emetophobic) reader with him comforting her and keeping her sane through the pregnancy and also how he helps with other common pregnancy issues like swollen feet and back issues and lifting heavy stuff (maybe feature something of them decorating baby's room 🥺)?

- ☕

peter taking care of pregnant!reader ✧ peter parker

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: alright, babygirl. finally worked this out- can i request my man peter parker with a pregnant (emetophobic) reader with him comforting her and keeping her sane through the pregnancy and also how he helps with other common pregnancy issues like swollen feet and back issues and lifting heavy stuff (maybe feature something of them decorating baby's room 🥺)? - ☕ - quinns-wndrlnd

pairing: peter parker x pregnant!fem!reader

word count: 292

warnings?: pregnant!reader, fluff

peter would be the most dedicated partner when you’re pregnant. he was already a wonderful partner, but once he finds out you’re having his child, he makes sure that he takes every step to be the best father he possibly can. 

peter hadn’t had the greatest of luck in the dad department. his own father passed away when he was young. then his uncle ben had passed away, too. even his mentor tony stark passed away. 

but peter swore he would be the best father he could be. 

he’d bought practically every parenting book he could find (or, at least, the ones that were the most highly recommended). he attended every doctor’s appointment. he ran out to get any food you were craving. 

when you were suffering from bad bouts of morning sickness, he was there to hold back your hair, to rub your back. 

though peter didn’t look it in the same way his fellow superheroes did, he was incredibly strong, so when your feet ached, he carried you everywhere you needed to go. 

he would rub your feet and ankles when they were swollen. he would give you back massages when you would come home from work. 

peter even took up cooking lessons so that you wouldn’t need to be up on your feet for very long. 

and, oh, when it came time to decorate the nursery, that might have been peter’s favorite part of it all. he loved picking out the paint color, the decorations, the crib. he loved every part of it. he loved knowing that he had a future with you, that the two of you were bringing life into the world. and he couldn’t wait. 

but, of course, the part he loved the most was you.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x female reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #starrywrites #starryevermore

[kurogxrix]

me when the READER in the X READER has a name:

like babe the fic ate but i do NOT look like an Aurora🙁

#bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x reader #bruce wayne x reader #din djarin x reader #steve harrington x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #joel miller x reader #writing #fan fiction #fanfic #authors of tumblr #kurogxrix talks

[slytherheign]

FEARLESS | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

SUMMARY: loving peter in secret for far too long becomes exhausting for you when you think he will never love you back. in order to distract yourself from your growing feelings, you start to follow a friend’s suggestion—not knowing that it will only cause you harm.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, manipulation, fire, unhealthy obsession/toxic ex, and canon-typical violence. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 16+]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title + i mixed it with a plot from this request sent by @willowhaired (thanks for requesting! hope it’s okay that i didn’t follow some things in your request. i changed some parts in order to match with taylor’s song). btw, this is angst with happy ending. enjoy reading!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS FEARLESS (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

“Class dismissed!” you heard your teacher announce. The rain that was pouring down outside was heavy and your eyes widened when you realized that you forgot to bring an umbrella. Your seatmate, Peter Parker, who just happened to be your neighbor and your biggest crush, turned to look at you. He seemed to notice the slight panic in your eyes. “Come with me,” he offered.

“Really?” you asked.

“Well, I have an umbrella and a car. You don’t…” he paused. “Unless you want to walk in the rain by yourself. It’s your choice,” he teased. 

“Oh no–please,” you laughed. “I’ll go with you.”

“Come on then,” he said, putting your notebooks in your bag and then picking it up before he stood up. There he was again, being the gentleman that he was, doing the exact same things that made you fall in love with him. 

You and Peter weren’t best friends, but you two were close. Being neighbors since you were children played a huge part in that. You would never tell him, but he was actually your first crush. The first boy who made your heart jump since then and until now. When you were 6 years old, you told him you loved him while you two were playing, you were too young to know the deep meaning of the word “love” back then. In response, he told you that he loved you too because you were like a little sister he never had.

You remembered that response as you grew up, always reminding yourself that he would never love you back in the same way you loved him. And because you were too scared to risk and lose the relationship you two had, you were fine with being his little sister as long as it meant getting to be close to him.

It hurt you. Being close to him but never close enough to touch him in the ways you wanted to. You have seen him get in and out of relationships, let him cry on your shoulders when someone broke his heart. You have always been there through ups and downs, offering advice to him for his relationships to work. Little did he know, your heart shattered each and every time.

You had a couple of ex-boyfriends, both of them breaking up with you before the relationship could even last a year. One of those men was Harry Osborn, who just happened to be Peter’s best friend. You were sad, of course, but it was probably better because you knew that you couldn’t give your all to those relationships. You tried to find Peter in those men you dated, and it was probably why those relationships didn’t work out. 

Peter opened the umbrella in one hand while his other carried your bag; his bag was on his back. He made a gesture for you to come closer and you did. The rain was harsh but you paid it no mind, there was a glow off the pavement as he walked you to the car. He opened the door for you when he reached the car, and you went in immediately.

The close distance between the two of you and the confined space of the car made the smell of him strongly enter your senses. The sensation of his presence made the hair on your skin stand up unsolicitedly. As you drove down the road, you wondered if he knew just how you were trying so hard not to get caught up with your feelings and just kiss him. He was just so cool, he didn’t even realize how he absentmindedly made you want him when he ran his hands through his hair. God, how could a man be this beautiful?

It could get better than this, you knew that. It could get better than you longing for him behind the curtains. But you were terrified. You were deeply in love with him, but you could never imagine him loving you back. 

After that rainy day, Peter offered to drive you home from school daily. You were hesitant, scared that the more time you’d spend with him, the more you’d hurt your heart. But before you could say no, your mouth muttered the opposite of what you wanted to say. You agreed.

You wished for more than the road trips, but for now, you would settle for the slow drives from the school to your home, capturing and remembering every moment you were in his passenger seat.

You knew you could always tell him what you truly felt, but it was always a matter of fear.

If there was one thing Peter knew about his enemies, it was that they always come for the ones he loved the most. That was why he didn’t tell anyone yet that he was in love with you. The only person who knew except himself was his best friend, Harry. He liked to believe that no secrets existed between the two of them. They were inseparable since the first year of high school when they first met each other. Right now, they were seniors and everything remained the same.

He could not be any more wrong. See, Harry was madly in love with you. When you dated him, he felt like the happiest man in the world but he always noticed that you loved another man. And when he saw the way you looked at Peter, he knew. He made plans in secret to hurt the two of you. If he couldn’t have you, then Peter couldn’t have you either.

For a while, he was skeptical of his plan. He didn’t want to do it anymore. He loved you and Peter was his best friend, he didn’t want to continue his plan any longer. Besides, the only thing he knew was that you were in love with Peter, his best friend probably didn’t feel the same towards you…

But then Peter decided to tell him that he was in love with you, and… well, that made him angry. 

He decided his plan would continue.

You remained friends with Harry even after breaking up with him. The breakup was mutual and there were no hard feelings. Just yesterday, he made a joke that you have been single for a long time and that you should download a dating app. You disagreed immediately, telling him that you were never a fan of dating apps. But then he said something that changed your mind.

“You should at least try. Surely, you can’t wait for that person forever?” 

He definitely knew you were in love with his best friend. And with the tone in his voice when he said that suggestion, it made you think that Peter didn’t feel the same. If there was someone who would know if Peter was in love with someone, it would be Harry. You knew they never kept secrets from each other. 

So you did what he suggested. You downloaded a dating app, and in an instant, you were already matched with someone named Nick. You talked to him for months, pretending to be interested in every conversation he tried to start. Nick was nice, you shared a few hobbies and interests but he wasn’t Peter. It was hard to find someone when the only one your heart wanted was Peter. 

And then Nick asked to meet up with you. You didn’t want to. You told Harry about it and he said to give it a go. “If you never try, you never know, right? Just wear your best dress and imagine it was Peter,” he advised. You smiled in return, before texting Nick to accept his offer.

A week prior to your meetup, you found yourself constantly texting Nick, just talking about each other’s lives casually.

Can’t wait to see you next week 😉

You chuckled a little bit as you entered Peter’s car. Another school day has ended. Peter entered the car next. You put your phone in your lap as you adjusted your seatbelt.

Just wear your best dress, and I’ll take care of the rest ❤️

Unbeknownst to you, Peter got a glimpse of your text messages. He felt his mood change in an instant, but he tried not to show it to you. However, it was very obvious because he did not talk to you for the whole ride home. He would glance at you every once and a while but you were too busy exchanging messages with Nick on your phone to notice. 

“We’re here,” he said with no enthusiasm in his voice. He got out of the car before making his way to your side and opening the door for you. You quickly shut your phone off and got out of the car. “Thank you,” you smiled at him but he just nodded. He didn’t even look into your eyes. Maybe he was just having a bad day, you thought.

You knew something was off when he didn’t walk you up to your door. “Pete, is everything okay?” you asked.

“Huh? uh–yeah. Just having a bad day. Don’t wanna talk about it,” he answered simply.

“Oh okay…” you proceeded to go into your house. Something inside you wanted to go back to him but you stopped yourself before you could even run to where he was standing and hug him right there. He didn’t want to talk about it, he probably wanted to be alone at the moment.

“Thank you!” you yelled, smiling as you waved him goodbye from the door of your house. Peter met your eyes for the first time that day, he smiled a little before waving in return. He left as soon as you closed the door.

“How’s your day?” your mom asked you the moment you closed the door. “All fine,” you smiled, walking towards her before hugging her. “That was Peter again, right? What’s going on between you two?” she teased. You didn’t answer, and instead ran up the stairs and went straight to your room. Your mother laughed at your reaction.

You locked your room and changed into a more comfortable outfit. You repeated your mother’s question in your head as you sat on your bed. What really was going on between you and Peter? To be honest, you didn’t know. You still loved him. Your heart still called his name. Nick was just a distraction—a distraction you hoped would be enough to stop your growing feelings towards Peter.

Suddenly, a notification popped on your phone. A new message from Nick and Harry. You first opened Nick’s message, it was just the location for your meetup next week. The next one you opened was Harry’s.

Did Nick send you an address yet for next week? Can you update me?

You quickly typed a reply.

What a coincidence. He actually just sent me the address but it’s unfamiliar to me. Why do you want to know?

You saw the three dots on your phone that told you he was typing. It stopped for a long while, it was almost like he was contemplating what he was going to send. The dots showed up again after some time until he sent a message.

I think I know where that address is. Should I take you there?

He didn’t answer your question. Nonetheless, you were glad for his offer.

Really, you would do that? Thank you! ❤️

A WEEK LATER.

Peter was doing what he always did, sitting on a rooftop ledge as Spider-Man, looking at the city as he waited for someone who needed his help. Everything was peaceful for a while, it was just him, the wind, and the buzzing noises from cars and people. His eyes caught something familiar. A car heading into a part of New York where not many people went. It didn’t take him a long time to realize that it was Harry’s car. He swung quietly through buildings, settling on one where he could see the car more properly. 

There you were, sitting in the passenger seat of a car heading into an almost abandoned part of the town. His senses immediately alerted him of danger. He watched as the car stopped in front of an abandoned house. He saw Harry guiding you into the house and he sneakily entered it from one of the windows. He settled behind a table, a place where he could observe you without you noticing.

You were wearing a black dress that highlighted the shape of your body. You already were beautiful for him, but seeing you in that dress made him aware that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. He could spend his day just staring lovingly at you if it wasn’t for the current situation. 

He saw the confusion on your face as you looked around the empty building. It was then the moment Peter realized that today was the day you were meeting up with Nick. The only problem was Nick wasn’t here and it was just an empty building, and he could tell by the look of your face that you were close to panicking. 

Just as Peter started to stand up and walk towards you, Harry entered the building with a wide smirk plastered on his face. Peter quickly returned to his hiding position.

You pulled out your phone from your purse and called the number Nick gave you. At the exact same time, you heard someone’s phone ringing in the building. You turned to where the sound was. It came from Harry, he was laughing. And then he showed you a phone in his hand with your name on it as the caller. You ended the phone call, and the ringing on Harry’s phone also stopped.

“Harry, what’s going on?” you started to take a few steps back. “Where’s Nick?”

“There’s no Nick,” he admitted, a sly smile showing on his face. “I made it all up.”

“But–why?” you were starting to tear up. This place was not familiar to you. The more you looked around, the more you realized that escaping was not an option. There was one open window but it was far from your position. There was also a huge fallen table blocking it.

Peter stood up from his position and silently moved closer to where you were. He took advantage of the shadows and his spider-like abilities to move without having any of you notice it. Suddenly, he felt his foot touch a liquid substance. It was gasoline, it came from a hose that was close to his hiding spot. His eyes tried to trace where the hose came from but his spot gave him a limited view. He knew it was from outside the house but he didn’t know exactly where.   

In just seconds, the house smelled like gasoline, and the floor was flooded with it. Apparently, the hose that Peter discovered wasn’t the only one. There were a lot scattered around the house and they released the liquid substance at the same time.

“Do you smell that?” Harry snickered. “I know you do. It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I planned this all by myself. I even installed the hoses.”

“Harry, what the fuck are you doing?” you questioned.

“Taking back what’s mine,” he replied. “I love you, Y/N. I never stopped.”

He stepped closer. “Take me back. Be with me again,” he demanded.

“You’re fucking insane. Get away from me.”

“And if I don’t want to?” he mockingly asked.

“Harry–stop. Please. We’re still friends, right? W-we can still be f-friends,” you shakingly tried to reason out. He only shook his head. 

“Say you love me and you can still leave this house breathing,” he warned.

“Harry–”

“Say it.”

You shook your head, frustrated tears were coming out of your eyes.

“Say. It.”

“No–” you whispered.

“No?” he asked.

“No,” you answered sternly. You would rather die than spend your life stuck with him.

“Then you leave me with no choice but to–” he pulled out a lighter from his jacket. Your eyes widened. 

Someone from the shadows shot out a web to Harry’s hand, preventing him to move his hand and light the object he held. Spider-Man soon stepped out of the shadows. “Get out, Y/N,” you heard Spider-Man demand you and you instantly ran straight to the door. You didn’t even dare to question how he knew your name.

The door was locked as expected. While Spider-Man and Harry fought, you tried to look around for something that would help you destroy the handle. Your eyes caught a crowbar covered in gasoline laying on the floor close to a wall. You made your way to it cautiously, careful not to let yourself get caught up with Harry and Spider-Man. For a moment, you saw the lighter escape Harry’s hand as Spider-Man punched his face but your focus was on the crowbar so you just let them deal with themselves.

You did your best to hit the door forcefully with the tool when you returned, but it was hard to break since the crowbar was covered in gasoline which made it slip from your hand almost every time. All of a sudden, Harry was able to retrieve the lighter and flicked it. As soon as the fire showed itself, he threw it on the floor.

The next thing you knew, the house was on fire and smoke filled the air. It was getting hard to breathe, even Harry was coughing weakly. You tried to shift your attention to the door again. This time, trying even harder to open it. You kicked, threw your body weight on it, and hit it with the crowbar again, but it only managed to do little to the door. 

When the smoke increasingly spread in the house, Spider-Man felt that his mask was suffocating him. To be able to breathe more properly, Peter decided to remove the mask from his face. He wasn’t worried about showing his face, Harry was already passed out, and you were busy breaking down the door. Besides, he was already planning on telling you he was Spider-Man some of these days, he might as well do it now.

After a more few tries, you eventually managed to break the door handle and kick the door open. You were about to call Spider-Man to alert him but the words got stuck in your throat upon seeing his face.

Peter looked up as he felt you staring at him. “Get out of here, Y/N!” he yelled.

It seemed that your feet were stuck on the floor and your mind stopped making rational decisions because you stayed there in shock. “Peter?” you spoke.

“Y/N, GET OUT! LEAVE!” he yelled again. His voice made you jump and you instantly followed his demand. You left the house still thinking of him. You were already starting to walk to your house when your heart ached out of being worried for Peter. “Fuck it,” you whispered under your breath. You turned back, making your way back to the burning house. You called the authorities on the way.

Peter was still inside when you returned. You squinted your eyes, hoping to see more of him through the fire. He was carrying Harry, trying to get him out of the house but he was struggling because of the fire that surrounded him. 

This was the part where the brain fought with the heart. Your mind was pleading for you to go home, save yourself, and get a good night’s sleep. But your heart insisted on staying, helping Peter, and putting yourself in danger.

Your heart only needed to softly whisper Peter’s name, and you were already all in.  

And so, you entered the house fearlessly.

You used your arms to cover your head from the falling debris as you made your way to Peter. His eyes did a double take as soon as he saw you. “What the fuck are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to leave?!” he questioned, worry and stress showing through his voice.

You ignored his questions and instead insisted on helping him carry Harry out of the house. You were both silent even after the job was done. For a while, it was just you, Peter, a passed-out Harry, the house that was on fire, and the sky that decided to rain.

After a few minutes, you heard the sirens that alerted you that the authorities were arriving at the scene. Peter looked at you as if to ask if you called them, and you nodded in response. He put on his mask again.

You watched as the firemen dealt with the burning house. Peter, now back to being Spider-Man, talked with the authorities about Harry and what happened. Harry was still passed out and being carried to an ambulance that would direct him to the hospital to get treated before he would face the consequences of his actions. As for you, you sat in the ambulance getting checked by the medics. You didn’t have any major injuries, just minor ones. When they offered to get you to the hospital just to be sure, you politely declined them and insisted on staying with Spider-Man.

It was as if the universe decided to help with the burning house because the rain decided to turn into a storm. You found a bench close to the house for you to sit on. The storm was getting harsher, but you refused to leave the place without Peter. You just crossed your arms to cope with the growing cold the wind delivered.

After waiting for a few more moments, the house wasn’t on fire anymore and the authorities left the scene for the day. As soon as they left, Peter removed the mask and walked towards the bench you were silently sitting on. “I would offer you a coat, but I don’t have one,” he stopped in front of you. 

You looked up at him, standing up so you could look at him properly. “You okay?” you asked, noticing a few bruises on his face. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Are you?” he asked softly.

“I’m fine… still kind of shocked though. Didn’t expect my day to turn out like this,” you told him.

“Why were you using a dating app in the first place?” he asked jokingly.

You knew he was only teasing, but his question struck a nerve in you. To forget you, you wanted to say. Sorry for the mess, I only wanted to fucking forget you. Sorry for trying to move on. Sorry because I fucking love you.        

Instead, you answered with another question. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me you’re Spider-Man?” your voice raised unintentionally.

His eyebrows furrowed with the tone of your voice. He tried to get closer to you but you stepped back, rolling your eyes. “Why is your ex fucking insane?!” he matched your attitude.

You scoffed. “Why is your best friend fucking insane?!”

“I–stop. Y/N,” he said softly. He realized from the way you were shaking that you were probably stressed and traumatized because of what happened. His suspicions were confirmed when you suddenly broke down crying. He instantly covered your fragile body with his frame. He hugged you tightly, letting you sob all the stress and frustration away. It was still storming, but none of you cared. 

“Shhh,” Peter cooed. When your crying stopped, he held your face with his hands. “Why did you go back?” he asked, looking into your eyes.

“Because I wanted to help you,” you answered.

“And? I know that’s not the only reason you did it.”

You debated on whether to tell him the truth or lie your way out of the conversation. But after the stunt you pulled earlier, you knew Peter wasn’t stupid and would realize the truth sooner.

“Because I care for you. In ways I cannot describe,” you answered truthfully.

“Why do you care for me?” he asked.

“Peter…”

“I need you to say it,” he whispered close to your face. Your nose was close to touching his.

“I won’t because I know you don’t feel the same,” you closed your eyes.

“Open your eyes.”

You opened your eyes.

“Look at me.”

You did what he said.

“Say it.”

It was time to tell him, without fear.

“I love you.”

Peter smiled, before pulling your face closer to him and kissing you hard. Your eyes widened, not expecting him to kiss you. All along, you thought your love was one-sided, but the kiss you were sharing right now proved otherwise. It was your first kiss with him and it was flawless. You closed your eyes and deepened the kiss, you only pulled away when you needed to catch your breath.

“How are you feeling right now?” he smirked. “Did I kiss all your worries away?” he teased.

“I don’t think there’s a word that could do justice to what I’m feeling right now,” you chuckled. “I’m so happy–I feel like my heart is dancing. I could dance right now.”

“Really?” he asked, a clever smile showing up on his face. Suddenly, he offered a hand in front of you. “May I ask you for a dance?”

You accepted his offer. The only music was the storm as it loudly poured on the pavement, but none of you minded it. You swayed with him, giggling as you stared fondly at each other. 

You were wearing your best dress, dancing with Peter in a harsh cruel storm, taking each other’s hands as you both drag yourselves head first into your lives and hearts. To be honest, you didn’t how it would get better than this.  

“Can I tell you something, Y/N?” he asked, gracefully turning you.

“Of course,” you smiled.

“My heart races for you so fast that I just need to let this out–I love you. I love you so much. I want to spend every day with you. When you’re sad, I want to be the one you run to. When you’re happy, I want to be the reason why. When you’re sick, I want to be the one who takes care of you. When you’re in trouble, I want to be the one who saves you.”

You stroked his cheek lovingly. “I love you too, Peter. I’ve admired you ever since we were children and up until now. When I think of my future and who I want to spend it with–it’s you. It’s always been you. I’m afraid of rejection, that was why I didn’t tell you the moment I knew I have feelings for you. I was always scared that you would turn me down. That’s why all these years I chose to love you behind your back. But now… now that all’s been said and done, I’m not afraid anymore. If what you’re asking me is to enter your life as your partner, then I’ll do it fearlessly.”

He turned you one last time, before putting a hand on your back and on the back of your thigh, gently bending you backwards so he could kiss you deeply once again. Each time he pulled you in his arms, you got a little more brave. As it turned out, all it took for your heart to not be fearful was Peter.

Love really was fearless.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan @willowhaired @sflame15-blog @pompeygirl89 @remuslupinsdocs

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[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part three // spitfire

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

WARNINGS - 18+, minors DNI

WORD COUNT - 4.5k

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

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

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

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

Both boys had a fervent interest in all things nerd. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not abuse-” 

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

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

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

The expression on his face is downright laughable. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not yet, at least. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you need anything, call 911.” 

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

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

You could definitely get used to having him around. 

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

Something was wrong. Very wrong. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The room was messy, but empty. 

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

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

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

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

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

You think of how you should follow that advice. 

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

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

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

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

So this must be Peter 2. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But not him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better not push your luck, Spitfire,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pete.”

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

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

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

#peter parker imagine #no way home imagine #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fic #peter parker one shot #mcu imagine #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfiction #andrew!peter imagine #tom!peter imagine #tobey!peter imagine #tom!peter x reader #andrew!peter x reader #tobey!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman fic #peter parker #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #andrew garfield #tobey maguire #tom holland #spiderman headcanon #spiderman imagines #tasm imagine #tasm imagines #raimiverse imagine

[shawnxstyles]

Can you write a condescending peter smut where he flirts every chance gets even grabbing the readers hand and kissing it while they hand him something minor (like a piece of clothing)

sweetheart

warnings: smut; (f- receiving [fingering, slight oral], dirty talk) some fluff

note: this is a small request i mustered up since i haven’t posted any writings in like a MONTH i’m so so sorry! part 2!

—

after you both walk through the door, you take off his jacket that he let you borrow. it was nice and warm in peter’s apartment, so you didn’t need it anymore. he gently shuts the door. it was a chilly night outside, and peter asked if you wanted to come over to work on a project. you said yes, because you’ve had the fattest crush on peter since freshman year. now, as a senior, you’re finally getting to know him more.

it felt like a movie.

“thank you for letting me use your jacket,” you hand him his jacket that you lousily folded in a few seconds, and he smiles endearly. his smile made your heart melt, and it made you feel all fuzzy inside.

“always,” he accepts the jacket, but what catches you by surprise is when he grabs your hand. his fingers brush delicately under your palm as he leans down towards it. unexpectedly, he gently kisses the top of your hand, sending butterflies through each system of your body.

he tosses the jacket over the couch and stands in front of you. you were holding your breath, still trying to figure out why he kissed you and why you felt your heart beating at an erratic pace.

is this what it feels like to go into cardiac arrest? is this cardiac arrest? are you dying?

“you’re nervous,” peter observes, stroking a strand of hair behind your ear. you didn’t know of peter’s superhuman abilities, but he could hear the fast pace of your heart since you’ve walked through the door. his eyes wander curiously over your facial features. “why?”

do you just tell him? what if he doesn’t feel the same? but he did just kiss your hand…

“i don’t really know,” in all honesty, you knew it was peter that made you nervous. but you didn’t know why peter was making you nervous. he was just so… captivating and you liked the way that he acted around you.

since you’ve been getting to know him more, he’s always been flirty with you. sometimes it’s subtle, but other times it’s blatantly obvious, like the kiss on the hand. being the naive girl you were, you just assumed he was like that with everyone, that that’s just who he was; a flirt.

so maybe what you’re nervous about is if you’re wrong about peter. what if he’s not just a flirt and he really wants to be with you? well, the idea of that makes you nervous.

“don’t lie, baby,” baby slips from his lips so naturally it causes your heart to skip a beat. does he call everyone baby? you didn’t know, but you didn’t spend too much time thinking about it. peter’s hand lifted up to caress your cheek softly as he attempted to coax answers out of you. “what’s on your mind?”

“um, things,” things was an understatement. you were thinking of all the possible things he could do with those hands. as his rough skin repeatedly circled the supple skin of your cheek, the dirtiest images flashed through your mind. you imagined peter slipping that same hand down your torso and into your jeans and discovering your wet panties. he would rub your clit over and over and then slide his calloused fingers inside easily.

your cunt is drenched just thinking about him touching you, you couldn’t imagine how wet you would be if he actually was…

“are you thinking about me?” peter’s hand rests still on your cheek as his eyes stare directly into yours. your eyes widen in shock, like he can read your thoughts. the smell of your arousal heightens peter’s senses, so he knows you’re thinking about something.

“i…”

his hand falls from your face and travels down to your hip. it slips under the hem of your loose t-shirt and massages the smooth skin of your waist. your breath hitches in your throat from the contact, nervous for his next move. you wanted him to do something, anything. peter leans closer to your ear as your back hits the nearby wall.

“what are you thinking about?” the gravelly rasp of his voice and the low volume nearly make you moan out loud right there. your lower belly burns in desire, desperate for more of his touch. his nose rubs at your temple as if he was going to kiss it.

“you. i am thinking about you,” you admit breathlessly. “please do something.”

peter begins peppering your neck in kisses, making your hands crawl up into his hair. you release your pent-up breath, which comes out in shaky sighs.

“what do you want me to do?” he comes off of you for a moment to ask.

“touch me more, please,” you whisper in the quiet living room. when you’re both not talking, you swear you could hear the sporadic beat of your heart.

“but i am touching you, no?” peter slips both of his rough hands under your shirt. his thumbs swipe over your bra, feeling your hardened nipples under the fabric. you gasp quietly as he continues the action. “tell me exactly what you want, and i might just give it to you.”

your nipples hardened more painfully at his tedious movements, needing more to feel satisfied. your brain was too scrambled at the idea that this was actually happening. you couldn’t think to describe where you wanted him to touch you. you saw a movie called everything, everywhere, all at once and thought that title described it well.

you were so caught up in your own head that you never gave peter an answer. but how could you? it’s embarrassing.

“how about i guess,” it wasn’t a question but a statement. peter insists that he guesses where you wanted to be touched because clearly, you were too embarrassed to answer him. you nod your head shakily as his hands slowly move south of your body.

he tugs the ends of your shirt as a sign to remove it, and you do. his hands roam your figure until they hook onto your jeans. with one certain look in his eye, your pants were on the floor and you were left standing in your undergarments, hot and bothered.

“here?” he guesses as his thumbs rub painfully delicate circles on your hip bones. you shake your head. peter drags his hands down, missing your aching clit. his fingers squeeze the plush skin of your thighs, coaxing a small mewl from you. “here?”

“no, higher,” you directed with a whine. peter smirks slyly, but listens to you. his hands, however, don’t, and go all the way back up to your bra. peter teases you by caressing and squeezing the fabric. you groan, annoyed at his edging. “lower.”

he smiles, as his fingers drift until they’re touching your panties. your breath hitches in your throat.

as his palm rubs over your mound, his fingers finally land on your clit. you let out a large sigh as he circles the throbbing bud. naturally, you spread your legs and welcome him to your vulnerability.

“is it here, sweetheart?” peter condescends as his fingers get faster. the friction of your underwear and the pace of his fingers was enough to make you spiral.

“yes. feels so good,” your hand clutches onto his shoulder, holding yourself up. your body squirms above his digits, subconsciously grinding on him.

your stomach burns deliciously, waiting for that impendable sensation. your eyes close as you focus solely on the feeling of his movements.

“i need more, please,” you breathlessly beg, trying to tug your panties down. his fingers press against your aching hole, soaked with your juices that are desperate for him. when he pushes your hand away, you unclip your bra and toss it on the ground. peter can’t help but roll your pebbled nipples between his digits for a few moments before dragging them back down your body.

“patience, sweetheart.”

you whine at the nickname and the condescending tone that easily rolls off of his tongue. you tried being patient, but you’ve never been so turned on in your life. it was nearly making you hallucinate.

peter could sense your deep desperation to be touched, and he didn’t want his girl to go unsatisfied.

yes, you were now his girl. and soon hopefully, you would know that.

peter teasingly pulls down your panties, a line of arousal sticking to the fabric from your cunt. as the chilly night breezes through the ajar window, you hiss as a cool wind blows over your naked body.

“you cold, baby?” he whispers.

“y-yes,” you stutter out as you push your body into his hand.

“i think i can warm you up,” with that, his hand dips in between your legs. his calloused fingers rub the sensible skin of your pussy before he easily slips a finger inside of you.

it was almost embarrassing how easily he could do it.

you moan needily as his middle finger thrusts inside of you. peter wiggles it back and forth in such a way, your legs want to collapse and completely give in to the feeling. pumping in and out. rough texture rubbing against your walls. it was almost too good to be true, you couldn’t believe it was real.

in too much a haze, you don’t see him slip another finger in, but you definitely feel it. his thick digits were filling you perfectly. but would you be greedy if you wished it was his cock?

that burning, bubbling sensation strained in your lower belly, alerting you that you were close. you squeezed tightly around peter’s fingers, and you could practically feel his satisfied smirk.

“i’m so close,” you pant as your hands grab on to anything and everything around you.

“touch yourself,” he commanded, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “c’mon. you can do that, can’t you?”

as you said yes, peter’s fingers increased their speed, so your words came out squeaky. you reached a shaky hand down to your puffy clit and began rubbing small circles over it. your core clenched snuggly around him once again because of the overwhelming amount of pleasure. you throw your head back against the wall, mumbling profanities as you come undone.

you felt your body release all of your stresses and thoughts. not a single thing was on your mind. you felt so comfortable with peter, even when he made your heart race like a jumpscare.

“i’m going to clean you up, okay?” peter reassured, and you smiled wearily. you assumed he would’ve gotten some tissues or something, but like earlier, he surprised you.

peter kneeled down to face your cunt, all sensitive and soaked. he parts your legs and attaches his mouth to you. you gasp squeakily, as he slurps all your juices. the sounds were more erotic than his fingers pounding into you minutes before.

but what was more erotic and arousing than a man on his knees for you? not much.

when he pops off of you, you whine, cold and sensitive. peter hands you some of your clothes on the ground before standing back up.

“what about you?” you ask, seeing that he’s fully dressed and not going further. you were a little disappointed because you wanted more.

okay, maybe you were a little greedy…

“i was focusing on you, baby,” his words make a wave of heat crawl up your neck and up to your ears. your heart skipped a beat like every other time he flirts with you.

“but i want to…”

“how about we finish this project and then we can continue?” peter suggests, caressing his warm palm on your cheek. you practically purred into his touch, melting into him. in all honesty, you had forgotten about the project entirely.

you were so blissed out you didn’t even remember that you were a student. with peter, you were just a girl and a boy; two people that had great chemistry.

“sounds like a plan,” you smile and peter feels his heart race. you were his dream come true. and now, he finally had you. you just didn’t know yet.

—

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

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnxstyles #tom holland #peter parker #tom holland smut #tom holland fan fiction #peter parker smut #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker x you #tom holland x you #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #peter parker fan fics #tom holland fan fics #tom holland blurbs #peter parker blurbs

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Waiting For Someone Better

Pairing: Tom!Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Prom is right around the corner, and you're waiting for someone special to ask you.

Squares Filled: free space for @spider-man-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You keep your head down when you enter school because you don’t like the attention on yourself. However, when you see Peter at his locker, you bounce over to him, ignoring the stares you get.

“Hey, Peter,” you grin.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” he stutters.

God, he’s so cute when he’s nervous.

“I missed you this weekend. I don’t like to study alone.”

“I’m sorry. I had something come up with my aunt, and it was this whole thing. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it,” he shakes his head and puts his books into his locker.

“Nah, I get it. You better make it this weekend.”

“I promise,” he smiles.

You stand there in awkward silence because you’re waiting for him to say something to you. Prom is next month and you still have no date for it. Peter gives you a side glance but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Okay, I’ll see you in class.”

“See ya,” he smiles.

Ned waits until you leave before joining his best friend’s side.

“Did you do it?”

“No,” Peter sighs.

“Why not? You had the perfect opportunity! You better do it soon before someone else asks her. I know Flash was looking at her the other day.”

“What?” Peter swivels his head to his best friend. “No, he wasn’t. Shut up. I’ll ask her.”

“Better be today.”

Peter and Ned say their goodbyes before Peter heads to his science class which he has with you… and Flash. You two have been lab partners for the whole year so maybe he’ll ask you during class. You smile when he walks in and his whole day suddenly gets better.

This class is meant to catch up on your project which you’re struggling with. Peter is so smart that this kind of stuff comes easily to him, so you’re hoping he can do a better job at explaining it to you than the teacher can.

“I really don’t understand this. Can you explain it to me so I can do my part better?” you ask him in a low voice.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers with a smile. “I’ll do it for you.”

He takes out the chemicals to make the special mixture and you watch with admiration at how easily this comes to him.

“I admire how smart you are. I wish I could be that.”

Peter lowers his head so you don’t see the blush on his cheeks and ears. There is a lot of chatter in the classroom as everyone tries to work on their projects so if Peter wants to ask you, then he can do it now without a bunch of people overhearing him. He’s going to do it. He has to do it now before someone else asks you.

He lifts his head and looks at you but no words can come out of his mouth. Flash is behind you just staring at you which makes him even all the more shy about this.

“So, Prom is next month,” you say and he snaps his eyes to you.

“I know,” he nods. “You’re on the committee for it, right?”

“Yeah. Are you going to go?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Are you/”

“Well, no one has asked me yet.”

You’d think the stare you’re giving Peter would be enough to tell him to ask you but he doesn’t. In fact, he can barely look at you. Maybe he doesn’t like you. You take this as your sign that you should move on to someone else.

When class ends, you and Peter pack up your things and are about to leave when Flash stops you.

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

“I’ll catch up with you later,” you say to Peter who only nods. You could have sworn you saw a look of disappointment but you could be wrong. “What’s up?”

“Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush. Want to go to Prom with me?” There is something about the way he’s asking that gives you the ick. It’s like he’s cocky and is only doing this because he knows it’ll piss Peter off. Peter might not want to go with you but that doesn’t mean you’ll resort to Flash. You open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it. “Before you answer, tell me one thing. I beat Peter to it, huh?”

“Even if you did, there is no way I’d go to Prom with you.”

You leave Flash hanging and walk away from him to go to your next class. You didn’t see Peter for the rest of the school day since you only had science with him, and you didn’t see him after class since you had to go to your part-time job right after.

Your dad owns a men’s suit store in town that is very popular with the older folk, and he allowed you to be a cashier to make extra money and save up for something you really want like a car or a laptop. The first hour is pretty slow since everyone is still at work so you’re just moving about the store and tidying up the clothes as you see fit.

The bell on top of the door rings when someone enters, and you look to see Peter walk in.

“Peter? What are you doing here?” you chuckle.

“I’m looking for a suit to wear to Prom.”

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.” Over the next ten minutes, he wanders the store and keeps sighing, indicating he’d like for you to ask him what’s wrong. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You’re about to leave to clean when he stops you. “So, you’re going to Prom with Flash?”

“And if I am?” you chuckle.

This time, you don’t miss the look of jealousy that flashes over his face. 

“No big deal.”

Okay, this is just too fun. The longer you go without saying something, the more Peter is fuming. It gets to a point where you have to put him out of his misery.

“I’m joking, Peter. He asked but I said no.”

Peter’s shoulders tense and then relax.

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“Do you want to know why I said no?”

“Why?”

“I’m waiting for someone else to ask me.”

You keep eye contact for ten seconds before leaving his side to go back to the cashier’s desk. Wait, were you talking about him? Do you want him to ask you? Ned is right. If he keeps avoiding this, then someone else will ask you and you might not say no next time. He takes three deep breaths before going up to the counter and placing his hands on the desk as if he means business.

“Y/N? Will you go to Prom with me?”

“Yes,” you grin.

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, Peter,” you laugh, “I will go to Prom with you.”

“Awesome,” he smiles. “Okay, I gotta go. I have to get a suit.”

Peter is out the door before you can tell him he’s already in a store that sells suits. He’s dorky but he wouldn’t be Peter if he wasn’t.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fluff #peter parker fiction #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fan fic #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #mcu #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel fan fic #marvel fiction

[spideyanakin]

Tom Holland & co fic recs 

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Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️

➪ Tom Holland

Works by @waitimcomingtoo 

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Works by other amazing writers 

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➪ Arvin Russell 

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#Peter Parker #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x you #Peter Parker x y/n #Peter Parker fan fiction #Tom Holland #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland x you #Tom Holland x y/n #Tom Holland fan fiction #Arvin Russell x reader #Arvin Russell #Arvin Russell imagine