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meganslife · 28 days

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Pen pals - p. parker (part five)

pairing: TASM! peter parker x reader

TASM! peter masterlist w/ series

summary: you find out that peter is spiderman, and your visit continues with more love and affection than you could ever imagine. (possible tw’s; past-self harm mention, slight panic attack on peters end)

a/n: HI HI HI!! i am so sorry that this came out later than i said it would. vacay was rough and busy. anyway, enjoy!

Peter stares at you like a deer in headlights. You stare right back.

“It’s… It’s a cosplay–” Peter tries.

“Peter.”

He puts all of the food back in the fridge. “I’m preparing for comic-con.”

“Peter, stop.”

“I’m serious! I- I take comic-con very seriously,” Peter insists.

You shake your head, turning away from him.

“Peter, it’s okay. You’re Spider-Man. It’s fine.” You sigh, noticing some blood on his suit. “Are you bleeding?”

He tenses up. “I– um, maybe.”

You grab his chin and inspect his face. He has a bruise forming on his temple, and a small cut on top of the bruise. “I’ll clean you up,” You say, yanking him by his wrist to the bathroom. No other house would have a full drawer of medical supplies besides Peter’s.

“Y/N, it’s fine,” Peter whines. “I just wanna go to bed.”

“I don’t care.”

He scoffs, leaning on the bathroom counter. You start a bath and make it all bubbly and warm. Peter was visibly stressed, and baths helped you, so maybe they’d help Peter.

“Okay!” You clap, “Uh, I’ll turn around and you can… Y’know.”

Peter nods, his face flushed.

He gets into the water, wincing at how warm it is. You ask if you can turn around, and he says yes, but you don’t really know if you’re ready to turn around. The bubbles in the water most likely made it so that you couldn’t see his bottom half… But you’d see enough to make you feel funny.

You slide off your hoodie, and then you realize you’re only in a bra and shorts. Peter notices too.

“Sorry. It’s just hot in here-”

Peter shakes his head. “It’s okay. Can you wash my hair?”

“Yeah,” You nod. He gets his hair wet, going under the water in the process. When he comes back up, he stares at you again. You pretend to not notice as you rub the shampoo into his scalp.

“What?” You laugh, washing out the shampoo. “You’re staring at me.”

Peter shakes his head, smiling. “It’s nothing,”

“No, what is it?”

“It’s an awkward question,” His posture slumps. He’s embarrassed.

You rub his shoulders. “Just ask it. I don’t care if it’s awkward.”

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

You gulp. “Yeah.” That was an awkward question.

Relationships have been terrible for you so far. The last boyfriend you had was the summer before college started. He was terrible. Super mean, especially about Peter. He didn’t understand how important Peter was to you. Talking about relationships kind of made you feel sick, mostly because no one had ever treated you right. You felt unloveable. Sometimes you worried that you’d die alone and cold.

“You never mentioned one in our letters,” He raises an eyebrow.

“I guess I just didn’t want to talk about it,” You shrug. “They were all mean.”

Peter looks at you, his smile gone. “Mean?”

“I don’t like talking about them,” You look down at your lap. “It’s kind of like re-hashing old wounds, you know?”

Peter doesn’t miss how you briefly look at your arm; the arm is scattered with white scars from old wounds you inflicted on yourself.

“Can you turn around so I can dry myself off?” Peter asks.

You nod, and he barely even dries himself off. You can hear how antsy he is.

The towel was wrapped around his waist when you felt him hugging you from behind.

“Peter, you’re all wet,” You giggle.

He laughs too. “Shh, it’s fine. You’re fine.”

“Let go.”

“Never,” Peter whispers in your ear.

“I’ll scream,” You warn.

“Yeah, right.”

When you and Peter finally make it to his bed, he wraps an arm around your shoulders as he reads. You really want to sleep. But Peter is right there. He’s warm and soft. He sets his book down and takes his glasses off when he feels you cuddling up to him.

“You tired?” Peter asks, smiling.

“No,” You murmur into his neck.

He rubs your back, making you even more tired.

“Do you wanna see my webs?” He whispers.

You shake your head. “Show me tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

When Peter wakes up, he’s alone in his bed.

He groans, stretching. He heard the shower running, and you singing, and he smiled.

It was already day two of your visit. Peter never wanted it to end, no, the thought of you leaving terrified him. He had already become dependent on your smile to get him through the day. I’m whipped, he thinks as he makes breakfast for you and May.

May emerges from her bedroom with a slight grin.

“Saw you two sleeping in your bed,” She says. “You didn’t have sex, right?”

Peter chokes on his orange juice. He shakes his head with a blush rising on his cheeks and ears.

“Good,” May sighs, “I hated giving you the talk the first time.”

“What talk?” You ask, clueless.

Your skin was all red and slightly wet from your shower. Not to mention that you were only wrapped in a towel. Peter couldn’t form a single thought in his brain.

“Umm,” Peter stammers, “Being safe as Spider-Man. She noticed my latest injuries.”

May nods, tugging at Peter’s ear. “You’re gonna get yourself killed one day!”

You laugh, girlish and loud. Peter watches as you walk away, the urge to tug you back and kiss you is way too primal.

Once you’re dressed and have eaten breakfast, Peter wanted to go for a walk.

It was nice outside. Not too warm, and not too cold. Peter slips an arm around your waist as you walk through Central Park, and you seem none the wiser. He listens to you talk about the latest book you read, because how could he not? You’re beaming and beautiful and so excited about some book he’s never heard of. He thinks he loves you, but he’s not going to think too much about it.

“Was it supposed to rain?” You ask him. “I felt a drop.”

Peter feels one too, along with the guilt of taking you out when it’s about to pour.

“Sorry, bub. I didn’t know it was gonna rain… We can get a cab home if you want,” Peter shrugs, letting go of your waist.

“It’s okay,” You laugh, “I don’t mind getting a little wet!”

Peter’s fingers ghost over yours. You notice what he’s doing, and smile, telling him not to be shy. It was hard for him to not be. When your hand is in his, he feels a little more confident. Secure.

The rain starts coming down, and you mutter something about a paper in your pocket.

“What’s in your pocket?” Peter asks, “You keep digging in there.”

You let go of his hand.

“It’s nothing,” You stop walking to look through every pocket in your shorts. “Ugh, damnit.”

Peter raises an eyebrow, “Okay, what did you lose?”

“Promise you won’t make fun of me,” You whine. “Please. It’s so embarrassing.”

“So much embarrassment for one girl. Just tell me.”

You take a deep breath. “I lost the drawing you gave me.”

Peter ponders for a moment. Did he give you a drawing? He couldn’t even remember.

“Why are you embarrassed?” Peter grins, “That can’t be the right word.”

“Guilty? A terrible friend?” You grumble, hugging Peter. He hoped it was for comfort.

Peter chuckles, hugging you back. The rain is still pouring down on you both.

“It’s okay, lovie,” He smiles, “I’ll draw you something else, okay?”

You nod, still frowning.

Peter knew he didn’t draw you a lot of things. He would make drawings for you, but wouldn’t send them in fear that they were bad. Maybe he’d show them to you soon.

“I bet you can’t beat me to that bench over there,” Peter dares.

A smile spreads across your face. “I bet I can.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You count down from three, and you both start running. Peter immediately starts falling behind, and you can’t tell if he’s doing it purposefully or not. You and Peter’s giggles are some of the only noises around, other than birds chirping.

When you win the race and sit on the bench, he follows close behind.

“Fuck,” Peter gasps, “Why the hell are you so fast?”

Rain is still coming down, but the sun is peaking out. A rainbow is starting to form in the sky.

You blush, “I think you let me win.”

He laughs, still out of breath. “Maybe a little.”

The bench was wet and uncomfortable to sit on. You and Peter were both soaking wet. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, kissing the crown of your head. Peter mutters about something May said before you came; how you would have laughed so hard at her stupid joke. You try to listen, you really do, but Peter’s mouth looks so lovely and kissable. God, you need to get over this crush. Or do something about it.

“What?” Peter finally looks at you, “Is there something on my face-?”

“No. I was- uh, zoning out,” You lie, “Wanna go back home?”

He nods, squeezing your hand. “Let’s go, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl, you repeat in your head.

You and Peter get back home and shower, as neither of you wanted to get sick or smell like rain. He watches as you do your makeup afterward, even though you guys aren’t going anywhere.

“It cannot be that interesting to watch a girl do her makeup,” You chuckle.

“Oh, but it is,” Peter says, “I don’t know how you do it.”

You don’t respond, putting your signature lipgloss on instead.

May shuffles past Peter and into the bathroom, she tells you that you look pretty. Peter wants to say something like that, too, but he’s not sure how to word it. “I have a shift,” May says, “I’ll be gone for a while. No funny business, you two!”

“Bye, May,” Peter kisses her cheek goodbye.

You kiss her cheek too, and then she’s gone.

Peter walks off to his bedroom with his face flushed. He’s so annoyed with himself. Why can’t he just tell you he likes you? He could tell Gwen he liked her. He almost hears Gwen’s voice in his head, telling him to go get her. Scoop her up before someone else does. Gwen always knew what was best. God damn her and her wiseness. Before Peter knows it, he’s crying, holding his hands over his mouth and nose to stop the pathetic noises from escaping. He just really needed to tell you. And if you don’t feel the same, then he’ll just shrivel up and die—no big deal.

He pulls himself together before you can notice something being amiss.

“Do you have a roof we can sit on?” You ask, sitting on the kitchen counter.

Peter smiles. “You want to sit on the roof?”

“Yeah!” You beam, “I used to do it as a kid. Almost fell and broke my ankle once.”

“Don’t break your ankle sitting on the counter.”

You scoff, hugging your legs to your chest.

Peter moves around the kitchen. He’s cleaning what doesn’t need to be cleaned-- mostly because he needs to distract himself. You aren’t helping by sitting on the counter and watching his every move.

“So,” You tug Peter’s wrist, “Roof? C’mon, Pete. The sun’s setting. We can’t miss it!”

“It’s not that interesting,” He says, voice monotone. “Usually the same sunset every day.”

“Well, I haven’t been here every day.”

Your determination to sit on the roof almost makes him smile. Almost.

“Fine,” Peter sighs. “If you break a bone, it’s your fault.”

You nod, face flushed, and eyes creased from your bruising smile. Peter worries you’ll get stuck like that; your huge, crooked smile. Not that he would mind you being stuck like this.

When both of you are on the roof, you hand Peter one of your wired earbuds. He takes it and lays himself down on the shingles with you.

“Any song requests?” You smile. That goddamn smile, Peter thinks.

“All These Things That I’ve Done,” Peter says instantly, “You know, The Killers?”

The song starts playing. “I’m not sure that I’ve ever heard this one,” You confess.

Another head aches,

another heart breaks,

I’m so much older than I can take.

And my affection, well it comes and goes

I need direction to perfection, no, no, no, no--

Peter shrugs, smiling. “I need to introduce you to real music.”

You look over at him, face flushed and a little sweaty because of how hot it is. Peter doesn’t look over at you; he’s too afraid. The fact that he feels nervous and shy because of you makes him smile, but it also scares him. “You’re not looking at the sunset,” Peter remarks. You glance at the sunset. It wasn’t that exciting, like Peter said.

“Peter,” You whisper, “I didn’t want to come out here for the sunset.”

He looks visibly confused. You frown.

“Why are we on the roof, then? I don’t want you up here, Y/N, you’ll get hurt.”

You groan, face falling between your knees.

“I like you, Pete,” You say quietly, so quiet that Peter almost misses it.

“What?” He practically squeaks.

“I’m not repeating myself.”

Peter puts his hand on your knee, he’s smiling. “You like me?”

You whine, trying to get away from him. You slide down the roof and onto the porch, Peter watches and follows. When you stride off to the front door, Peter stops you. He yanks you back with a web, his hands going to your waist. “Those were my webs, if you wanted to know,” He smiles, looking into your eyes.

Laughing, your hands fall on his face. The stubble of facial hair against your palms, his pink cheeks, and his stupidly gorgeous brown eyes were so close.

“For the record,” Peter twirls some of your hair around his fingers, “I like you too. Maybe more than like.”

You look away from his eyes, the fluttering feeling in your stomach becoming too much.

“No,” He whispers, “Look at me.”

You shake your head, smiling and squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t expect him to do anything funny when you did that, but then he kissed your lips, and everything melted.

Peter felt bad that he hadn’t asked first. “Sorry,” He huffs, still holding onto your face.

“Don’t be sorry,” You smile, leaning in and kissing him.

Peter sinks into the kiss, hands roaming around your face and neck. You tried really hard not to make any embarrassing sounds or mess up. It had been a long time since you kissed anyone. Peter didn’t mind, he guided you with pleasure. When he touches his tongue to your bottom lip, you groan. You two were eventually french-kissing on his front porch, still not giving a damn about the sunset.

“We should-” You murmur between kisses, “We should go inside, don’t you think? This is a lot of PDA.”

Peter laughs, kissing the corner of your mouth. He leads you inside and into his room. You have a feeling that you know what’s happening next, and your heart feels heavy. It’s not that you didn’t like Peter. You loved him. You didn’t want to have sex with him, not now at least. And you didn’t want that to be the entirety of the visit.

You couldn’t have been more off.

“Do you wanna go out on a date?” Peter asks, lying down on his bed. “I wanted to take you out before kissing you. The buildup would’ve been nice, you know? But, I just couldn’t help it.”

You stare at him, standing in front of his bed. “What?”

Peter shrugs. “If you don’t wanna go out, that’s cool. I just wanted you to know that I want to be together.”

“You want that?” You ask quietly.

“Do you not?”

That was such a dumb question. Of course, you wanted it. You wanted to be with Peter since junior year of high school when you two first connected and started the letters. It was just a foreign feeling to be wanted for something. Peter was everything you needed and wanted, so why did you feel this nervous bomb in your stomach waiting to explode?

“Bub,” Peter coos, “Come here, will you? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

You walk over to Peter, falling into his arms. “You want to be with me?”

“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t,” He assures.

“Oh.”

He laughs, loudly and unapologetically, not at you, but more so at the fact that you didn’t understand that he wanted this. He wanted to be close to you and be able to hug your waist. He wanted everything, only if it was involving you. “I think that when Gwen died, I knew,” Peter says quietly.

“Knew what?”

“I knew that she was right. She’d always tell me to be with you, even though you lived so far. The number of times I talked about you was unreal. I love Gwen, obviously, but she was right about you. You’ve always been my person.” He explains, toying with the necklace around your neck.

You smile, warmth pooling in your chest. Peter smiles too, kissing your knuckles.

“What would we do about distance?” You ask, “I won’t be in Queens forever.”

“I dunno. Maybe we just have to go with the flow and see,” Peter shrugs, “I wish you could be here forever.” He hugs you tighter.

You giggle, kissing down Peter’s hairline. His head remains in your chest, listening to your heart and accepting all of the love you were giving him. Peter was euphoric; practically buzzing with happiness.

He loved you, you loved him, and everything was at peace.

“Are you sure you’re not gonna go spidering?”

Peter groans, throwing a balled-up shirt at your head. He’s attempting to clean his room, but you’re bombarding him about Spider-Man duties.

“Stop calling it that,” He demands, “And no, I’m not going out.”

“Twitter is very concerned about your whereabouts–”

He snatches your phone from your hand, grinning.

Kissing your head, he says; “I’d rather be with you than doing NYPD’s job.”

“They should pay you for saving New York so many times,” You suggest, blushing from his proximity. You could feel the heat radiating off his face.

Peter pecks your lips, slow and loving. You laugh, pushing him away when he starts to kiss down your neck. “Go away,” You giggle.

“Go away?” Peter laughs, “You were begging me to lay by you earlier. What happened to that, honey?”

The soft hum of music plays in the background. City noises are making the walls rattle. Peter is warm and lovely. You want to stay here forever, you think. Peter and you, forever.

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meganslife · 1 month

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hey all! i’m sorry that my series Pen pals with TASM! peter parker is taking a while to finish. i just finished the next part which will probably be out by tomorrow, and the part after that will most likely be the last one. (i’m going on vacation for a week and just want this series to be over lol) .

another thing… is anyone else going through severe writers block???? like oh my god. this is terrible. someone save me. i hate this!!

also!!! my requests are open!! if you see this pls lmk if it will let you submit a request. i would really appreciate it if y’all sent in some ideas :P (my about me has all of my policies)

anyhoo.. have a lovely day/night tumblr friends. i love you all very much :) you’re cherished and beautiful and amazing<3

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meganslife · 2 months

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poems/thoughts/nonsense masterlist

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

thinking

roller rink

high together

the night

contained

dangerous ones

different

crush

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meganslife · 2 months

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MCU peter parker masterlist

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

DRABBLES

Spelling errors -> the cute barista at your local coffee shop always spells your name wrong.

SERIES

none yet... ;)

0 notes

meganslife · 2 months

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TASM peter parker masterlist

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

DRABBLES

Slanted floors -> you and peter got a new apartment. he loves it, but you hate it. (GN reader)

Party animal -> you see your ex at a frat party, and to avoid him wanting to talk to you, you act like you’re dating the closest guy— who just so happens to play along. (Fem reader)

SERIES

Pen pals (ONGOING) -> peter parker is your pen pal. (Fem reader)

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six.

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meganslife · 2 months

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Pen pals - p. parker (part four)

pairing; TASM! peter parker x fem! reader

read part one, part two, and part three before this!!<3

summary: you land in new york with no difficulties, besides one. you realized that peter was kind of cute, maybe more. maybe sleep would drown your thoughts out?

a/n: hey guys!!! idek how many more parts i’m gonna make. maybe like 3 more. idk. bare with me. i’m kinda just going with the flow. anyway, enjoy reading💗💗

Peter knew that you’d be feeling many things after the flight. Jet-lagged, hungry, tired, and maybe crabby. He tried to prepare the best he could. The 3-hour jump ahead in time for you might take a while to get used to. He had everything waiting back at home.

Peter wanted to be cool and collected. But, he wasn’t. His heart was pounding with worry.

“What if I don’t meet her expectations?”

Peter’s question earns an annoyed glare from May.

“Be serious, Peter,” May lightly smacks his arm, “Y/N flew all this way to come see you. Why would she have any expectations? She clearly likes you for who you are.”

Peter sighs, anxiously waiting by the gate you would come out of any minute now.

“Does she?” Peter asks, “I mean, she doesn’t know I’m–”

May nudges him. “Your girl’s here.”

And there you were.

You had clearly just been sleeping, the squint in your eyes was evidence of that. You had on a basic outfit, athletic shorts, and a baggy T-shirt. You looked even prettier in person, just like he predicted. Peter couldn’t form any words to signify where he was, all he could do was walk toward you, accidentally walking into people in the process.

When you finally notice Peter, he was only a couple of steps away.

You drop everything in your hands, not caring about it going everywhere.

Peter doesn’t even say anything before hugging you. It was a bone-crushing hug.

“You’re real,” Peter says, squeezing you tightly- not planning to let go.

“I’m real,” You sniffle, squeezing him right back.

Peter pulls back slightly, wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry,” He coos, “Happy tears, right?”

You nod, looking up at him. His calloused fingers were on your face, taking in every feature.

“You’re really tall,” You laugh, hugging him again.

Peter kind of wants to cry too. Your perfume, soft hair, and warm skin were so overwhelming. It was a good kind of overwhelming.

“May’s waiting for us,” Peter smiles.

You resort to holding Peter’s hand as you grab your stuff and walk over to May.

May was on the verge of tears too. She hugged you and whispered something in your ear that Peter wished he could hear because whatever she said made you flustered.

“Stop it, May,” You laugh, “He’s literally right here.”

You and May were still hugging. Peter raises an eyebrow at May, to which she shrugs and kisses your cheek.

“Shall we go home now?” Peter asks, interlinking your fingers once again.

“Shall,” You snort, walking off with May. Peter follows close behind, holding your suitcase.

The ride to Peter and May’s place was fascinating to you. Peter could see it written all over your face.

“New York is weird,” You look over at Peter while the three of you are on the train.

“The weirdest,” Peter agreed. “One day I was sw– walking around, and a guy in a huge dinosaur costume approached me and somehow knew my name. It was really strange.”

“Hm,” You nodded, resting your head on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter looked over at May when he saw your eyes close. He smirked, and May smirked right back.

When you all made it back home, Peter showed you around.

“There’s the bathroom- and uh, I got you some stuff,” He says shyly, holding up a little box labeled ‘Y/N’s’. “Toiletries. I didn’t really know what to get, so May tried to help.”

You frown.

“What? I thought I was being chivalric here,” Peter grins.

“Did you actually buy me all of this? This is expensive stuff, Peter.”

He looks away, setting down the box. “You’re not gonna want to see my room.”

“Peter,” You sigh.

“Just– come here,” He grabs you by your wrist and leads you to his room.

Peter opens the door to his room, and you’re met with a lot of things. On his bed, he displayed all of your favorite treats, along with a little teddy bear dressed as the Statue of Liberty.

You look at Peter with wide eyes. He can tell that you’re almost on the verge of tears.

“I would’ve bought more touristy stuff, but I figured you might want to do some yourself…” Peter shrugs, leaning in his doorway. “Come here, bug. You look sad.”

“I’m not sad,” You say, voice barely a whisper as you walk over to him.

Peter hugs your shoulders. “What’s wrong, then?”

You fidget with his hoodie strings. “It’s hard to believe that you’re real.”

“I’m real, I promise,” Peter whispers, kissing your forehead.

Peter was doing everything in his power to not confess his undying love for you right then and there.

Nighttime rolled around quicker than expected. The first day in New York was mostly spent in the house, but you wouldn’t have traded it for anything. You, Peter, and May played Uno. May demolished you both. Peter swore that it was just a lucky day for her. You laughed, replaying Peter’s frustrated groans in your head over and over again-

Ugh.

That’s the other problem. Stupid Peter and his stupid face, voice, and mouth. How dare he be sculpted like a god? How dare he have such a scratchy, soothing voice? It’s quite literally driving you crazy, and you haven’t even been here for a day.

“Are you sure I can take your bed?” You ask, putting on one of Peter’s hoodies.

He gulped. “Yeah! Yeah- it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Can’t have a pretty girl sleeping on that old couch, right?” He kisses your cheek and grabs his backpack. “Sorry I have to go. Night classes are so stupid.”

“It’s okay,” You shrug, “Are you gonna sleep in here?”

“I can if you want me to.”

You nod, “Can you?”

“Of course, lovie. Go lay down, now. It’s late,” Peter guides you to his bed, his hand on the small of your back. He tucks you in, smiling widely. “‘Kay, bye!”

And then he leaves. You cuddle with one of his pillows, and it smelled like him.

You were so fucked.

At around 2 am, you are rudely waken up by something falling loudly and a not-so-whispered curse.

You assume it’s Peter trying to navigate being in the dark after getting home from his class. Wanting to surprise him, you tip-toe down the stairs, and sneak through the living room.

Instead of being met with Peter, you’re met with… Spider-Man?

Wait.

That can’t be right.

Why is Spider-Man, New York’s hero, digging in May and Peter’s fridge, eating everything he sees?

Your first instinct is to back away. Maybe he thinks this is his house. He doesn’t break into houses, does he?

Then, your foot steps on a creaky floorboard, and Spider-Man looks up from the fridge.

You are met with none other than Peter’s wide, brown eyes staring at you.

— read about me and find my masterlist here :3

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meganslife · 2 months

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Pen pals - p. parker (part three)

read part one and part two if you haven’t already!!<3

pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!reader

summary: as summer approaches, you and peter have plans to meet each other. also, who the hell is spiderman?

warnings: none :3

a/n: HOLY MOLY I AM POPPING THESE OUT VERY QUICKLY. i already have the 4th part written butttt i’m not gonna post it right away bc suspense is fun;) anyway, enjoy!

When June rolled around, You and Peter had a plan to meet in person. It was going to be a week-long visit. You’d be staying in Queens with Peter and May.

The trip itself was all planned out. You had plane tickets that Peter insisted on paying for, but you ended up buying them instead. You’d be landing in New York on July 1st, and leaving on the 8th. A week wasn’t nearly enough time to make up for years of letters, but it would have to do.

As mid-June approached, you’d been doing a lot of research on things to do in New York. One of the first things that came up when you researched was a vigilante named Spider-Man. You laughed at the name, thinking it wasn’t creative at all.

Then you texted Peter about it right away. Spider-Man was in New York, after all.

‘Who’s this Spider-Man guy?? Twitter says he’s in New York’

‘Spider-Man? He’s kind of silly.’

‘How so?’

‘Umm… He shoots webs out of his body and wears a spandex suit no matter how the weather is. Kind of silly and weird if you ask me.’

‘Are you researching about New York?’

‘Possibly. I was looking up things to do!’

‘Oh, sweetheart. There’s nothing that could prepare you for New York.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll find us things to do.’

‘I wanna see this Spider guy.’

‘Do you know what he looks like?’

‘He’s super mysterious. I’m not sure how to feel about it.’

‘I think that’s the point, Y/N. He’s a vigilante, you know? He probably doesn’t want anyone to know anything about his personal life. It could be dangerous for him.’

‘You’ve put a lot of thought into this.’

‘Thinking is one of my passions.’

‘Spider-Man has a really nice ass.’

‘PHONE ON THE COUNTER. NOW.’

Peter was slightly off about Spider-Man. You could just feel it. But, it didn’t really matter.

Soon enough, you’d be in Queens. You’d be eating May’s beautiful food and hugging Peter.

You fall asleep with your phone in your hand, and your heart full.

The last day of June finally came, and your heart was pounding while packing your suitcase.

It was surreal. In a matter of hours, you’d be over 2,000 miles away from home. The distance between you and Peter would be broken. You’d finally get the hug from Peter that you’ve been yearning for.

When you set your alarm for midnight to wake up for your flight, you couldn’t sleep. Peter was texting you so many sweet words. He was so lovely, you wanted to cry.

‘May is so excited to see you.’

‘I’m also really excited.’

‘I can’t even sleep.’

‘You’re gonna be even prettier in person.’

‘Peter, stop. I’m trying to sleep. I have to wake up at midnight and you’re waking me up with your sappy words.’

‘You love it;)’

‘See you soon, lovie.’

Eventually, you dozed off.

Peter, your pen pal for three years, was finally going to be within your reach.

You were beyond excited, but also slightly nervous.

Either way, it would be okay.

- read about me and find my masterlist here :3

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meganslife · 2 months

Text

Pen pals - p. parker (part two)

read part one here !!

pairing; TASM! Peter Parker x Fem!reader

summary: after peter and you exchange phone numbers, he finds himself yearning for you. it only gets worse after a long night of you partying. but drunk words are sober thoughts, right?

warnings: none!:3

a/n: i love love love writing this series so the second part has come very quickly. anyway, make sure to read the first part if you haven’t already!! happy reading!!<3

Peter doesn’t know when or how, but he became addicted to listening to you talk. You had so many things to say- so many beautiful words coming out of your equally beautiful mouth. He couldn’t believe you had such a soothing voice, not that he expected anything less.

God, he was down horrendously.

You both were on Facetime. Peter listens to you talk about your friends as you get ready for a long night of partying. He never thought you’d like parties, but he doesn’t care that he was wrong. He likes that calling you every day gives him more to know about you. He figures that you get outside more once it gets warmer. Spring was blooming. You and Peter had been talking every day on the phone for three months.

“Yeah, and like, Anna is great and all, but she’s so mean!” You rant, finishing up your makeup. Peter nods, watching in awe. Do you even know how pretty you are? “Peter, are you listening?”

“What?” Peter snaps out of his thoughts, “Yeah, sorry. I’m just tired.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can let you go. It’s like, 11 pm over there,” You pick up your phone, almost saying goodbye before Peter interjects.

“No, don’t hang up,” He says quickly, “I like watching you get ready. It makes me feel closer to you.”

Peter can see your cheeks turn pink. You’re embarrassed, and he could cry in your lap with how much his heart is fluttering.

“Okay,” You smile, positioning your phone so Peter could see your outfit. “What do you think?”

Peter wants to fly to Seattle and worship the ground you walk on like right now.

“You look lovely,” He grins from ear to ear. “Is that a new top? It’s fun.”

It was a basic tube top. Nothing special to you, but very special to Peter. He knew that you got insecure, so the fact that you were willing to wear this while going out made his heart feel full.

“Yeah,” You nod, giddy. “Maria got it for me.”

Peter and you talk for a little while longer. He wants it to last forever. But, eventually, you say you have to go.

“Text me when you get home?” Peter asks.

“Sure, but you’ll be sleeping,” You tease.

He scoffs, “And you’ll be drunk. I’m staying up for you.”

“Whatever,” You laugh. “Bye, Pete!”

“Bye, Y/N.”

Peter holds his phone to his chest once you hang up.

One day, he’ll tell you.

Peter wakes up at three in the morning to his phone blowing up. He groans, putting on his glasses and squinting at his phone in a poor attempt to adjust to the brightness.

He sees that you’ve been texting him and calling him. To this, he smiles. He forgot to stay up for you. Oops.

Your texts are furious and poorly written. You’ve definitely been drinking.

‘PETER BENJAMIN PARKER’

‘PETEY’

‘Oh my god pleas ansswr.’

*3 missed calls*

‘Pls pete i’m drunk and desperate’

‘Go to bed and drink some water, babe.’

‘Hehehe babe. You’re so cute.’

‘Call me? Ppleas? I miss uou.’

Peter sighs, face red and burning hot.

When he calls, you answer not even one ring after he calls.

“Did you get home safe?” Peter immediately asks.

“Jeez. Not even a hello?”

“I have priorities.”

“I got home fine, cutie,” You giggle.

Peter thinks you’ll be the death of him.

“How much did you drink, bug?” He sighs, “You should go to bed. Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

You groan over the line, and Peter laughs. He wishes he was with you in person to see this.

“You’re so boring, Pete! I have priorities too, you know.” You insist. Peter is imagining your dramatic pout.

“Oh yeah? What are they?”

“Go to Queens and hug you.”

Peter wants to cry. He knows you’re very drunk, but he read somewhere that drunk words are sober thoughts. He really hopes that you’re being genuine. Maybe you think about him as much as he thinks about you.

“We… We can talk about this another time,” Peter suggests. “Sometime when you’re sober.”

“Okay,” You say, accepting defeat. “My head hurts. I’m gonna go.”

“Alright,” Peter manages a smile, even though you can’t see it. “Goodnight, honey. Sleep well.”

“Bye! See you soon!”

See you soon.

In his dreams.

— read about me and find my masterlist here <3

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meganslife · 2 months

Text

Pen pals - p. parker

TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! reader

summary: peter parker is your pen pal.

warnings: none so far!!!

hello helloooo!!! i had this idea because i myself have a pen pal, and it’s honestly really fun and reminds me of peter. this will be multiple parts!! anyhoo, happy reading!

Having a pen pal was fun. It gave you something to look forward to whenever you needed to open the mailbox. It was nice, although your lovely pen pal, Peter, was on the other side of the country. You were in Seattle. He was in Queens, New York. It was a nice arrangement that you two had. No phone numbers, just handwritten letters, and cute little pictures.

When you opened your apartment mailbox and saw that you had a letter from Peter, your heart felt warm. It was the warmest you’ve felt in a while.

Y/N,

My apologies for not writing you back sooner. School is kicking my butt recently, and I moved back in with May (hence why a new address is on the envelope). My old roommate went BALLISTIC on me for little things, so I decided I needed to leave. May is a better person to have around, anyway.

The fall semester ended last week, and I wish I could say that I passed my finals. My professors are just mean, I think. I’ve been super stressed out lately, and writing this letter is helping me. You’re my savior. Also, the pictures you sent me of you in Tennessee are amazing. You should be a model! I’m sure you hear that a lot because of how pretty you are;)

I hope it’s not too cold in Seattle. I took some pictures of random things I thought you’d like, maybe that’ll distract you from how cold it is. I know how much you hate the cold. (You chose the wrong place to live!)

Anyhoo, I’m sorry this letter is short. My wrist is cramping up and May needs help with dinner. Write back as soon as you can.

Much love,

Peter ♥

Photo one: Peter in an obnoxiously large New Year’s Eve hat, grinning from ear to ear with his friend(?)

Photo two: A Polaroid of stray cats bonding in what you assume is Peter’s front yard.

Photo three: A Polaroid of Peter that was clearly taken by May. Peter is holding a tray of muffins, and he looks really stupid in his apron.

You get to writing him a letter right away.

Dear Peter,

I love the pictures. I’ll add them to my growing collection on my wall:)

My day has been so shitty. I wish you were here. It gets lonely, sometimes. I have friends, I’ve told you very little about them. They’re great, don’t get me wrong, but living alone is just lonely. Maybe I should get a cat or something. I need something to come home to. (Sorry for making this portion of the letter sad. I just needed someone to talk to.)

The weather in Queens looks nice. You’re awfully lucky, Peter. It’s cold and slushy here. I’m cold to the bone. Like, nothing will warm me up. It’s annoying. I just want it to be summer again. I hate being pale and cold.

I don’t have any pictures as of right now, so I’m sorry about that. I have some drawings I could give you.

My letter is short too, so I guess we’re even. I need to nap the sadness away.

Cold and loving,

Y/N ♥

The next letter you receive from Peter is about a week later.

My dearest Y/N,

I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well.

I know we said we wouldn’t exchange phone numbers, and I respect that, but I just need to give you mine. I need to. Just in case. I don’t want you to be sad and lonely and have to wait for my letters to come. I like you. I like you A LOT– And I honestly want to meet you in person but that’s a conversation for another day. I’ve been saving up for it. Maybe you should come during the spring? You’d love it here, I know it. Or I could come to you? Whatever, we can talk about it more over the phone.

My phone number:

(718)-XXX-XXXX

Call me;)

Love always,

Peter ♥

You immediately spring up to your feet and grab your phone. Your hands were shaking as you dialed the number and called it, praying he wouldn’t think it was a spam call.

“Pete?” You ask, voice higher than you meant it to be.

Boyish laughter erupts on the other end of the line, and you already know that it’s Peter. Of course, his laugh would sound so sweet.

“Hi, lovie.”

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