#Peter Parker x Vigilante!Reader

[whyareyouhere66]

Omg cool I have an angsty request 😈(if you’re comfortable writing it<3)

Kind of Tom!Peter Parker x Male!Stark!reader x Tony Stark(platonic obviously) ??

Reader has a rocky relationship with his dad Tony, just wants his attention, to be seen by Tony etc. but once Peter joins and takes Tonys full attention reader just automatically hates him for ‘stealing his dad from him’. As time goes on reader just gets more hateful and jealous of Peter, maybe getting into fights with Peter on purpose. Suddenly there’s a new villain/anti-hero (??) that’s been interfering with there plans or just wrecking havoc to go after Peter. Plot twist when they finally catch them/they’re too hurt to keep fighting, it’s revealed as reader. You can make it as angsty as u want!

(A.K.A. Reader is Loki, Peter is Thor and Tony is Odin lol)

 AHH THIS

I love this trope-

So glad you requested this, (and thank you for checking stuff first) and enjoy

Also note that I’m not too fresh on the marvel timeline, if you notice anything that doesn’t exactly align with the movie than I’m sorry just brush past it- this also might be the longest fic I’ve ever written so 

Implied to be set around the start of Peter’s Spider-Man stuff. 

x

Look What You Made Me Do

Male Stark Reader x Avengers

“If I loved you, was a promise….

Would you break it, if you’re honest?” 

[idontwannabeyouanymore, Billie Eillish, 2017]

Cw: violence/fighting, Tony being a bad dad, slightest mentions of drinking, angst Kind of jumping straight into it too- 

I’ll fix a few things later I’m tired I want this one to be out and about

Named after a Taylor song, starting with a Billie lyric 💪💪 

If you were to ask anyone about the wealthiest men in modern day New York, it’s inevitable for Tony Stark to appear somewhere on that list.

He’s rich, handsome, a superhero. New  York’s knight in shining armor. 

Most believe his life is a dream, somehow oblivious to the fact that maybe a superhero doesn’t live life in the dream house. But when he’s made his brand through money, fancy houses, big parties, and shiny military weapons it’s easy for people to see no further than surface level.

That isn’t the case for his son, though. 

From a wealth aspect of it- the young Stark knows how grateful he is, how grateful he should be, for his father.

If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t be currently sitting in this large bedroom, with a view most would pay a couple grand for, wouldn’t be surrounded by the various expensive objects linked to his little interests. It doesn’t even matter how much Y/n would insist on paying- he never seems to think much of it. Maybe it’s his way of showing affection.

That’s what Y/n hopes, at least. 

Because if not- there’s not much there. Tony Stark has never been much of an affectionate person, some may blame it on his own father. Others would blame it on the business- no time for distractions on a long days work.

But neither of those reasons matter- for all his son ever wanted is for Tony to love him the way he wants him to.

-

Static crackles through Y/n’s small speaker, and quickly the boy perks up. A short glance  over and he finds the old Queen record spinning aimlessly, with the tone arm at the end of its songs.

Pushing himself off the bed, he walks over to the stand where Tony’s old record player sits. Taking the arm off- he flips the record over to side b, before returning it to its place. 

The intro of Queen’s “Hammer to Fall” begins ringing from the speaker, and a small, satisfied smile grows on Y/n’s face.

He hums the beat, nodding his head with it while turning back to his bed- but something catches his eye.

Outside, there’s two figures standing out front. One eyebrow raises, Y/n slowly steps closer to the window. 

“Who-?”

Recognizing his dad, dressed in his best suit, Y/n leans closer. The other figure isn’t quite as tall as Tony, and looks quite obviously nervous. 

Y/n furrows his eyebrows. 

….That’s Peter Parker.

What the hell is he doing at Stark’s house?

***

The sound of a backpack falling to the ground echoes through the foyer- and immediately it’s a sigh of relief. The sweet, sweet air conditioning here is heavenly in contrast to the one at school.

Y/n faintly feels a vibration in his pocket- grabbing it only to see multiple notifications coming from a group chat. 

‘What are they on…’ he wonders, scrolling through countless messages worth of nonsense. He goes to reply, when-

“Y/n!”

His head snaps up at the voice, echoing out from the couch.

‘didn’t realize he was home…’ he looks back at the window, finding his father’s car parked in the driveway. 

“Oh.” 

Deciding the group chat can wait, the teen wanders to where his father sits. 

“What’s up?” Immediately Y/n sees the  scattered papers piling on top of one another on the coffee table, the short crystal glass filled halfway with rum. You’d think he’d wait until at least five, but that’s not the Stark way.

“I found a uh, form on the coffee table,” his voice sounds bored, tired, “something about textbooks for school?”

Y/n notices the forms sitting at the edge farthest from Tony, as if they’d been pushed away as far as they could go. 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He says awkwardly, looking at the dirty laces of his shoes, “it’s fine, I got it.” 

“Well I can pay for them, if that’s what you’d like.” The eldest Stark shrugs, finally looking at his son from over the rim of his glasses.

Y/n almost feels embarrassed- when had he asked for that? He shakes his head, though it doesn’t hide the surprised look on his face.

“No, no you don’t have to-“

“Oh please, I got it, education is our future or something, right?” Tony shrugs, taking off his glasses and beginning to stand up from his chair, headed for the black leather wallet he’d left on the dining table. 

Y/n isn’t quite sure why he’s now rushing to step in front of his dad- there isn’t much harm in the gesture after all. Maybe he just doesn’t want the weight of depending on his father for everything to lay on his shoulders. Either way, excuses are already falling from his mouth.

“You really don’t have to, dad-“

“You’re acting like I’m handing you the presidents treasury,” Tony deadpans, “besides, you don’t have a job.”

Y/n pauses. 

“Wha- yes, I do-“ does his dad really not know about his job?

“Look, it doesn’t matter, I can get them used anyways-“

Before he can take one step closer, a nervous voice quips up from the doorway and ends the race for the wallet.

“Um, Mr. Stark?”

Curiously, Y/n and his dad snap their heads to see who has just joined them.

“Peter-?”

Peter Parker stands in the large door way, curled into himself with his backpack strap folded between his fist. His eyes are wide and questioning, looking between his classmate and his idol as if he had walked into the wrong room. 

Suddenly, Tony’s shoulders drop- and he’s no longer interested in any textbook or wallet. 

“Ah, Parker, didn’t think you’d make it.” He says bluntly, strutting away from his son and towards the obviously nervous boy. 

“Here, sit down kid.”

With the man’s hand pressed into his shoulder blade, Peter has no choice but to follow him towards the various seats lining the dining table. And from the side- Y/n watches, absolutely lost.

After he had seen his father and Peter talking, he kept it to himself. Knowing the boy, he had simply assumed Peter was asking for an autograph or a picture, just like half of the city. 

But now, he is in his house. At his table. 

What the hell is this?

“Um,” Y/n’s voice sounds blunt, almost too similar to his father- who’s already sitting down across from Peter with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised, as if this was a press conference. 

Peter looks at him first, while his father throws a glance over his shoulder. 

“What’s this?” Y/n asks, pointing to the strange teenage boy sitting down in his seat. Tony tiredly leans back in the chair, twisting to the side just slightly so he could look at Y/n head on. 

“Y/n, this is Peter, Peter, this is Y/n.” 

“Uh, yeah, we know each other.” Peter pipes up, giving Y/n the shortest, most awkward smile it seems he could muster. Y/n’s face stays blank.

“Yeah, I meant what is he doing here?”

Tony doesn’t seem at all phased by the rude undertones of Y/n’s question.

“Peter is gonna work as my intern for a little while, I’m training him.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow. 

“For what-“

“Hey, quit interrupting, will you?” Tony dismisses him with the wave of his hand, turning around so he’s fully facing Peter. And Y/n lingers there, processing. He doesn’t like feeling like a shadow, not in his own home especially, but that’s the feeling that begins to overtake him.

Intern…? 

He tries understanding what that means- there’s many possibilities. Assistant, maybe. But when he looks between his dad and his classmate one last time, seeing that he’s been nearly forgotten in the room (aside from the short glances from Peter’s end) he turns around to retreat, fists clenched. 

His dad has had interns before, Peter likely won’t be much different. Possibly.

***

It’s been 5 weeks.

And multiple times, for each of those weeks, Peter has been somewhere mixed into the tangle of Tony Stark’s extensive schedule, far more entangled than Y/n has been for the past few years.

He shows up to dinner, trains at the Avenger’s tower. He comes knocking on the door randomly asking for life advice, or something- he’s everywhere.

It wasn’t even until week 4 that Y/n discovered the truth behind his sudden presence, when he saw the suit for the first time.

He has his own suit, god can you believe it?

Y/n watches on as Tony seems to easily bring Peter under his wing- hating how he has to avoid the burning green envy that burns his ears. How has Tony managed to take on the father figure role to Peter, when he barely manages that role with his own son?

‘It shouldn’t hurt this bad,’ y/n will think to himself, ‘you’re independent, relying on him will only make it harder in the long run.’

But he couldn’t help the hardened glare that arose every time he saw his dad, his own dad, bonding with someone else the way he had been wanting for what- 16 years?

Even now, sitting at the table, while the teen stares into the bowl of cereal in front of him, it’s just so irking to think about. 

His spoon scrapes the edges of the bowl, gathering the now soggy cheerios into a cluster in its silver dip. Then, they get lost in his mouth. Rinse and repeat- he does it over and over while staring a blazing hole into the wall. 

What is Peter doing that he can’t?

“Mr. Stark-“ 

Speak of the devil. 

Y/n’s grip on the spoon tightens.

Peter comes stumbling into the room, out of breathe as if he sprinted all the way here. He doesn’t even knock anymore, Y/n thinks, he’s made himself at home.

“Kid? What’re you doing here?” 

The nickname sends a shivering twitch through Y/n’s already sore muscles, tugging his face so he can’t control the annoyed look that comes through. 

They’re talking to each other now, Peter trying to tell a story far too quickly for either of them to follow. Y/n blocks their voices out.

His chair scrapes against the floor, and he grabs his bag to leave. 

“I’m going to school.” He says loudly, cutting off their conversation. 

“Oh, I guess I gotta go too-“ 

“No,” Peter freezes, looking at Y/n curiously, “no, no stay here longer why don’t you? Practically your house.” Venom leaks from his words, the sarcasm so loud it makes Peter flinch. 

“Y/n,” Tony groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. Y/n’s stare only hardens.

“What?” He snaps, now looking at his father. 

“Really?” Is all that Tony manages, before Y/n is rolling his eyes and spinning on his heel.

“(F/n) is waiting for me.” He grumbles, snatching his phone and stomping out of the room. 

How does his dad not get it? Is he so blind he can’t even see his own blatant favoritism? 

The look of exhaustion displayed on his face would make you think hes working day and night having to put up with Y/n’s attitude- yet he’s unaware he’s exactly what’s causing it. 

Y/n doesn’t want to blame Peter, in the back of his mind he knows that it’s his dad’s fault. But it feels like his father is being stolen.

But can it really be theft if there wasn’t much of him in the first place?

Y/n knows that he’s picking all the fights, starting all the arguments just so that twisted part of his head gets some satisfaction. 

It shouldn’t be working so well.

The young Stark doesn’t return home until it’s just about dark outside, his backpack hanging loosely off his shoulders. 

He walks the long halls of his home, past the doors that could either be a guest bathroom or a weapon closet. Even if there’s more entryways than doors, his father opting for large empty frames, he walks the length of it with no specific destination in mind. 

He isn’t too sure where he’s headed anyways, considering he’s passed the way to his bedroom already.

Through half lidded eyes he guides himself through this maze of a house, bitter jealousy bubbling in his lungs. It’s such a haunting thought, a looming presence, and he wishes he could push it down the drain but it seems that he can’t. 

“Stupid, stupid Peter…” he mumbles, hand grazing the wall beside him. 

Ned’s voice still rings in his ears, breathy from how he had been exercising for most of the class.

“You don’t know what he looks like- what if he’s like seriously burnt?”

“I wouldn’t care, I would still love him for the person he is on the inside.”

Of course it caught their attention- Peter’s little crush on Liz wasn’t hard for most to notice. 

“Peter knows Spider-Man!”

How horrible. 

Across the room, Y/n’s head snapped to where the pair was on the gym floor- Peter’s jaw slacked. It didn’t matter how much he tried to quickly say otherwise- Flash already had slid down the climbing rope with another remark slick on the edge of his tongue.

And Y/n watched on, eye twitching, feeling how his  friends slapped his arm in amusement. 

“I can’t tell if he’s for real or not-“ F/n mumbled from next to him. Y/n’s eyes never tore away from the scene playing out ahead, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah,” and his eyes squeezed shut, “me neither.”

Y/n’s fists curl together, knuckles scraping the wall for a moment before he’s pulling away.

It’s so frustrating. 

He’s walking further down the corridor, eyes sliding open just in time to catch a door left slightly ajar- and he pauses.

He’s passed the door many times, no doubt, but this time it’s different. There’s something pulling him inside, an unknown source that’s too intriguing to walk past.

Slowly, he pushes open the door. And there it is.

Old bins and cabinets with junk gadgets shoved inside- worn blueprints from his fathers old work. One eyebrow raises, cogs turning and grinding in his head.

There’s some things still in tact, some that have been broken apart and scattered about. Y/n kneels down to observe closer. 

He feels the smooth surface of a metal clasp against his fingertips, grazing the jumbled objects. 

This is his answer.

The backpack slides off his shoulders, thumping on the ground beside him. This room is one that his father doesn’t visit much anymore, now much more caught up in other things such as the Avengers, Peter, the scattered piles of paperwork that seem to constantly consume him.

And in the corner, there’s a bend in the wall partially hidden by a cabinet- if you were to tuck something inside, no one could see from the door frame.

Y/n already feels his mind blooming with ideas as he skims over the various parts and pieces in front of him.

If he can’t live up to his fathers standards, his fathers name, 

then he’ll make his own.

***

Multiple nights pass, weeks go by and Y/n finds himself spending the time after dinner until midnight cooped up in Tony’s old gear room. 

He likes to think it’s a family trait, something tying him to the Stark name, also known as his skill for parts. He can take a few glances at both his own notes as well as the old blueprints and suddenly have the necessary concept for a retractable weapon, built to strike out of an arm piece. And when he’s done, he simply drags it all into his tucked in corner- hidden until night falls again the next day. 

Time not spent at school, occasionally in his room, or in his new lab- is now spent taking full advantage of the gym on the higher floors. 

The Avengers don’t question it, barely even using it at the same time as him anyways. He’s planned it so no one is around to see the training he does, the work put in to not only muscle- but also skill.

He doesn’t have a vigilante name just yet- but perhaps that’s the fun in it. He’s totally anonymous.

And as the firm punching bag jerks beneath his incoming fist, he feels the creeping joy of power.

Y/n puts lots of thought into the first strike against the city- building an elaborate yet somewhat reckless attack plan, a formula. 

No citizen will get hurt- it’s only the churning, growing need for revenge he wants so badly to be satisfied. Among the jumbled emotions, and new discoveries, he knows what he wants, and he knows just who he wants to be.

Y/n Stark may never be the millionaire superhero his father is- but he will be something. Something that no one will ever expect.

***

“A new vigilante seems to be on the loose, unidentified. They’ve struck many times already, but police have noticed that, interestingly enough, among the pattern of crime scenes none of the main public areas or citizens have been hit. Could this be the work of an Anti-hero, perhaps? Down at the Avengers Tow-“ 

The anchorman’s voice is cut off, mid sentence, and Tony holds the remote firmly. 

Around him, on the expensive couches sit the Avengers themselves, but their faces are dulled by distress, their knuckles tense from a firm grip. 

“We gotta find this guy,” Bruce sighs, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. Beside him, Natasha agrees.

“If we don’t catch them soon, people will start doubting us.” She says it like it’s so simple, lips pressed into a thin line. Steve groans.

“They aren’t gonna start doubting us-“ he tries, but no one seems to believe him. 

“Oh really? Sounds like you’ve got some superstar solution then, huh?” Tony, always packed full of sarcasm, looks absolutely exasperated. He’s been looking tirelessly for this new ‘vigilante’ of the sorts - they don’t even seem to have a name. They work quickly and precisely, yet go at it with a powerful vengeance. Their skill- it’s almost something he wants to respect. 

The group begins to speak again, switching between civil turn taking and overlapping words. They don’t even notice the figure standing by the door. 

Y/n peaks his head around the door frame, watching these strong, powerful superheroes stressing over him. Oh, they just have no clue.

As they’re still talking, planning unknowingly within earshot of their own enemy- Y/n takes his notes. He listens, until finally he slips past the door and walks quietly down the hall as the sick, strong feeling of triumph sinks into his stomach. 

He’s got them.

***

The rumbling fill of chaos echoes from all around- machines jittering, codes breaking, and a light flickers down the hall.

Y/n stands at the center of the room, looking around at one of his father’s many warehouses from all around- this one being stationed north of his own home state- Maine, USA.

His dad brought him here only a few times as a kid, once or twice perhaps. He always hated it- still does, actually, hence the small bombs scattered across the place. 

It would be funny, to think that not even the Avengers have caught on to his pattern- but that may be jinxing it. Plus, he knows the common traits of each area he’s hit so far, the places holding the unjust power. This stop, though, he’s been waiting to finally hit.

“Stark Enterprises” - a sign once strung together in big letters, now laying at Y/n’s feet broken into pieces. The boy crouches down, picking up a chunk from the “E” and crushes it in his hands. 

Under his mask, he grins. 

His suit, not quite as advanced as those made by his father, fits him well. The sleeves are tighter, snugly wrapped around his biceps with streaks of purple running through the black material. Padding, like thin layers of armor, protect his torso and the pants are the most loose- cargo, with big pockets.

A mask is what pulls the whole thing together, though, concealing the entirety of his head underneath its black and purple coloring. 

Littering his hands, and even weaved into the material all across, are the gadgets he’s spent so many hours on. Rings sealed into the gloves have enough sharp metal twisted together inside that when activated, spread into blades. In the pocket around his waist band- is a button, the button, that with one push turns this warehouse into a cloud of orange and yellow. 

Y/n is still watching the crumbling sign fall from his palm, like grains of sand, when the door caves in behind him. 

“Put your hands up, tough guy, we caught you.”

Captain America, confident as ever, bursts in at the front of the group with his shield held high. Behind him, Tony, Peter, Natasha and even Bruce waltz right in after him. For a second- a glimmer of pride washes through Y/n’s body, they brought 5 to a fight against 1- he must be special.

“Yeah, times up buddy.”

Seeing his father, dressed in the famous Ironman suit, reminds Y/n of the whole reason this started- and another twisted feeling knots itself in his stomach.

The moment he’s been waiting for.

They can’t see him as he smirks underneath the mask, deciding to toy with them just a bit. He doesn’t speak- no one’s heard his voice when spoken through the filtered material yet. It seems they’ll be the first.

Y/n’s head cocks to the side, and raises an eyebrow- something the Avengers can see through the imprint of his mask. A challenge. 

Bruce’s battle cry cuts through the air- and suddenly the Hulk is charging. It startles Y/n for a moment, but quickly he steps to the side and lets the green giant crush the ground beside him. As Hulk gets back up, snarling and growling, Y/n is already grabbing a long beam, bent from where it fell with the rest of the Stark Enterprise’s sign, and strikes Hulk right in the gut.

The giant man stumbles slightly, yet still stomps forward. But Y/n isn’t in front of him.

“Hulk!” Natasha yells out, watching from across the room as Y/n comes from behind, mid air, wielding the same beam from before. Hulk is barely able to tilt his head an inch before the metal is crashing down into the area just below his head, and bruising his neck. 

He’s out within a few seconds, stumbling around clumsily while black dots tease his vision. Then, he falls to the floor.

“Well shit.” Steve mutters, bending his knees like a bull preparing to charge. He should’ve known sending in Hulk with no preparations would be a bad an idea.

“Sending the big one in first, huh?” Y/n looks at them cockily, “do you see me as a threat, Ironman?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, “oh look at that, he can talk.”  He doesn’t even skip a beat as his suit begins to whir, the arm unfolding so a mini blaster pokes out from the forearm. 

The vigilante barely has time to react as strings of energy are thrown his way, jumping and dodging each of them narrowly. Tony doesn’t wait for him to regain his footing though, flying straight towards his figure.

Steve eyes Natasha, gesturing for her to move. The woman obliges, creeping around the fight so Y/n’s back is in front of her. 

Ironman grabs Y/n by the shoulders, pushing down with such strong force that the latter is forced back a few steps. He holds the metal sleeves with a firm grip, and at first Tony doesn’t notice as the boy’s rings begin to scrape against the surface. Sparks fly like the touch of a welding torch, grazing the edges of Tony’s mask just in time for him to realize mini blades are beginning to prod at his suit. Y/n doesn’t hesitate to take the opportunity and shove the man away from him. 

Natasha watches closely, seeing how Y/n stumbles from the impact. She jumps at him.

Y/n extends his arm in her direction, not even turning all the way around, and his rings grow from small blades to a sharp spiral of metal pointing right at Black Widow’s chest.

She freezes, he smirks.

Of course, it’s not his intention for someone to die. That’s not what he does. This, well, is simply defense.

“How about we get right to the point.” He says, slipping his free hand into one of the pouches around his waist band. Out with it comes a cylinder- black and sleek with some sort of dial built in, a bright red button on top. 

Steve feels his stomach drop. 

“Pick a number.”

Tony, seemingly unaware of the detonator to have just been introduced, rolls his eyes, he’s growing impatient. 

“Alright, fine, 5- you wanna quit it with the games now?”

Big mistake.

Without skipping a step, Y/n is scrolling through digits on the small screen built into the detonator. It’s almost too quick for any of the Avengers to realize what he’s doing- and it’s far too late by the time they do. 

“Alright, then.” Y/n presses the button.

Steve goes to lunge forward, tries to make a grab for the device, but he waited too long. The whole room rattles, and the section just to the left of them suddenly bursts. Bombs. 

Y/n watches with a special glint in his covered eyes as everyone stumbles, yet his feet stay firmly planted in the ground. They’re startled, bits of the wall flying around and clattering against the floor. Peter snaps his head towards Y/n in shock.

“Who’s next?”

“Oh my god.” Peter mumbles, wide eyed. It’s the sound of his voice, his first time saying a word, that catches Y/n’s attention right away.

His teeth grind together, thumb smoothing over the button’s smooth surface. His mind mumbles, Do it again.

Staring into the large white panels of Peter’s mask, his guard is left fallen for just a moment too long. Tony sends one more blast his way. 

A jolt of pain seers through Y/n’s thigh. The energy was strong enough to surpass the material of his pants, leaving a heavy ache in the area. Y/n glares.

“You asshole,” he grunts, spinning the dial with his thumb before slamming down the button.

Above them, part of the ceiling crumbles.

Bits of concrete come tumbling down, Peter and Natasha diving for cover. But Y/n is no where near finished.

“How many bombs are there-“ Peter asks to no one in particular. His question is soon to be answered.

“Let’s not wait to find out,” Steve grunts, sprinting to where his opponent stands at the opposite side of the room. Y/n feels the previous feeling of confidence, the smooth and cocky facade, slipping away. He wants to win.

Each of Captain America’s hits clang against metal couplets clasped to Y/n’s wrist- chaos ensues around them. Tony firing shots, Peter surrounding the fight, Natasha running for a hit at close combat- and hulk just starting to stir from his little nap. 

But Y/n doesn’t let up- not until it’s too late.

A fiery blaze heads straight for him, straight for his face. It’s beginning to sizzle against his ears, he can feel it coming. But he doesn’t react in time, trying to defend himself from too many things at once. 

The blast, coming from his own father’s hand, hits him.

His mask begins to spark, edges curling into themselves as slowly, Y/n feels the right side of his face being revealed. 

His hand meets the wall, holding him up as he recovers from the impact. They haven’t seen him yet. 

He hears Steve’s heavy breathing from behind him, something so familiar it almost tricks his mind. Then, Tony’s voice.

“It only takes a few hits, huh? If I knew that’s all it took I wouldn’t have wasted so much time.”

More sarcasm, Y/n almost laughs.

“Who are you.” Natasha doesn’t even make it sound like a question, her voice strong and firm. 

Silence ensues, just for a moment, Y/n’s head is swimming. 

Yet, over all the thoughts and noise, one thing screams loudest over the rest. 

“Do. It.”

“Don’t you recognize me?” Y/n’s voice, no longer protected by a filter, is raspy and hoarse. He slowly turns around, head peaking out of the shadows.

“You know me already…”

.

.

Holy shit.

A loud clang echoes through the now dead silent room, the red white and silver shield rolling across the floor. 

“…Y/n?” 

Tony’s helmet folds into itself, revealing a sweaty face with wide eyes and a slack jaw. 

A bitter smile is what he receives.

“Dad.”

Tony looks around, dumbfounded. 

“I-“ he stutters, nearly speechless, “what- what the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Y/n steps forward, voice dry yet dripping with venom. 

Tony chokes, “being an absolute moron, that’s what-“

Y/n barks out a rough, quick laugh. “Ooh, rough.” He rasps. Steve steps forward, putting a hand onto Tony’s shoulder and pulling him back. It’s like a warning, silent communication because next, he’s the one to step forward.

“Y/n…” the words die on the tip of his tongue, throat running dry, but he still tries, “what- I mean, why?”

Y/n has begun to pace slightly, taking slow steps around the shocked group. He peels the mask away from his face.

“Yknow, most people tend to turn to the worst of their options when in a dark time,” he says smoothly, feeling each and every set of eyes watching while he walks. Hulk watches through blurred vision, completely disoriented. 

“I mean, hate to give you the classic origin story and everything, but…” 

“Hold on,” the thoughts are almost visible, loud and heavy in Tony’s head, “is this about something I did?”

So he’s finally getting it.

“What could Tony have possibly done?” Asks Natasha, and Y/n looks at his father directly.

“You don’t care, ok, that’s what-“ his voice is breathy, and he scowls, “You can’t even talk to your own kid, Stark. It’s like you don’t realize what I am, to you- what you are to me!” Anger rises with each word that shoots like poison from Y/n’s mouth. 

Tony gets defensive, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s not true, I know damn well you’re my kid-“

“Oh really? Cause you seem to have it a bit mixed up.” Y/n’s eyes flicker to Peter’s frame, and everyone tenses.

“Is…is this about Peter?”

At the mention of his name, Peter tears off his mask, a concerned, heavy look on his face. 

“I, Y/n it’s not like that-“ he tries, only to be interrupted.

“Yknow,” Y/n’s voice sounds so pained, “I always thought maybe you aren’t too upfront with your affection. For years, ok, I would wake up, go to school, come back, and go to bed all without saying more than a few words to you. Years, dad.” A lump is forming in his throat, but it’s too late to turn back now. “But then, out of nowhere, someone else comes into the picture and suddenly you’re taking him to lunch, you’re picking him up from school, basically spending way more time with him, than with me.”

Bold, bitter, and wavering- Y/n doesn’t stop. Even as his father, his classmate, the people he’d grown up with thinking were like family, just watch with feeling burning in their eyes. 

“Y/n,”

“You made it look so easy with him.”

“Hey, kid, c’mon-“

“Are you serious?!” Y/n yells in disbelief. “Are you gonna tell me I’m wrong? Is that it? I’m just exaggerating, or what-“

Tony straightens his posture, swallowing hard. 

Y/n’s face almost crumbles from the way his fathers face wavers. But he just doesn’t stop. 

“You can be the greatest hero in the world,” Y/n breathes, sweat sparkling around the frame of his face, “you can put on a face for the interviews, and train Peter to perfection,” a step closer, “but don’t forget that I’ve always been here too.” 

Y/n’s voice sounds so dark, unfamiliar and breaking, it’s gone raspy from the pounding drum of his heart beat. 

Ringing silence once more. 6 melting souls standing in the waste of their own troubles. 

Y/n feels budding tears threatening to spill.

“And now look what we’ve done.” 

#x male reader #Avengers x male reader #Male stark ready #Tony starks son #Avengers x vigilante reader #Peter Parker #tom!peter Parker x male reader #66 recs&replies #Pls say you like it

[verybadatwriting]

Just a Little Stab Wound

Summary: Reader, a vigilante, is injured and goes to Peter for help.

Warnings: injuries, blood loss

Notes: I experimented a little, and wrote this on paper for the first draft. I think I like it.

Gn!reader

Word count: 1,141

He was just trying to study for a chem test when his phone buzzed. At first he ignored it. After two more buzzes, he finally glanced down at the notifications, and saw they were from you. He smiled before reading them.

Need you

Pete

i’m hurt. on way. be ready.

He hurriedly replied,

how hurt?

u there?

Y/n??

When it was clear he wasn’t going to get a fast reply, he went about gathering a whole bunch of first aid stuff.

“Pete?” He heard a tired but authoritative voice. Crap. He’d thought Aunt May was asleep.

“What’re you doing?” She asked, both bemused and amused.

“Science homework?” He said, wishing it had sounded less like a question. Aunt May did not look like she was buying it, but instead of challenging the answer she sighed and reminded him to clean up once he’d finished “Whatever it is you’re really up to.”

Peter nodded itching to go prepare his room. He grabbed a heavy blanket from the bottom bunk and laid it on his floor. He tossed a pillow on top, and made sure that the first aid boxes were close at hand. This next part he always hated. The waiting was excruciating. Never knowing if you were only a moment away, or if you had bled out in some grimey back alley.

You were a vigilante, like he used to be, before he joined the Avengers. You though, you did not have the favor of law enforcement, since some (okay, much) of your activities weren't exactly legal. Peter met you while you were both stopping a robbery. Both of you had a fun time, probably due to the fact that you had the same sense of humor. Just before the cops arrived, you and Peter fled to a nearby rooftop. 

All that said, you and Peter had become friends, and then something more. You’d been to his home before, usually just to hang out, but also if you were injured he’s who you’d head to.

For the most part, Peter was used to it. He appreciated having someone his age who really understood the weight that came with having superpowers. If talking to you came at the price of occasionally patching you up, he’d happily help you out.

Finally, after what felt like hours, but was really only ten or so minutes, you landed on the fire escape and knocked on his window. You smiled when he looked up and let you in. As he got closer, he saw it was more like a pained grimace.

“Oh my God,” Peter whispered, eyes drifting to your abdomen, which was painted red with your blood. You held your hand against it, but the blood still leaked out. 

“Hey Pete,” You said, gasping through the pain before promptly tumbling through the window and into his arms.

Peter gingerly lifted you over to the blanket and set you down. You held pressure on the wound as you lay there, splayed out on the floor. Peter was readying a wad of gauze bandaging when out of the corner of his eye he saw yours start to drift closed.

“Hey!” He said. “You need to keep your eyes open, okay?” He asked. Reluctantly, you complied.

“You’ve got pretty eyes,” You murmured. 

“Thanks,” Peter smiled, not taking his “pretty” eyes off the gash across your body as he continued bandaging.

“Keep talking, love,” He prompted you.

“M’kay,” You hummed. “Just for you, pretty boy.”

At this, Peter’s cheeks flushed and he glanced at you, worry filling his eyes.

“You must be delusional from blood loss.”

“Nuh uh!” You protested as he turned back to work. “I’m just incredibly lucky and got you.”

A few minutes later, Peter had you all patched up. Then he helped you sit up, a rather painful process. Your shirt was filthy so he helped you out of it and upon seeing how much blood and grime covered your skin, he retrieved a basin and rag to gently wash the filth away. After he was done, you put on one of his t-shirts.

“It’s comfy,” you said.

“Looks good on you,” He replied.

After a moment, you looked up at him, truly taking in the worry lacing each and every one of his features.

“Thank you,” you finally, quietly said.

“Of course,” he replied.

“What’d I do to deserve you?” You asked, leaning your forehead onto his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, but he stayed careful not to hurt you. 

“You’re in no shape to even think about going home,” Peter said. “So you might as well spend the night.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

He gently scooped you up and somehow managed to climb up his bed’s adder. He set you down on your side, facing away from the wall, and tucked you in. He climbed back down, and started cleaning up while you drifted off to sleep. 

You later felt him slip into bed behind you. It was comforting, having his chest against your back. You nestled into his arms and stayed like that the rest of the night.

Peter woke up first. He didn’t dare move a muscle. From how peaceful you looked right now, nobody ever would have guessed that you’d come awfully close to death just a few hours ago. 

He heard his aunt get up and start making breakfast. Her footsteps slowly came down the hall to his room. Hastily, he covered your face with the blanket.

“Hey, Peter,” Aunt May called as she entered the room. “Do you want eggs? I’m making some.” 

“Sure! Thanks!” He said, internally cringing at his voice, which sounded way too cheery. For one wonderful second, Peter thought she was going to leave. Then, her eyebrows shrunk together as she noticed the suspiciously human shaped lump in her nephew’s bed.

“Uh,” she started, “Who’s that?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?” He asked after a moment. She raised an eyebrow in response.

“Uhm, Aunt May,” Peter said, “This is my partner. They’ve got superpowers, like me, and they don’t really want other people to know who they are. Last night they got hurt, like really hurt, and they came to me. Please don’t be mad at them, they didn’t have anywhere else to go.” 

His aunt just stood there, this stressful moment stretching on forever. Finally, someone broke the silence.

“I’s okay, Peter,” you said, pushing the blanket away from your face. “Hi Ms. Parker. I’m Y/n.” Your groggy voice wavered slightly, as if afraid of what she might say. Your face, soft from sleep, made Peter fall in love with you all over again. Seeing the way Peter looked at you, combined with your honesty and desperation, Aunt May seemed to relax.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n,” she said. “Would you care to join us for breakfast?”

#peter parker x reader #spider man x reader #spider-man x reader #vigilante!reader #superpowered!reader #x reader #x spiderman #x peter parker #marvel #avengers #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #gn!reader #spider man x gn!reader #peter parker x gn!reader #peter parker #reader #reader insert #writing #gender neutral reader #x you

[frankoceanluvrr]

𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 - 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

pairing : friends to lovers , fem!reader , college!peter, college!au

warnings : nothing serious. english isn’t my first language, urdu is! so please tell me about grammatical errors like spelling and punctuation as those i struggle with

summary : [Name] and Peter have been friends since college started. He soon finds out his friend has a ‘crush’ on the masked vigilante Spiderman, and cant help but feel a little jealous.

italics = flashbacks !

“What you drawing?” Peter smiled, looking at your notebook.

You quickly shut the book closed, looking at him laughing, “you’ll say it’s dorky.”

“Oh, come on? Me saying somethings dorky? Isn’t that like, hypocritical?” He said, tilting his head.

“I guess nerd, forgot you take physics” You said, “and anyway, we’re supposed to be studying. Not focusing on little doodles”

“Please [Name], I promise I don’t think you’re secretly the biggest dork ever” He sarcastically stated, “and I definitely do not think you’re a bigger nerd than me.”

“How dare you cross that line!” you say, holding your hand on your heart, tilting your head back.

While you were doing your dramatics, he quickly got your notebook before you could even react.

“Hey! That’s private property.” you gasped, watching him gloat since he got the book.

He opened it and flicked through the pages to see simple notes covered in Spiderman doodles.

“Oh, wow dude you really are a dork” he laughed looking at every drawing, feeling himself blush a little bit.

“Aren’t you literally in a robotics club? Or what about the time you made me watch all of those Star Wars movies? How about the time—”

“Okay that’s enough” Peter interrupted, looking around the library.

“Exactly, I cant out nerd the nerd” you shrugged, “I bet spiderman isn’t a nerd.”

“He most definitely is. Probably old and wrinkly” Peter said quickly, “yeah, he definitely has crusty bleached hair and 47 years of age.”

“You really think so? I’d love him no matter what then. I’ve actually met him before.” You said, completely unaware of who you’re exactly talking to.

**

“Are you alright?” The superhero said, looking at you while you attempt to carry new furniture into your new student accommodation.

“Yep, I’m good. Great, actually. I really like this lamp” you tried acting cool in front of the superhero, but he could tell you were secretly fangirling anyway.

“I can take some of those in you know, it’ll be easier with two people.” He offered, watching you stare at all the boxes, “which floor will you be on?”

The mask gave Peter confidence, it made him feel like he wasn’t scared of anything. It was like he was a complete different person with the mask on.

“Sure, I’m on the bottom floor so it’s not a massive job. Anyway don’t you have like, superhero duties to attend to or whatever? Sorry, that definitely came out rude. I’m very thankful you’ve offered to help me and-” you rambled, wanting the ground to swallow you up whole.

“No, no, it’s fine honestly. I’m happy to help you”

You obviously couldn’t see, but he was smiling so hard under the mask.

Peter had been crushing on you since you first met, and it’s safe to say you felt the same. But neither of you confessed your feelings, in fear of what might be ruined.

After moving all your furniture inside, you had thanked him about a million times.

“Your smile is beautiful, by the way.” He said, looking at you.

**

“And that’s how spiderman helped me with all my furniture. He’s such a gentleman” You smiled, pretending to be all smitten, “He even said my smile was beautiful.”

“He wasn’t wrong.” He said, barely audible.

Without the mask, Peter was very shy and awkward. The mask “completed” him, and he was always said he was nothing without it.

“Who even uses the word beautiful anymore? The chivalry! But he probably says that to every girl, right?” You giggled.

“No” he said quite quickly, only to receive a confused look from you, “I mean like, obviously he won’t say that to every girl because none of them have a pretty smile like you.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you could feel the heat in your cheeks rise. All you could muster out was a simple “shut up” as you looked away.

“Aw, did I make you nervous?” Peter teased, still flipping through the doodles.

“I want to kill you” you said, still attempting to hide your blush.

“Moving on,” Peter whistled, “I stand by the fact he’s probably old and musty.”

“No, no, he sounded young. Also, I saw his abs through his suit. Definitely not that old.” You smirked before bursting out laughing.

Peter clenched his jaw for a second, then realised his crush was literally checking him out.

“Gross.” Peter said, not even trying to wipe the smile off of his face.

a/n : part 2 :

#spiderman x you #marvel x reader #marvel x you #spiderman x reader #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #fanfic #fluff #peter parker fluff #friends to lovers #vigilante #friends

[charg3rs0ck3t]

Anti-heroism

(Alt title- “Save me?”)

TASM! Peter Parker x (vigilante) reader

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of domestic crimes, reader kills someone (not too graphic), almost death, knives, it’s really fucking long, some fluff.

((Unedited))

———————————————————————

Not everyone is worth being saved.

———————————————————————

The first time you really met Spiderman, your hands were around his neck. You were slowly tightening your grip, but, as you looked up to watch the life leave his eyes, something you had eagerly awaited, you stopped as he began to mumble.

You knew that voice.

God fucking damnit.

———————————————————————

You hated heroes. Hated how they were considered salvations to a broken society. Maybe if the rich gave a shit the divide wouldn’t be so great.

Society is run off greed.

And yeah, sometimes the rich do give a shit, you weren’t saying thats the prime evil, the problem comes when assholes use chaos and desperation to make quick cash.

New York City was a prime example of the cesspits designed by and for humanity. In the beginning, there was no night that went by without the sound of an ambulance and a hearse in pursuit with last nights leftovers.

Now they just skipped the ambulance and went straight in with the hearse.

The city chewed people up and spat them out dead.

Heroism is dangerous. It is a false alias for mass destruction and major loss of life, and yet claims to be for the good of the people. A core of wickedness, hidden in a faux utilitarian shell. A being not whole unless causing harm and calling themself in favour of those who they massacre.

Heroism is a plague of the mind, but it doesn’t acquaint to the evil it fights. In concept, the idea was perfect. That’s where you came in.

Neither hero nor villain, but one who admits and atones to their wrongs without a need to do so. You had no image to uphold, doing what was right and paying the cost that took.

At least.. at least until you decided to catch the attention of the ‘local hero’.

———————————————————————

Growing up in New York City had its perks, one such being direction. But it was still a big city, things where constantly changing, so it wasn’t uncommon for you to drop into an alley a block or so over from your intended destination.

Usually, this was fine, however how were you to react when you come face to face with The Spiderman adjusting his costume and packing away casual clothes into a duffle.

Clearly, he didn’t know either because as he seemed to be adjusting the material at his shoulders, he turned a caught a glimpse of you.

There you two stood, at a stale mate, perfectly acquainted through previous minor conflicts and slightly contrasting morals. He began to panic, it was dreadfully obvious when all he could seem to do was gape like a fish.

“Don’t worry spider-boy, knowing what you look like would take all the fun out of it!” You exclaimed, turning your back and walking away, chuckling to yourself as you scale a wall onto another building. Hoping to finally enjoy some peace.

What you didn’t expect however, was for him to follow you.

“Where are you going?” He said, trailing just behind you. He didn’t exactly know why he had followed you up here, but you confused him so and he was intrigued.

Peter knew he was no distinguished labelled hero, Hell, he was reminded by the papers every day. He knew and he accepted that, but he had every intention to be one, no matter what.

You however, you perplexed him. You seemed to hate the evil in the city, and so you did something about it. But you hated being called a hero, you didn’t do anything by the book. In fact there were times Peter found your methods barbaric and oddly personal.

He had watched you beat the literal shit out of your fair share of criminals, but you’d really let it out in cases of domestic crimes. For being so violent, you were so passionate and so caring to victims.

But you just didn’t want to be a hero. Trust that he knows that, he’s asked you on multiple occasions and that black eye from the last time he snuck up on you still aches on occasion.

“None of your business.” You retaliated to him tiredly, soon following with a yawn. You were exhausted, Rightfully so however. You had been parading around since your class ended and it was almost 11 PM by now.

All you wanted to do was get home, finish your coursework, take a bath and sleep.

But here you were, with an eyesore in tight spandex on your ass. You couldn’t go home with him tailing you, so you’d have to go horizontal to your apartment. Sitting on some random roof and hanging your legs over a darkened alley.

Hoping to have lost him, you glanced over your shoulder, only to see him staring at you from across the roof. You sighed, getting out some protein bar and opening it. Eating away as you stared into the busy streets.

The city truly never slept and amongst the ugliness and sorrow, the chaos and twinkling lights seemed ever beautiful and you smiled at the thought.

“Why do you do it?” He muttered as he sat next to you. Getting a hum in response only prompted him to continue. “I mean, you say you hate the city, that you’d leave it first chance you have.. but somewhere in there you must love it, or you wouldn’t do this, put yourself in danger just for the innocent.”

“That’s a dark way of looking at it Spider-man, I thought you were meant to be this place’s glimmer of light!” You laughed a little, majorly just trying to release the harsh tension. “It’s not the city, it’s the people, it’s the people who this place don’t deserve. I think no matter where I was I would have ended up like this because people need something to believe in.”

“Superhero speech! That was totally a superhero speech don’t even deny it! I got it all down!” He yelled accusingly but in a light tone, pointing at you. It was fond, as if you were just two old friends bantering with each other. Even if you did push him off the roof in response with a loud ‘would a superhero do this asshole!?’

But you knew he would catch himself, that he expected it was coming.

You hated heroes, but this one just seemed to be the exception.

———————————————————————

Peter was a sweet boy, respectful, but he was pained.

You could tell he was always hiding a deeper pain, sorrow he never let himself truly feel, sorrow he may never cure himself of.

He was your best friend, a shining ray of hope even through all the dirt, but even the brightest rays where darkened and scarred by the ugly smog that was the city.

Every time you talked to him, every happy moment, he never seemed to let himself truly enjoy it. He seemed to live in the future but always worry about the present.

How can one hope to fix the present if they treat it as the past? Simple answer, you can’t.

———————————————————————

It was another night in New York, even the lume of the many billboards couldn’t shine upon every shadowed corner. So, evil continued in the darkness.

You already hadn’t been having a great day, your job had double booked you for 2 meetings and you had spent hours being yelled at for trying to point out the issue. Plus, you had to miss one of your lectures because the meeting went over by an hour. So really you were just sick of today, wanting nothing more than to curl up at home with a bottle of wine and some shitty tv.

But, unfortunately for you, one of the gangs you’ve been trailing, notedly unsuccessfully, for the past month finally left a huge clue. They would be sending out another shipment tonight, dabbling in special enhancement drugs that made most people go insane.

So here you were, sat on a rooftop watching some goons bicker in-front of the entrance of the warehouse. You were calculating how long until the anonymous tip you’d send to the police would take to dispatch. Either way you had a good Fifteen minutes before anyone came running.

At least, that was until Spiderman decided to grace you with his presence. A presence that you really didn’t need right now, especially when already peeved off.

“What are we doing?~” He whispered mockingly, getting a glare in retaliation. But, not content with that answer he repeated the question again.

“Oh lord give me patience, or atleast a fucking knife.” You muttered to yourself. “ ‘we’ are doing nothing, you, you are going to leave me alone and go save another cat from a tree and I, I am going to go actually make a change in this city.”

He just laughed and shook his head at your response, “oh cmon! Why can’t we be partners! An iconic duo! Like Batman and Robin, Bonnie and Clyde or something!”

“We are not going to be either of those thi- wait shut up for a second.” He began to open his mouth but closed it as you stared intently below, the doors of the warehouse opening mockingly.

“Stay here!” You whispered, the last thing you needed was his moralistic hero speeches as you were using some guy as a punching bag. So as he stood obediently, you scaled down the building to an open window, Three stories high.

The room you entered seemed empty and cold, as though no one had been inside in years. Merely a week prior, their main base of operations was set up in here. It was all a trap.

But who had known you would be coming?

You got your answer in the form of a sharp stab at your side, looking down to find a knife expertly lodged in your flesh. It didn’t seem fatal or anything at the time, but it definitely hurt like a bitch.

Turning around to see the man, hands now covered in your blood, was effortless, even more so as your body seemed to simply flow, contorting in quivers of motion as you eventually left him a bloody pulp, dead, sprawled still upon the floor.

You couldn’t continue, you were tired, woozy and bleeding. Shipment or not, you would have to do this another night, plus you definitely couldn’t be around when the police turned up.

Seeing the flashing lights and hearing the sirens was what drove you to stand up and finally clamber out the window. Admittedly, not as gracefully as usual, but you got a free pass since the knife was still lodged pitifully into your side.

———————————————————————

It comes to a point in a persons life (typically as they’re jumping and weaving from one rooftop to another with their only intention to get home and patch up a literal stab wound), when they wonder if it’s all worth it.

This was that moment for you. As you stumbled from another roof, almost falling into the bustling streets below, you had to take a moment to catch a breath.

Turns out, even that seemed a bad idea because as you closed your eyes, you heard a whoosh of air and the thump of the hero, the one you seemed to come to know so much of, landing next to you.

Today really wasn’t your finest and all you seemed to want to do was sleep. It was infuriating and nothing was going your way.

“What do you want?” You hissed at him, you were in no mood to entertain. All you wanted was to close your eyes, maybe have a little nap, just so you could finally get home tonight.

He took one long look at you, staring at your slumping figure, drooping before him.

It was depressing to see you like this, he didn’t know what happened in the 20 minutes it’d been since you parted, but you were not in a good state. He was worried, and maybe, just maybe, he was scared.

As he went to go pick you up, or at least help you to your feet, his arms wrapped around you. His fingers finally trailed to the bloody hilt of the knife and he gasped, it was light and restricted, but he was shocked nonetheless and didn’t hide it well. He pulled his hand back and observing the reddened substance on his hands, before his eyes landed on your face.

“Calm down, it’s not toxic or anything- it’s just blood- not all of us can be ‘mr I never get hurt in fights’.” You slurred and hiccuped out the sentence, trying to uphold the typical rivalling ‘banter’ you two thrived on.

But He didn’t laugh.

The blank eyes of that mask just bore into yours, especially when he seemed to take in every detail of the injury.

“You are so lucky I care!-“ He was angry, thrashing his arms and pacing back and forward. “If I didn’t I’d shove you in a hospital right now and let them expose you to the world! Shove you off and not let you be my problem.” He was being mean, spiteful, but he was also saddened.

“If I recall Spiderman- you were the one who bothered me.” You laughed in a hushed tone, at least before grabbing at your side as a sharp sensation jolted through it. It hurt and you let out a soft sob.

“My name is Peter, If you’re gonna die here, tonight, on this shitty run down roof, you deserve to know my name.” He was downcast, turning to face you, to grasp a reaction. All he could see was the small shape of a smile under your own mask. How could you just sit there and smile at him? How could you do this to him at a time like this?

“I know, I’ve always known Pete. I probably wouldn’t have put up with you for so long if I didn’t…” you whispered out cautiously, causing his head to whip in your direction.

“How- wait! Wait- No- Please tell me it’s not you! Please (Name)! Please No!” He ran over, dropping to your side and ripping off his own mask before gently going to remove your own.

So you smiled at him, it’d been a few days since you last saw his real face. Even tear stained, his was your favourite.

“I’m sorry Pete, I didn’t mean for it to go this way. I knew, I knew since the first time I met you in costume. I tried to kill you, my hands were around your throat. You only escaped that night because of your voice. So maybe.. maybe this is karma? Maybe this is what I get for killing all of these people! Hell, I don’t regret it, maybe that makes it worse, but what does it all matter anyways if I die on this rooftop tonight?” It all came out in a blur, maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was fear, you couldn’t tell.

“You’re not gonna die tonight, not now I know it’s you. I’m gonna make sure you live.” He was crying, big tears welled up in his eyes, spilling onto his reddened cheeks.

“You can’t save everyone Peter, I know you want to, but you can’t. You can’t save me, not from what I’ve done and not from the consequences of that.” You knew you had done terrible things, and you knew that you didn’t regret a single one. You didn’t regret anything, except maybe dying without apologising, without telling him how you feel.

“No, no I can’t. But you can save yourself.”

———————————————————————

It all went by in a flash, there were moments when you were semi-lucid. You could look around, take it all in, but you couldn’t speak, couldn’t see faces.

You had been treated, not professionally and definitely not in a hospital, but well enough. You would live.

Finally waking up, you felt exhausted. You craved the idea of sleep, but you detested the days of nightmares you had been trapped in.

Not speaking when awake was something you could handle, but being stuck in a constant terror of false reality drove you insane. You saw Peter’s face in them, he was always distorted and full of rage.

“I hate you.” He’d say

“I will never forgive you.” He’d spit.

“If you had died, I’d have one less criminal on the streets to worry about.” He’d hiss.

You knew it wasn’t real, but it hurt all the same. Whilst you knew that those things he was saying were all in your dreams, all the things you had done were very much real.

It was cliché. You had only once rethought your path before now, that was the first time you had ever met him. He was a small boy, hardly could stand up for himself, but he was something good, infinitely flowing with hope for a better future.

Now here you were, trudging your way from the made up bed on his apartments couch. You’d been here many times before, when he was significantly less aware. Before, it always felt like home, but now it felt like even the walls had eyes that looked upon you with hate, pity and betrayal.

If anything, you wished you could apologise to this place you loved so much, to the lies you told under this sturdy roof and to the cement foundations that had fallen akin a victim to your actions.

You stood outside Peters room for a long while, staring at the Chipping paint at the corners of the door. Debating returning to the couch, but before you could retreat back a voice rang from within the room.

“Are you coming in?” He seemed calm, composed and confident.

Entering the room, he seemed all but that, he seemed anxious and at the same time relieved, he was scared and he was happy. He was confusing.

Walking forward was subconscious. Peter often struggled getting to sleep so you had slept in his room many times.

This time was different though, you weren’t just here because your study date ran over.

He gestured to the empty space upon the bed, so you tucked yourself under the duvet. His bed was comfortable, but you wrapped an arm around him and rested your head upon his chest. Your bodies both suddenly began jolting, he had begin to silently sob, and so you laid there, quietly shushing him as he cried, arms wrapped around him.

Finally the world felt right again, maybe he could save you, because If the world felt this good all the time you wouldn’t have to fight.

“Never do that to me again” he muttered finally.

“Okay.. I love you..” you murmured in response, nuzzling your head further into his chest.

“I love you too, we’ll talk in the morning.” He shuffled slightly to place a delicate kiss on your forehead before falling asleep with you finally in his arms again.

#angst #marvel angst #fluff #marvel #marvel fic #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker #peter parker fic #spider man #spiderman x reader #spiderman x reader angst #peter parker x reader #tasm peter angst #tasm peter x reader #x vigilante! reader #Spiderman x vigilante! reader #spider man x vigilante reader #marvel x villain! reader #hurt/comfort #Spiderman hurt/comfort #x reader hurt/comfort

[astyrial]

web boy mcu!peter parker x gn!vigilante!reader (fluff/rivals) synopsis: spiderman tries to stop you word count: 792 warnings: fighting, assault, blood masterlist | requests are open

    your fist collides with an older man's chin, a vine wrapping around his upper body as he falls backwards. you turn around to see his co-worker of sorts. the man holds his hands up, his baseball bat now pointing towards the sky. you lean forward a little, your face calm and collected, "how about you make this easy for me... where is she?" 

  "what are you talking about?" his head shakes, his foot taking a step back as you take a few steps towards him.

  you purse your lips, your eyes narrowing in his direction, "you don't know? how about the girl you knocked upside the head with that bat? does that ring a bell or did the message not come through?"

  he shakes his head again, the bat falling from his hand and hitting against the path. "that girl? she's just down the way, behind a pile of rocks," he points towards a few rock formations not too far from you. 

  you tilt your head, an eyebrow raised in speculation. instead of just leaving him to his own, you take another step forward; your fingers quickly touch his jacket and vines run along his legs. they climb up until they're sticking his arms to his body, his body falling over into the nearby grass. 

  once satisfied that he doesn't leave, you turn around and run towards the rock formations. the first formation doesn't have anyone there, as well as the second. you reach the last one and see a young woman laying on the ground. she has a bit of red running down her hair. her clothes are slightly bloodied as well.

  you open your palm against the ground, a large leaf spawns, allowing you something to cover the wound. you set it against the bleeding spot, along with a vine that wraps around her forehead to hold it there. you hold one arm under her shoulder and the other below her knees. 

  "what do you think you're doing?" a masculine voice echos from above you, a shadow blocking the street light.

  you let go of the girl, quickly turning around to see a figure crouching on the large rock. a fighting stance instantly overtakes you. when the light reflects a little, you can finally see that it is the neighborhood 'friendly' spiderman. "what do you want web boy?" 

  "web boy? haven't heard that one before," he jumps high into the sky, flipping over you until he lands a few feet away. 

  you roll your eyes, your hands reaching down to pick up the girl again. the two of you had only interacted a couple times, but you knew his reputation of working with the avengers. he definitely wasn't a threat. something hits your hand, your fingers sticking to your palm.

  "what are you doing?" you question, your hand flexing against the webbing. 

  "stopping you, obviously? the avengers don't know who are you, i don't know who you are," he then fwips another thing of webbing against against your shoe and the grass. 

  you sigh, your eyes closing for a second. without moving, the ground begins to shake, as if an earthquake is starting. pebbles hit against the path and your eyes open with a slight green hue suddenly rising. "you don't need to know who i am," a vine shoots out of the ground, wrapping itself around spiderman's forearm. 

  you slip your feet from your shoes, figuring you needed a new pair anyway... you lower to the ground, letting a plant tear the webbing from your hand. "see you around web boy, maybe next time you won't attack someone trying to help," you pick up the younger woman, making sure to keep her held tightly in your arms.

  "if you wanna help, why don't you consider the avengers, it's better than working alone," spiderman calls out after you as you start walking down the path. 

  you turn around, shaking your head, "depends on who you are. now, make sure not to tear any plants, they hold grudges. oh, and maybe alert the police, the perpetrators are just down that way."

  spiderman's lenses widen in confusion as you run off in the direction of the closest hospital. he pulls his arm from the plant, only for another vine to wind upwards and grapple onto his leg. it slithers up until it  is holding both legs to each other; his upper body weight toppling him over.

  he grumbles, "karen, can you not tell anyone about this unless i can't free myself?"

  "okay peter! would you like me to do something to help?" her voice rings through his mask, more chipper than he was hoping to listen to. 

  "maybe play some music, i don't know how long it'll be until i'm free."

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x reader #mcu!spiderman x reader #mcu!spiderman #vigilante!reader #vigilante!y/n #mcu!peter parker

[backtothefanfiction]

A Matter Of Life And Death | tasm!Peter x vigilante reader

Warnings- angst, death, injuries

Summary- things take a major twist for you and Peter in the middle of a skirmish, but that doesn’t seem to be the only twist.

A/N- Just another short one based on the prompt “it’s odd the things you remember when you watch someone die”. This is just freaking angsty because I’m forever in my feels.

~ Peter’s POV

It’s odd the things you remember when you’re watching someone die. Their laugh. The way they completely flipped you over their body when you first met. Stealing your food before you had even gotten a chance to eat it. Laughing at peoples misfortunes. The faces they pull when trying to entice you into a quicky at the end of the night… And it’s because of all that and more, she was the last person I ever thought would sacrifice her own life for that of an other. She’s done nothing but challenge me and mock me but also surprise me…there really is no one like her and now there wouldn’t be again.

When we first met on that rooftop 4 months ago, she stood there in her black and pink suit, hand outstretched and said she was the most interesting person I would ever meet and now she’s….

I mean she’s….

Peter looked down at his gloves as he held her body, unable to look at her face. He’d initially pulled her mask up to help her breathe but it was no use, she wasn’t breathing, her body was limp. He couldn’t meet her eyes, her cold glassy eyes, but looking down at his hands and her body before him was no better. There was so much blood.

He missed it. He should have caught it. She shouldn’t have had to be the one to push that kid out the way. To take the full force of the blow instead, it should have been him. He should have done it. He should have done a lot of things.

He should have told her how he felt, not hid behind his previous pain which only doubles now it’s happened again. Another lover, lost to this dangerous way of life.

He slowly let his head fall over her chest, his arms wrapping protectively around her body. They had been fighting side by side every day since that first night, even slept beside each other some nights. After everything with Gwen, he finally didn’t feel alone. But that was different again now. It was just him again now. Just-

He feels it in his sense first, but it happens too quickly. He only just has time to move his head out the way as her body suddenly sits up as she takes in a large gulp of air.

“Wow, wow, wow.” He quickly holds out his hands to allow her something to brace herself on. Her chest heaves rapidly as her eyes dart around at the scene until they land on the familiar sight of his mask. They calm for the smallest of moments before they grow frantic again, her hand reaching for her chest.

“Parker, what the fuck happened?!” Her fingers claw at her chest as if it will rip the panic from where it currently resides so she can feel her heartbeat and be sure she’s alive.

Peter can’t help but look her over in disbelief as her wounds began to fuse back together before his very eyes.

“I believe you just came back from the dead.” He quips trying to break the tension. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Neither did I.” There’s a pause as they both drink in this moment and she’s finally able to pick up on his body language. “Were you crying Parker?” She jokes, a smile breaking out over her face.

“Uh. What? No.” He tries to shake her off, acting cool, still trying to impress her after all these months.

“Yeah, you were.” She says as he starts to help her up.

She leans into his body as she tries to find her balance, pulling her mask back down with one hand, before he helps her hobble back up the street. Her body still slowly healing as sirens blare in the background.

“So does this mean you’re immortal?”

“Not now Parker.”

#tasm peter x reader #spiderman #the amazing spider man #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield peter parker #spiderman x hero reader #spiderman x vigilante reader #angst

[justice-maul]

Hot Cocoa~ Peter Parker x Winged Male Reader

Word count: 2,360

Request(s):

Ello hi would like winged male reader x peter Parker,so like the reader has wing but peter does not know about it ,the reader is a superhero called nightwing and peter and him has crossdress but never saw one another without their mask and ,male reader thought that he would tell peter also pure fulff I can imagine so excited (sorry if it is too much) Love-night anon <3

Hey! Can I request fluff spider-man(tom) x male reader with wings also he is a super hero like tom and reader is best friend but tom and reader have feeling for each other and tom finds out that reader is a super hero and he is just so excited

Author Note: sorry if this took a while I tried to accommodate both requests but please remember English isn’t my first language and tried to make it up to both of you by writing a lot more stuff than usual

I’m one of the many vigilantes that New York City has but I mostly work in queens where another powered hero works the famous Spider-Man

I’ve seen him many times during my work he always talks a lot and asks me a ton of questions about my wings so I try not to answer too many for fear of my identity being figured out

I work and patrol every night but by morning I’m completely normal I have to make sure everything about me is completely hidden so working in the dark like Batman or something is my best option

By morning I’m a barista at a coffee shop where I work with my friends Ned and Mj who have all been my friends since high school

And then there’s Peter Parker, I’ve also known him for the same amount of time but I’ve always been in love with him

He visits the shop every morning and afternoon talking to Mj and Ned and trying to talk to me but it’s like every time we see each other neither of us knows what to say

Today was a slow day so we closed up early and then stayed over hours sitting down drinking hot cocoa while Ned was talking about a new video game

Mj was making a bunch of jokes about what a nerd he was and I couldn’t help but laugh at the jokes as Mj suddenly changed her attention to me

“Sooooo you and Peter huh?” She said looking at me with a sly smile as I scoffed and shook my head watching as she and Ned exchanged a look

“Where just friends ok?” I said as both of them huffed at that rolling their eyes at me as I shrugged them off taking a sip of my drink

“Ok well you can tell him that when he gets here,” Ned said as he and Mj started chuckling both watching my shocked expression

“What? You called him here?!” I said practically yelling as heat ruse up in my face and Mj took her time sipping her drink before answering me

“Yeah it’s a slow day so we wanted to have him join us and maybe get you guys to finally talk,” she said laughing at my reaction

“Oh come on it’ll be fun we can all just hang out,” Ned said with a big grin as I groaned out a small fine and they both cheered clinking their cups before chugging it down

I went to go make another batch of cocoa for everyone including Peter as I was almost done I noticed that my wings were feeling uncomfortable

I’ve never had them like that for a long period and it hurt a ton I peeled out of the back and saw Mj and Ned and called out to them

“Hey, guys I'm gonna use the bathroom real quick ok?” I said as they both said alright before Mj said

“Just don’t take too long lover boy!” And they both erupted into laughter as I walked into the bathroom I removed my clothes and let out my wings

They were stalls in the bathroom but none of them could possibly fit my wings as they were to large when they spread out

I groaned as they spread out slowly, I rolled my shoulders and flapped them a bit to get more movement in them to try and soothe them a bit

Peter Parker’s Pov:

Mj and Ned had invited me to the store saying that it was a slow day, I had just finished with my patrol and decided it would be good to see my friends and the guy I like

I walked there and knocked on the door as I heard them fighting over which one should get up and open the door I chuckled to myself at their behavior

Ned ended up opening the door as Mj shot him a look from where she was sitting I stepped inside taking in the homey smell and the atmosphere

“Where’s y/n,” I asked them as they both looked at each tiger with smug smiles that made my face heat up

“He’s in the bathroom” Ned replied locking the door again and walking back to his seat as I joined them

“Ned hand him your controller,” Mj said as he groaned at that sounding offded

“Why do I have to do that! I suggested the game” he whined as she scoffed at his behavior

“Because he’s good at it,” she said as he let out a hurt gasp at the accusation she gave him

“Hey it’s fine I don’t have to play I can just watch you guys,” you said trying not to escalate anything as Ned gave a happy smile and Mj rolled her eyes

I watched as they played against each other Ned losing as she laughed at him and even though Mj makes fun of us for being nerds she was always secretly one or not secret

“Hey y/n hasn’t been back for a while shouldn’t we check on him?” Ned asked curiously eyeing both as we started to notice his absence

“I think Peter should go, since he’s the only one not playing,” Mj said as Ned both nodded at me not giving me room to argue as my face turned red

“Alright I’ll see if he’s ok” I got up and headed through the back to the bathroom, I assumed he would be in a stall so I opened the door with no second thought only to be completely taken aback at the sight before me

Reader’s Pov

My head whipped around as I and Peter made eye contact and we both stood there frozen neither of us making the first move both standing completely shocked

I had known that someone could walk in at any time but I was sure It was locked I was always careful but the slow day must have messed me up

Knowing I couldn’t have him say anything to the others I pulled him inside and locked the door behind me and turned to face him as he watched me speechless

“Peter you can’t say a thing to the others do you understand?” I said practically begging him grabbing his shoulders to emphasize my point as he looked at me with wide eyes

“Y-yeah yeah! I won’t tell anyone I promise,” he stuttered out pondering something on his mind and I knew the question

“Yes I’m the vigilante with wings Peter,” I said sighing as he smiled brightly at me practically beaming

“That’s the coolest thing ever! How do you use them? Are you an alien? Can you fight with them?” He was practically attacking me with questions and I couldn’t help but feel that he was adorable

“I use them like any bird, I’m not alien, and not that well,” I answered as he smiled at my replies my body finally relaxed but my feathers felt uncomfortable

I groaned again as I moved them a bit spreading them out further as Peter watched in awe

“Do they hurt?” He asked in genuine concern with a small pout, his empathetic nature always helped me feel better

“Only when I keep them in the same position for too long they kinda feel packed in the same area but I can’t reach most of them,” I said showing him by reaching a hand back

“Do you want me to help you?” Turning my head to look back at him he smiled more softly at me this time not trying to overstep any boundaries

“Fine, but don’t treat me like some type of lab rat,” I said pulling them back in to face the mirror before completely spreading them out to the point where I couldn’t see Peter anymore

“That’s so cool,” he said lowly this time running his fingers atop my feathers and I sighed at the gentle touch practically leaning into it

“Don’t waste time just spread them out a bit and if they look out of place, put them back if you can,” I said telling him to do knowing that he probably would have been confused

“Ok, got it.” He said testing the water by spreading out a few feathers farther out near the top of my wing as he gently pulled on them careful not to hurt me

It felt like getting a good back rub and honestly, Peter was pretty damn good at this his hands were almost made for this in a way

He started moving in toward my back as he finally reached the end and ran his hand over it making me turn my head at him as he made eye contact with me

“Sorry” he quickly said getting back to work and moving onto my other wing and giving it the same care and treatment as the other working his way gently towards the end as he made sure or be extra careful with himself

He finally finished with both smoothing out both of my wings and putting them into place one final time before pulling back

I reclined my wings and turned to face him grabbing my shirt from atop the sink as he finally seemed to notice the fact that I was shirtless blushing and turning away

I chuckled at his reaction putting on my work shirt and buttoning it up fixing any creases before putting on the apron and tying it around me as he stood there nervously chewing his nails

“Thanks for the help I needed that,” I said trying to break the silence as he finally looked up at me and I gave him a smile to which he so gladly returned

“It’s no big deal I can help you next time if you ever need it again,” he spoke out turning an even darker shade

“Plus,” he added “I get what it’s like with the whole vigilante thing,” he said looking up at me as he was trying to gaze at my reaction

“What do you mean?” I asked urging him on as he pondered what to tell me

“Well don’t tell anyone but I’m um kind of Spider-Man,” he said sounding unsure of himself

“What do you mean kind of?” I asked as he looked down embarrassed

“Let me just show you,” he said grabbing a bracelet-like a thing and putting it on his wrist before he used it showing his webs

“Holy shit,” I let out astonished at that as he giggled a bit at my reaction

“I built these but I do have powers like super strength and stuff,” he said scratching the back of his neck

“That’s pretty cool Peter, you always did have a heroes heart,” I said smiling at him as he did the same bashfully

“Well maybe we could talk about it sometime or even team up how cool would that be?” He said excitedly

“And we can share how we both got these abilities and help each other with this” he continued rambling

“Sure we could set up a date,” I said smugly as he nodded at that

“We should probably get back before the tiger starts getting suspicious,” I said pointing to the door he agreed and he walked out

I walked into the kitchen and motioned for him to come with me as he stood by me watching as I was finishing up the cups I had made earlier

“Who else knows?” I asked him not facing him this time focused entirely on the drinks

“Just Ned he helps sometimes but no one else, you?” He asked eyeing me curiously as I mixed in some caramel in all four cups

“No one knows your the first,” I answered nonchalantly as I added some whipped cream and a ton of marshmallows with caramel drizzled on top

I finally turned to face him as I noticed his face looking happy and almost fulfilled at my response

I turned my body completely toward him as I approached him and he looked up at me innocently

“Peter, I’ve liked you for some time now can I know if you feel the same?” I asked him lowly making sure he could still hear me and watching as his ears turned red and he blushed

“I like you too I have for a while,” he said just as low as I grabbed his chin and leaned in to kiss him softly pressing a sweet kiss on his lips as he put his hand on the counter steadying himself

I pulled away and he looked behind him in shock and clear embarrassment as I followed his gaze to see Mj and Ned standing behind us in the doorway

They both had smug looks on their faces as Mj reached out her hand towards Ned and he handed her some money groaning

“I told you I could make them confess,” she said pride radiating off of her as she smiled

I just laughed at the two's antics grabbing their cups and handing them to them as they both accepted them eagerly

“Thanks, y/n you make the best cocoa,” Ned said taking a big gulp of it Mj agreed, nodding as she sipped her drink

I turned to hand Peter his drink who gave me a small and quiet thank you before taking a sip himself and nodding his head

“Ok let’s go watch a movie or something else I’m bored with nerdy games,” Mj said turning around and heading out as Ned followed out

I took my own cup and gently grabbed Peters's hand as he smiled at me and we walked out together hand in hand sipping our drinks

We sat down with the gang fighting over which we should choose and Mj tell us that all of our movie choices suck before we all decided to watch some cheesy movie laughing the entire time

Being a hero it’s normal for me to feel alone usually, but sitting here with everyone watching a movie drinking some cocoa, and finally having someone I could trust with my secret felt nice to have even if it was just for a second

~The End~

#peter parker tom holland #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #mcu spiderman #spider man: no way home #spider man #tom holland fluff #spiderman x reader #tom holland x reader #winged #winged reader #hero reader #vigilante x reader #vigilante reader #answered asks #answered #transmac friendly #mcu multiverse #mcu fandom #marvel mcu #mcu #and definitely a lot of marvel #marvel x male reader #marvel #avengers imagine #avengers x male reader #transmasc friendly

[astermath]

uhmmmm

kitchen counter makeouts with pookie bear tasm peter <3

— @inkluvs (ivy)

the way you know damn well you are indulging me adjdkdk and I love you for it bae MWAH @inkluvs

pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

tags: just sweet ol fluff, established relationship, first time writing for peter, normal sized text under the cut! <3

word count: 1.2.K

let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further peter parker related content!

With Peter going on patrol until the nightly hours, you'd become used to cooking dinner later in the day. It wasn't a huge deal; you worked from home, and you were usually up when he was back anyways. Whether it was to tend to his injuries, hear about what he'd encountered that day, or just to cook some of his favorite pasta, you were always there for him when he returned. And he really appreciated that.

When you're a superhero, especially an anonymous one, it can be hard to find people to fall back on. That's why he considers having you one of his greatest strengths.

You're absentmindedly stirring some sauce when your boyfriend slips in through the bedroom window. He calls it the "spider-door", you call it a bad habit. He still uses it anyways. It's hard to use the front door of your apartment when you're dressed like the city's most popular vigilante.

He can smell the delicious mix of herbs and ingredients from the other room. The stress from the day was already melting off him, and he hadn't even spoken to you yet. He'd taken the liberty of slipping out of his suit and into a comfortable pair of sweats and a shirt. Although he did think it was snazzy, after wearing it almost the entire day, he couldn't wait to be out of it.

A pair of familiar strong arms wind around your waist, an even more familiar pair of lips pressing a soft kiss to the crook of your neck. You're used to it by now, the unexpected, sneaky greetings late at night. You weren't spooked by him, you rarely were. He likes to think his spidey senses have rubbed off on you.

He breathes in the scent of you, cheek resting onto your shoulder, and you can feel him relax into you.

"Good to see you too baby," you move your head to press a chaste kiss to his head, "how was patrol?"

"Fine," he sounds tired, and it's kind of hot, "stopped that coffee shop you like from being broken into."

"My hero," you chuckle, "now I won't have to miss those delicious chocolate croissants."

He whines lowly in response. It's a stark contrast to how he usually is, all talkative, giddy, boyish grins and jokes, bubbly laughter and strong hugs. Being a superhero will do that to you. Not exactly change you, just tire you out. A lot.

"Tired?" You ask, eyes remaining on the sauce you were preparing. It was a dumb question, of course he's tired, but he always hated admitting it.

To your surprise, he doesn't respond. Instead, he leans down and starts pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder again. You silently thank your past self for wearing a tank top, so he had plenty of access to your skin.

His lips leave tingles in their wake, your sauce becoming less interesting by the second, until you eventually turn around. You sigh at the sound of him; his hair is messy, his eyebags are prominent and he definitely needs a shower, but boy is he pretty. So pretty.

He lets you take a second to admire him, like he knows you love to do. Hands come up to cup his cheeks, the tiniest bit of stubble scratching against your palms. Your face is graced by an adoring smile, and that alone always lets him know; everything's okay, I got you.

He leans down, lips searching yours again. You happily indulge, one hand sneaking into the hair at the back of his neck. The kiss is longing, practically aching to be closer. You can feel how much he missed you just by the way his hips slide over yours.

His hands settle onto your waist, and for a moment you think he's just going to let them stay there. Of course not, because your boyfriend is anything if not unpredictable. With a gentle grip he lifts you up and turns the both of you around, setting you down onto the counter across the stove.

You giggle through the kiss, and you can feel him smile along with you, but he doesn't let go. It's like he can't, and not in a "help I just got spider powers and now I'm glued to you" way, no, like a "I'm so in love with you that I want this to last forever" way.

His hands settle onto your thighs, thumbs rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. It's like this is what recharges him. Not food, not water, this is what he survives on. Your pure unconditional affection.

Unfortunately for the two of you, humans do need air to live, so you're forced to pull away after a while. Still, you remain close, noses rubbing together ever so slightly, foreheads leaning against each other.

“You ‘kay sweetie?” Your voice is gentle, not wanting to ruin the tooth achingly sweet moment the two of you are having.

“Mhm…” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Just so happy to see you again… I missed you.” he accentuates his words with another kiss. “A lot.”

A warm smile adorns your face when he admits to his longing for you. You know he misses you, he tells you every day, and he knows that the sentiment is returned. You both have your reasons to be missing each other; with Peter being a superhero, he has to be careful, so the reality of any day possibly being his last was… Present. Plus, it’s a busy job. Besides the one he already has.

You just enjoy each other’s presence for a moment, basking in the radiating glow of what could only be described as an aura of love. It was like nothing outside that kitchen mattered anymore, at least not for now. You and Peter against the world, out of your small apartment in Queens.

“Honey?” He asks, and you think he’s going to say something else really sweet and heartwarming to really drive the point home. Until you see the furrow in his brows.

“I think, uh— whatever you were making is burning.”

“Fuck!” You hopped off the counter and went back to the pot of sauce, groaning when you realised the bottom of it was burnt. “It’s fine, I can— I can salvage this.” You looked over at your boyfriend, who had an apologetic smile on his face. “We can make out all you want after I make you dinner, ‘kay?”

“And every day after?” His voice is gentle, his hand resting on your lower back to keep some form of physical contact with you.

“Of course,” you stand on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek, “every day after too.”

#aster writes spiderman #petermath #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter x you #+ tasm!spiderman #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm fic #tasm peter #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!spiderman x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter

[ad7red]

Hey!! Can I have Peter and his gf who's not rlly smart but catches a mistake Peter made in his hw and teases him but he doesn't mind? Thanks xx!

smarty pants | peter parker.

bf!peter parker x reader

this has been sitting in my inbox for a WHILEE i am sorry!

not proofread, no warnings

-

you had just bombed your math quiz and you could not feel any worse. math just wasn’t your thing, ela or history? sure, but math and you were never getting along. and that was a fact.

the only person who might’ve been able to raise your spirits was your one and only genius vigilante boyfriend, peter. which led to you vigorously knocking on his apartment door like you did many times, expecting to be greeted by a familiar peter, instead being met with his aunt may.

“hey, there sweet pea! peter won’t be home for a while, but would you like to come in and wait in his room for him?” you nodded while thanking her, being in his room would help remind you of him.

she walked you to his room, though being here so many times you know the place like the back of your hand.

when you walked into his room you were welcomed with messy algebra homework as well as half-done history homework scattered all over his desk.

you hopped down onto his undone bed and patiently waited for peter to come back to tell him all about how math was the worst subject known to man.

-

after what felt like forever you finally heard the bedroom door creek open, with the curly head following.

“hey, sunshine? how are you?” he said while placing a kiss on top of your forehead. you pouted before responding, and that’s when peter knew he was in for a doozy.

“terrible! peter, i failed my math quiz!” flapping your arms up and down for emphasis. peter patted your shoulder, his way of saying ‘i’m sorry’.

“c'mon, it can’t be that bad” peter was sorely mistaken. it was that bad.

“i got a 25%.” he made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth, as though it physically hurt him to hear that grade.

“i mean, whose bright idea was it to come up with trigonometric functions? when will i ever use that in my entire life?” you began to rant. the grade was irritating you considering you’ve never gotten lower than a c in math.

“okay, come show me what you need trouble with.” peter said while pulling you up from his bed and leading you to his untidy desk.

you told him what was confusing you and he thoroughly explained it, but you couldn't seem to focus with that history homework on his desk.

“it's italy.”

“what..?”

“which country did the renaissance begin in? you said germany but it's italy.” he quickly scanned over the question again, skimming over the small paragraph before it.

“you got me, good job smarty pants!” he wasn’t sour or bitter about it all. if anything, he was happy, he knew how much it would mean to you if you corrected the smartest person you knew.

“i am a bit of smarty pants aren’t i?” and with that both you and peter started to explode in a fit of giggles.

-

#LMFAO i remember when i got a 25 on my test #peter parker aka THE smarty pants #sam writes #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm fic #tasm!peter x reader #bf!peter #fluff #mcu #mcu x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman homecoming

[readerthatreadsss]

Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

#tasm peter parker #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter smut #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!peter x y/n #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield #marvel smut #smut #oneshot #welcome back #tasm!peter parker smut

[moonstruckme]

hi!

can i request tasm!peter meeting reader after having to do long distance?

if not thats okay! love your writing:)

have a great day<3

Thanks lovely, hope you have a great day as well!

Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 683 words

You don’t just give out copies of the key to your apartment, so when the front door opens you think you’re about to be shot. 

Breath caught in your throat, you freeze in the hallway and say the first deterrent that comes to mind. “I’ve got a gun!” 

The laughter that responds is as familiar as it is cheeky. “No, you don’t,” Peter says. 

“Jesus.” Your heart starts again, and in that split second your feet are already moving. 

Peter opens his arms as you throw yourself at him, taking your weight happily. “Nope, just me,” he quips, his harsh grip at odds with the levity of his voice. 

“Still a bad joke.” Your own voice is thick with fondness. You press your face into his neck, getting your boyfriend as close as you can. “What are you doing here?” 

“I live here.” He gives your upper back an excited squeeze. “You miss me?” 

“Not even,” you mumble into his shoulder. You go ahead and wrap your legs around his waist, and Peter chuckles, starting to walk the both of you towards your couch. “You scared the shit out of me, you know.”

“Yeah, maybe not my best plan.” He collapses downward, and you fold yourself around him more completely, getting comfortable in his lap. You think you’ll just never leave, honestly. “I thought the surprise would be more fun than scary.” 

“I could’ve met you at the airport.” 

“May would’ve killed me.” He palms the back of your neck, lips finding your hairline. “She wanted to pick me up herself, but she’s letting you have me for dinner. I have to be back by ten.” 

You let out a petulant whine. “Why does she get to decide?” 

You adore Peter’s aunt and he knows it, but when you’re having to battle her for custody of your boyfriend all that love goes right out the window. 

“I know,” Peter commiserates. “You’d think after a semester of taking care of myself in another country, I’d be allowed to stay out until at least eleven.” 

You hum, vacating your spot in the juncture of his neck in favor of seeing his face. You pet down the cowlick at the crown of his head, and Peter catches your hand, kissing your palm. A warm thrumming starts up in your chest. It’s similar to the sensation you’d gotten during your evening calls while Peter was abroad (well, your evening, his late night), but more. Better. You’ve missed feeling it like this. 

“How was Hertfordshire?” you ask. 

Peter gives you a look like you’re being silly. “I told you already.” 

“It’s different in person.” 

He smiles, thinking. “Small. Grassy. Cute, but not much to swing off of.” There’d been no vigilante work while Peter did his research abroad. He talked like it was a welcome break, but you could tell he missed it. Something changes in his look, eyes going soft and flirty. “No pretty girls.” 

You bite back a smile. “Let’s not do the women of Hertfordshire a disservice,” you chide.

“Fine.” Peter rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “None of my pretty girl.” 

He lifts his chin and you oblige him, touching your lips to his. It’s a kiss months in the making, and it heats quicker than either of you are expecting. Your heart thunders and throbs to the point of aching. You shuffle closer in Peter’s lap and his hand presses into the small of your back, both of your breathing turning harsh and desperate. 

“Missed you,” he says into your mouth. 

“I missed you more.” 

“Wanna bet?” Peter lifts you off the couch, and his casual strength shouldn’t surprise you anymore but it does. You laugh, again wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Shouldn’t we start to think about dinner?” you ask as he carries you towards your bedroom. 

He hums, reluctant. “What time is it?” 

You look to the side to check the clock on your microwave, and he kisses your cheekbone while you do. “Almost seven.” 

Peter hums against your skin, pressing another kiss to the side of your nose. “We’ve got time.”

#tasm!peter parker #tasm!spiderman #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x self insert #tasm!peter parker fanfic #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker blurb #tasm!peter parker scenario #tasm!peter parker drabble #tasm!peter parker one shot #tasm!peter parker oneshot #the amazing spiderman fanfiction #the amazing spiderman #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #the amazing spiderman fandom #the amazing spiderman x reader

[loverwebs]

It's Supposed to be Fun, Turning 21

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Peter, doesn't make it to your birthday dinner. So you walk home alone, only to run into the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Warnings: Slight angst & mentions of alcohol

Word count: 1,700

A very tired Y/n stumbled over the bumpy sidewalk of New York, cursing under her breath whenever she nearly stepped in a puddle. Her purse was crossed along her body and a bottle of wine swung from her hand.

She made her way home quickly and in annoyance, not wanting to be out any longer than she had to. With that in mind, she took a shortcut through an alleyway.

"Ma'am, stop right there!" A voice behind her shouted. She hesitantly turned, about to blow the person off, before she saw the city's masked hero within a few feet's distance.

"Holy shit! Oh, fuck did I do something? If it's the wine— I'm legally allowed to own it! And I have my ID, so please don't arrest me. I'm not even drunk!” a startled Y/n shouted.

"No, no! It’s okay," The vigilante approached her.

"Oh, okay," She said, touching her heart and sighing in relief. "Sorry for getting all jumpy there. It’s been a long day."

"No, you're fine! I didn't mean to scare you. I was just gonna say, you really shouldn't be walking home by yourself. It's not exactly safe, especially at night," He explained through an overly deepened voice.

"I know it's not," Sighed the girl. "My friends tried to get me to walk home with them, but my place isn't that far. And I'm really not in the mood to talk to anyone."

She continued her path, glancing back at him to add a quick, "No offense."

"None taken," He replied through a jog, catching up to her. "Did you just happen to be carrying around a bottle of wine with you, though?" He softly laughed at her antics.

"Uhh, yeah, just tonight." She returned a weak one.

"What's the occasion?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.

"It's my birthday. I'm 21 now and I wanna have my first drink with my boyfriend. He couldn't make it to my party and the restaurant let me bring one home with me."

She smiled sadly, lifting the bottle up so he could see the written For the birthday girl, enjoy! that a waitress had signed in permanent marker.

Peter felt guilty hearing this. Not only because he didn't make it to her birthday, but because she still waited for him. Wanting to share the special moment— despite him having missed it entirely.

"Happy birthday, then." The masked boy spoke, voice cracking as he said it. "I hope you spent it well."

"It was... eh. But thank you."

"Why was it 'eh'?" He asked, holding his breath.

"It's just, I don't know." She shrugged, not wanting to get into it.

She pondered for a moment, then, "I'm not trying to be rude or like, ungrateful, but don't you have actual Spider-Man stuff to do?"

He shook his head, "Making sure you get home safely is just as important as any other mission to me... plus, I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"That's nice, but I wouldn't want you to stop helping someone who actually needs it because of me."

"It's fine," He waved a hand in dismissal. "Don't even worry about it. I was pretty much done for the night anyway."

All she did was nod, not entirely convinced, then he spoke again.

"Sooo.. your birthday," He started.

"Right, yeah. It was fine, I guess."

"How come?"

"You're already walking me home, the last thing I want is for you to be my therapist too." She joked.

"Well, maybe I could help cheer you up... I like to help people. It's what I do."

"My friends already tried.. and failed. What makes you think you can?"

"I'd try my luck," He suggested. "Or we could walk in awkward silence."

She laughed at that, to which he said, "So what's got you down?"

"Okay, I mean.. like I said, my boyfriend didn't show up at the restaurant, soo I kinda spent the whole night staring at the door in case he did."

"Oh." He mumbled. "Sounds like a shitty boyfriend," He whispered, a little more to himself.

"He isn't," She shook her head a few too many times.

"He's naturally late to things, yeah. And he can't always make it to stuff. But when he is there.. His presence makes everything so much better." She said truthfully.

Peter hummed in understanding, his heart feeling heavy at her defending words. Here he was in a Spider-Man suit, meanwhile she wore her best party outfit. Not even cursing at the boy for his absence.

He didn't deserve her, he thought.

"Did he at least call? You know, saying he couldn't make it?"

Silence filled the air momentarily, which was enough of an answer. Still, she said, "He usually does..."

"Yeah?" He swallowed the forming lump in his throat.

"He— he always lets me know if he can't. And he did wish me a Happy Birthday! It's just— he's— I don't know what's going on with him anymore." She gave a teary laugh.

"Sometimes, it just feels like he's gonna break up with me. I feel like he wants to do it, but he's waiting around for the perfect opportunity, y'know?" She quickly wiped her now forming tears. "Sorry, I sound really pathetic."

"What?! No. No... You don't." He paused. "You— you really think he's gonna break up with you?" He dreadfully asked.

"I don't know," She gave a weak shrug. "He's like, distant lately."

"Have you.. Have you tried talking to him about it?"

"I've tried, yeah." She chewed on her lip nervously, thinking of the many instances where he canceled at the last minute when she intended on speaking with him.

"Like just this week, I asked to meet up after his afternoon class because I wanted to know if something was wrong, but..." She trailed off, holding back more tears.

"He canceled," He finished her sentence, wincing at her confirming nod.

"Right, and it's like, what am I doing wrong?" She added helplessly.

"Nothing! You're not doing anything wrong," He said through an interior panic.

"Doesn't feel like it."

They continued walking as Peter thought of the correct words to say. She'd laid her thoughts right there at his feet and he didn't know what the right move was.

He gave a desperate sigh, then proceeded to say, "I don't think he wants to break up with you."

"Seriously? That's what you're gonna tell me? You don't know that—"

"Hear me out... It's just, you know. Maybe he has a lot going on and.." He started, feeling overwhelmed.

"And maybe he hasn't been able to really tell you everything he wants you to know because he's scared. Scared to lose you. Or scared that you're already slipping away from him." He rambled on.

She slowed down her pace, tilting her head at him as a sense of familiarity within his words settled in.

He wasn't faking his tone anymore, and she wasn't as in her head as she was when he first found her.

"But you're not doing anything wrong, okay, Y/n?" He continued, voice breaking as he stepped closer to her. "I can promise you that."

She looked around to make sure the streets were empty before abruptly stopping in her tracks, eyeing him, when it finally clicked for her. She inched closer to him, while her shaky fingers tentatively reached towards the bottom of his mask.

She did so slowly, making sure he had time to stop her if he wanted to.

"Wait," He put his hand over hers. "It's not really.. It's not safe to do that here."

She understood and immediately withdrew her hand, taking a few steps back.

"Do you trust me?" He walked towards her, carefully placing his hands on her hips. With a nod, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Just like that, he aimed at a nearby building and shot a web, swinging with her in his arms. Her body tightly hugged him as they made their way to the rooftop of Peter's old apartment building. The same place they had their first date.

A sloppy "Happy Birthday" was webbed above the projector that was setup, along with blankets on an old couch that they’d made out on several times.. A few of her favorite drinks and snacks placed there as well. She noticed them as he gently put her down.

She once again turned to look at him, but his mask was already off.

"I'm sorry I missed your birthday, Princess."

"Oh, Peter," She frowned and went to cup his face. "Who did this to you?"

"It doesn't matter," He said softly, leaning into her hands.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I really wanted to... But I never knew when or how to do it. And tonight, I wanted to be there." His lips trembled.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to be there. But some guy had this really wonderful idea to rob a bank on your day, which caused a lockdown and eventually it led to a car pileup—"

She placed a kiss on his lips, shutting him up while holding onto the back of his neck in order to keep him close.

"I saw the news, Pete." She said once they parted and hugged him tightly, body shaking as she did so.

"Are you crying?" He asked through furrowed brows. "I'm so sorry I upset you, I—"

"I'm not upset with you. You don't have to apologize."

"You're not?"

"I mean, I was upset when I thought you were preparing some 'it's not you, it's me' speech on my birthday. And the thought of that hurts a lot more than knowing you kept this from me."

"I shouldn't have ever made you feel like we were gonna breakup, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to give you that impression. You have every right to be upset at me for it." He hung his head low in shame.

"Thank you for owning up to it, but it's okay now, love. I'm okay now that you're here," She reassured him. "And I'm really glad you trusted me enough to share this with me."

"Of course I trust you. I had it all planned out.. We were supposed to go to dinner first and then come here. I was gonna explain everything up here, but things just got all messy, as always."

"I just said it's okay," She giggled, tracing the spider on his chest. "Besides, I can't complain when you look this good in your suit."

She smiled at his forming blush and messed up hair, then leaned in to kiss him once again.

"I love you," He whispered against her lips.

"I love you too, Spider-Man."

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #spiderman #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic

[cosmal]

✿ — peter parker & pretending you’re seriously injured but it’s just a small paper cut that needs patching up with plasters all a ploy for him to stay longer or to get his attention if he’s been working or studying for too long. he finds out you’re okay so he patches you up with a spiderman themed plaster and lots of kisses. possible tickle fight ensues? thank you for considering <3

doctor pete

summary — you freak peter out to get his attention.

content — peter parker x fem!reader, mentions of injury

You haven't seen Peter in two whole hours. He's studying for a really, super duper, ridiculously important upcoming test - his words not yours - and you want to give him his space.

The problem is, you're a really impatient person. You have an idea, you might end up regretting it, but you miss his face.

"Peter!" you call from the kitchen. You sound horribly worried. Scared almost. "Fuck - Pete, baby!"

You hear his bedroom door slam open and then the thump thump thump of his socked feet running up the hall. He slides into the kitchen and almost falls into the fridge. He's still got his headphones on, the cord dangles at his knees.

"You okay?" he asks, voice all pitched up and frantic, "What happened?"

"I cut myself," you tell him with the tiniest pout on your lips. Dramatic.

You hold your hand out in front of you. There, when Peter squints his superhuman eyes, there's basically a papercut along the pad of your pointer.

Peter lets his shoulders fall, letting out the gasping breath he's just taken. He squeezes his eyes shut and bends in half. "Jesus Christ, baby," he pants.

"What?"

"I thought you'd cut a finger off," he tells you, walking towards you where you're leaning up against the sink. "My senses went crazy. I think my blood went cold."

"Oh, baby," you say sympathetically, reaching your hands up to hold his face, careful where you put your finger. He closes his eyes and leans into your hold. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd freak that much."

"Baby, you sounded horrible," he admits. You can feel his heartbeat where the heel of your hand rests over his neck. It's racing - skipping a few beats. "I don't ever want to hear you like that ever again."

"I'm sorry," you say again. You might be saying it all night.

"It's okay," he says and then kisses your palm. "Let me see, yeah?"

"See what?"

"The cut, lovely," he laughs.

"Oh," you blink, "right."

You let him hold your hand between your bodies, flipping your palm in his shaking hands to inspect the damage. "Oh, no, baby," he says, all faux worried. "That's horrible."

"Pete." He's teasing. You think you deserve it.

"Should I call 911?" he says, frowning, biting his lip to hold back a smile. He'll crack eventually, you know it.

"You reckon?"

"Amputation at best," he snorts. "Don't worry, Doctor Pete can fix you up."

"Thank god," you sigh, then, under your breath, you grumble a, "Doctor Pete." because he's unbelievable.

He moves across the kitchen to grab the first aid box in the cupboard above the fridge and pulls out a box of bandaids. He takes the wrapping off and walks back over, caging you in with his hips against the lip of the bench.

"Here," he says quietly. "This'll fix ya'."

He wraps the bandaid around your finger. It's blue, his vigilante face is plastered all over it. You snort. "My favourite ones."

"A doctor knows what's best," he tells you, smoothing plastic around your finger. He gives it a kiss to make sure.

"I look like such a nerd," you whine to peeve him off.

It works. He pretends to be offended but it doesn't really work. He's cracking the biggest smile because he can never help it around you. "The cutest nerd there is," he says.

His hands are suddenly crawling up your sides. He's not as soft as he usually is. His fingers are pinching, crueller than he is when he wants to hold you to his body. He starts to prod further and it's ticklish.

"Pete," you warn. Your body curves off the sink and he pushes his thumbs into your stomach now you're closer.

"What?" he asks. Smarmy.

He's not secretive about it now. He's tickling you. You try to bend in half, gasping through girlish laughter. He's stronger than you, obviously, and uses his elbows to keep you upright so he has better access to your sides and your back behind your armpits, right in between your ribs where he knows you hate it.

"Stop!" you gasp, "Pete, I'm sorry. Pl- please!"

"That's what you get." He's laughing too. It's horrible how you love the sound of it despite it being at your own expense.

"For what?"

"For scaring me," he tells you. He doubles down when it sounds like you can't breathe.

He lets his hands settle at your hips and you collapse against him, panting into his shirt. "You're horrible."

"It's your fault, babe," he laughs, holding you closer now he knows you can breathe properly.

It is your fault. You'd do it ten times over if it means he'll treat you like this, you think.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker blurb #peter parker x y/n #peter parker headcanon #peter parker drabble #peter parker imagine #peter parker headcanons #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter parker drabble

[angelfic]

for the writing game: tasm!Peter Parker, fake dating, and "don't you trust me?" :)

thank you for the request, anon! it’s been ages since i wrote for my fave spidey and i’m a sucker for the fake dating trope sooo here u are <3

tasm!peter parker x reader + fake dating + “don’t you trust me?”

➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game

“Peter,” you hiss, tugging on the back of his shirt to grab his attention when he doesn’t hear you over the blaring music coming from the party downstairs. He turns around, wide eyed and slightly dishevelled. You spot a flash of red and blue in his hand as he shoves his mask into the pocket of his jeans and you gasp. “You said no Spider-Man duties tonight!”

“I know, I know!” Peter winces, not bothering to tell you to keep your voice down since the only other people on the top floor are preoccupied, either far away and making out, or locked up in the bedrooms. He knows you’ve been on his ass to relax and enjoy himself, especially after Aunt May found out about his vigilante activities and forced the two of you to go to one of your classmate’s parties. You take May’s orders very seriously. “I’ve only been out twice tonight, but I swear for the rest of the night I’m staying in.”

“Twice already?” You gape at him, shoulders slumping in disappointment since you should have been paying more attention. Your best friend can be slippery when he wants to be though. “Okay, forget it, we can have fun later. I need your help.”

“What is it?” he asks, standing up straighter and already reaching for the mask.

You roll your eyes and bat his hand away from his pocket. “I don’t need Spidey, I need you. Connor Davies from Biology won’t leave me alone.”

Peter relaxes slightly at the much lower-level threat, but frowns when he registers your words. “Tell him you have a boyfriend or something.”

“I tried,” you deadpan, thinking back on his persistence with irritation. “I said I was here with you, thinking that was vague enough, but that he’d get the hint. When that didn’t work, I said we were together and he still didn’t believe me. I lost him now, but–”

“Quick, look at me,” Peter says quietly, one hand going to your waist as the other cups your face. His eyes dart to something behind you before he meets your gaze again, determined. “I don’t quite think he got the hint. He’s coming over.”

“What?” you whisper, a little alarmed at how close you two are all of a sudden. “What are we going to do?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Peter asks, the corners of his mouth tilting up slightly as he raises a brow in questioning. You’re about to bring up the time when he took you for a swing around the city and accidentally let you fall three stories before catching you because a bird flew too close to his face. Then you remember the pressing matter at hand and nod that yes, you do trust Peter. “Good.”

Peter closes the distance and kisses you with a certainty that you’d never expect from him. Your lips move together like you’ve done this a million times before and you hadn’t realised how badly you wanted this until now. You barely register the footsteps going back downstairs when you grip the front of Peter’s flannel to pull him closer and he takes this as a signal to kiss you firmly, his hand gripping your waist a little tighter.

You aren’t sure if you ever plan on pulling away until the door that Peter was previously leaning against swings open, causing him to stumble as a very drunk and very giggly couple comes staggering out. You take a quick step back from Peter to let the couple through, finding it hard to make eye contact with him once they’re gone.

“You, uh, think he got the hint?” you ask, laughing nervously. Peter looks like he’s holding back a grin when he gently takes a hold of your hand to bring you closer again.

“I think he got the hint about 3 minutes ago,” Peter points out, amused. “Biology might be super awkward though.”

“Well, at least I know what to do next time,” you shrug, half of you joking. The other half wants there to be a next time.

Peter gasps in mock-offence. “Wow, is that all I am to you? Not even going to take me out to dinner first?”

“How about an ice cream date?” you ask boldly. You and Peter have gone out on late-night ice cream runs ever since he got his licence, but you’d never stuck the word date on the end.

Peter smiles openly this time, already dragging you towards the stairs and you find yourself mirroring his grin. “Ice cream date it is. You know Aunt May is gonna make you recall the entire night to her later, right?”

“Yeah, well, what’s new?” you snort, well aware of May’s intentions towards the two of you. “You better get the camera out.”

#peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker scenarios #tasm peter x reader #2k writing game #the amazing spiderman x reader #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader #requests #asks #anon

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

Matt and Peter trying to see who can fuck you better but they both fuck you so good that you become a babbling mess

i meshed two requests together, this one as well as matt and peter fucking villain! reader :)) i had a lotta fun with this one, enjoy!

VIGILANTE SHIT- P.B PARKER & MATT MURDOCK

Pairing: Peter! Matt! x Vigilante Black Cat! Reader (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings: SMUT, praise and degradation kink, mocking/ babying, petnames, teasing, swearing, mentions of blood/ violence (matt also bandages readers wound), bondage, dry humping, masturbation, breeding kink, man handling, overstim, fluff tho<33

"and i don't dress for villains, or for innocents.. i'm on my vigilante shit again. i don't start shit but i can tell you how it ends..."- vigilante shit, taylor swift

You had married the night.

It was your escape, your desires, your dreams. The stars were rings upon your fingers, the moon a shining spotlight through the clouds as you’d stalk your prey during the hunting hours.

You came alive in the darkness.

You felt like a burst of light, energy and power bursting through your veins. It was when you could take charge. When you could sneak up on people, make them fall to their knees and beg for salvation.

It was when you could get revenge on the people who deserved it most.

You had trained yourself to be a soldier. To have your guard up, to be alert and stealthy. The Black Cat, is what they had called you. You were quiet and flexible, getting in places the average person couldn't.

It was ideal for stealing.

“Stealing” things that didn't belong to the people who had stolen them in the first place. They didn't belong to the white, rich old men the prowled the upper parts of New York.

They didn't belong to the thugs and gangs in Hell's Kitchen either.

They belonged to you.

It was a waiting game, finding the right time to swoop in from your spot on the rooftops to scurry down and collect the goods. But it was one you were willing to play. You had played many games since your time on the streets in the twilight hours, like cat and mouse.

Matt Murdock and Peter Parker were crawling on you like spiders, and you had run into them more times than you could count. As fast as they appeared, you had fled.

They had no idea who you were, but you had made headlines. The thief in the night. The media didn't know anything. They liked to spin and twist lies for their own benefit, so that things would sell and people would become frightened.

What they didn't know- is that you only stole from people who deserved it.

Your own version of justice.

And right now, the men you were watching from the alleyway deserved it. You had been watching the Pirus gang now for days, hiding behind old warehouse containers and perching yourself upon balconies and ledges to spy upon them and their dirty deeds that made your own hands feel greasy with grime.

They had something that belonged to you. You had noted the 18k gold ring getting pocketed between them, a ring that had been gifted to your mother before she had passed.

You didn't care about the imaginary price tag that was attached to it, like these crooks did. You didn’t care you could sell it and easily make a hundred thousand dollars, waving goodbye to student debt and mortgage rates. You just cared that it was in a safe, and valuable place.

Tucked away in the little vintage jewelry box she had gifted you before she took her final breaths on that old, creaking bed.

A growl ripped through your throat as you saw them flip it up like a coin, hearing their mutters about ‘thank god the bitch is dead’. They were just a leap away. With a push, you could jump down upon the pavement, ripping them to shreds with your claws.

You had been patient enough, a clock ticking in your head with each second that had passed where the ring wasn't in your possession.

The ring was an easy target, and you shifted your weight stealthy to propel your body forward.

It was all coming together. It was easy.

Almost too easy.

As you guided yourself, eye on the prize- a sharp jerk yanked you back. The breath was stolen from your lungs, your scream muffled as a hand was placed across your mouth.

“Shhhh. Not a word.” the low voice murmured in your ear, his warm breath making the hairs on your neck rise with anxiety as you struggled against his chokehold grip he held on you against his large, solid body.

You were brought back in through the large warehouse window you had so stupidly turned your back on, too focused on the activities below to realize what was going on behind you.

Who was behind you, for that matter. You twisted your foot to step on his own, but he avoided it, clearly trained in combat as he fought back against your contained fight.

“Don’t make this harder for yourself sweetheart.” he growled, twisting you around to smash your body against the cold brick, the wind knocked out of you, too stunned to cry for help as he tossed you like a rag doll.

A black bandanna covered his eyes, toned body was hidden under the same black fabric, blood smeared across his cracked knuckles. You searched him for some recognition of who he was, but you were too dazed from the sudden assault, heartbeat racing too loud in your ears from adrenaline to think clearly enough.

“She's got fight in her man.” the mystery man smirked, as if you were a wild animal in a cage, desperate to get free.

Shivers broke out across your skin from under the leather as shocks went through your whole body, white, sticky webs clinging you to the wall like a mouse in a trap.

Then it clicked. Oh. Fuck.

“Oh you fuckers.”

A second body hung from the ceiling, emerging from the darkness into the dingy warehouse lighting, attached to a web as he waved at you from upside down.

“Well hello there!” he said cheerfully as if the three of you were all buddy-buddy and this was an everyday event.

“Was that a goddamn Star Wars reference?” you huffed, wanting to strangle the both of them.

“Yes. Maybe. Maybe yes.” He dropped from the ceiling, bouncing on his heels as he looked at you with interest through his mask, head tilted with curiosity.

“You need to slow your heartbeat. Calm down.” the masked man murmured lowly, listening to the increasing speed of its thumps as he neared you. It was then your vision cleared, and you could get a good look at them in the dimmed lighting.

Matt and Peter. 

“I would be calm, if I wasn't webbed to a fucking wall right now.” you sang sweetly, making him smirk.

“It's for your own good.”

“Well technically, it’s for our own good because if she weren't bound she’d be clawing our faces off right now.” Peter noted, his voice fading in the distance as he found some random old chairs that were scattered in the corner.

“Peter’s right ya know.” you played along,  the dragging of the chair's feet against the stone floor coming to an abrupt halt.

“You know my name?”

“Well duh. I’m not stupid, no matter how much you and Mr. Matthew over here may think I am.” You couldn't keep the sly smirk off your face, knowing you had them right where you wanted them.

You couldn't defeat them, and you knew the gang had most likely scrambled by now, along with your ring- but you could keep them talking.

“It's nice for us to finally be acquainted again.” Matt sighed, watching as Peter brought up the chair, plopping himself in one directly in front of you. As if you were a circus act, or the hottest new movie in the box office.

You huffed, not meeting his eyes as Peter curled his feet under him, sitting crisscross in the old, rusting chair. “What is this a therapy session?”

“Does it need to be? Tell me, my darling- how is your relationship with your father?” Peter asked mockingly, making you hiss out in response.

“Alright, alright enough. We just want to talk to you…”

“I’m not giving you my name.” you replied sharply, slightly struggling against the webs, having no luck of them weakening.

“How is that remotely fair?” Peter scoffed.

“Peter- enough. Fine, be that way. As I said, we just want to talk.” Matt exclaimed, cracking his knuckles as his head tilted to listen, surveying the nearby area with his ears.

“I think they left.” you murmured, and he nodded in response, mouth drawn into a hard line. “They left cause you scared them off with all your thrashing. Settle down woman, the webs won't break that easily.”  Peter hinted, watching in amusement as you finally gave up, putting your head down in defeat.

“I hate you.” you murmured softly, quiet as a pin drop as you stared down at the cold concrete.

“Yeah, yeah tell us something we don't know.” Matt sighed, your eyes flickering back up to look at Peter, his legs still crossed in an almost childish manner as he leaned his head in his hands- appearing bored.

“Let's get this over and done with. What do you want to talk about?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

They were going to threaten you- obviously, or they'd try and talk you over with their magical words of wisdom, about how being ‘good’ was better than whatever the fuck you were doing. You didn’t care for it.

But you knew they wouldn't let you go until they said what they had to say.

You fought the urge to shiver, a cold breeze filtering through the broken windows, seething to chill your bones. Your nipples hardened, and you swore Matt’s head tilted slightly, a smirk dotting his face.

“You. Helping us.” Peter retorted, and before you could stop it, you laughed.

You laughed and laughed and laughed because what the fuck? That was the last thing you had expected them to say, his words seeming like an inside joke you weren’t involved with.

The cold had now disappeared, replaced with a warmth and bubbliness that pooled in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” was all you could gasp out, your sides hurting from the continuous laughter that poured out of you. You laughed partly because yes- it was funny, but also because you were confused and anxious. Not that they needed to know that of course.

“We need your help taking on Kingpin.”

There it was.

The laughter stopped. That name had left you scarred, your insides shriveling up at the whispers of memories that trickled through your brain.

“I don’t get involved with him.” you stated, voice hardened like cracked sugar. The air was sucked out of the room, and you saw fear and darkness slither across the brick.

“I know you don’t. That's why we’re now asking you to get involved with him, with us. We need another hand to play in his card game.”

“I don’t. Get. Involved.” you hissed, drawing out each symbol as if they were illiterate. Which they must have been. They must have been borderline stupid to think you would help them, with Kingpin nonetheless.

He was way out of your territory, and there were even lines you didn't cross once they were drawn.

“We’ll help you get your mother's things back.” Peter said cooly from his side of the room. Your head whipped towards him, eyes wide.

Maybe you didn't have the upper hand afterall.

“I don’t need your help.” Peter snorted, hand extending to the broken window, the one you had been perched out of a few minutes prior.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” he said sarcastically. “I had it under control, until you two showed up and ruined it.” you snarled.

“We saved you. They had multiple firearms on them, and you were severely outnumbered. The second you dropped, you would have been shot on the spot, too many bullets to stand a chance.” Matt replied to your outburst coolly. “But you wouldn't have known that, would you? They were tucked away, in their boots and under their jackets. Because if you did know, you would have been openly committing suicide, and that seems unlike you since theres jobs that still need to be done.”

You were silent. They had you in their webs. Quite literally, at that.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“You always have a choice.” Matt replied softly, his demeanor seeming to change. Almost as if... as if he felt bad for you. As if he could see right through you, could feel the pain and sorrow in your heart that ripped and clawed at you daily, could feel the loneliness and anguish that haunted you.

Maybe he didn't have many choices in his lifetime.

His words were nearly comforting, but you knew they were one-sided. You did have a choice, but if you didn’t accept their offer- things wouldn't turn out good. Not that they would working with them anyways.

But what ‘choice’ did you really have?

“Fine. When do we start?” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It’s fucking cold.” you groaned, the air around you seeming brisker with each passing second. New York never seemed to be warm, the skin-tight suit plastered to you not helping the cause.

It was lightweight and stretchy, its fabric perfect for fighting and climbing- but it provided next to no warmth.

The sirens shrieked as they passed by under you, the city lights illuminating the two men next to you as you sat perched on the roof.

It had been a few weeks since the webbing incident, and you now waited- bored out of your mind for an instruction. It was unlike you to listen and not lead, but you wanted to see how the dice would roll.

You crouched low, the concrete block rough and bitter to the touch as you knelt at Peter’s level.

“It’s not cold. You’re just being a pussy.” Peter drawled, the wind whipping through his messy locks as he looked down, taking in the bustling traffic below.

The cars were all fancy here, all Porches and Bentleys on this side of town. It made you feel out of sorts, and uncomfortable in your skin.

“Did you just call me a pussy?”

“He meant it romantically.” Matt replied, your eyes meeting his sharp jawline as he sourced out the area from the other side of you.

“I did not.” he scoffed, a blush burning on his cheeks as he turned away, suddenly very interested with the stone ledge.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. When are we moving in?” you asked impatiently, rocking on the balls of your feet anxiously. It felt like you had been sitting up here forever, despite meeting them back near Hell's Kitchen over half an hour ago.

So in reality, you had really only been sitting here for a good twenty minutes. Yet, it dragged on.

Where was the action? The fighting? You were sick of waiting.

“Don’t even think of moving in without my signal.” Matt stated, sensing your anticipation as you sighed.

“What are we even waiting for?!”

“For them to take their fighting somewhere else.” Peter snorted, obviously as anxious to get going as you were, but it appeared he was more collected. He had been working with Matt a lot longer than you had, and you hoped to keep it that way.

You watched as Matt listened closely, obviously aware of the conversation that was appearing behind the glass in front of you. The two men were tall and build, almost double the size of you. Anger was written across their faces, buried in the creases of their foreheads as they yelled, hands frantically moving. Their black suits were wrinkled, blood dotting one's forehead as if a fight had occurred before this one.

You tilted your head, curious.

Were they not on the same side? Were they not both fighting for Fisk, defending him?

“They seem pretty angry for people who appear to be on the same side.” you hinted, trying to think of reasons they could possibly be so mad.

“You’d be surprised how competitive his men can get, when he's angry the way has been lately.” Peter stated, looking to Matt for instruction as a gun was cocked, hands going up in surrender.

“Should we intervene?”

Matt just shook his head.

“Let it play out.” was all he said. You despised how calm and collected he was about this. Part of you wanted him to be rash, so you could save him and yell at him for how stupid he was. But that wasn't his style, and you knew it never had been. He and Peter waited in the shadows, counting down the minutes until it was right to strike.

Suddenly another man appeared from the hallway, breaking up the fight. They left the room, and you felt your body instinctively moving forward, ready to leap, though you couldn’t reach.

“The documents Peter and I need are in the office across from that one, in a safe behind the painting behind the desks. All the offices look the same, it's an industrial office. You’re in charge of making sure no one comes up on this floor.”

“So what I’m on watch duty? You brought me along so I could protect you guys while you play capture the flag?” you scoffed. Seeing as to how they quite literally webbed you to a wall, asking for your help- you figured it’d be for something much cooler than this.

“For now.” was all he said, a tone in his voice indicating something else was on the table for a later date. “I don’t really have a choice in this.”

“You always have a choice.” he repeated, words echoing those at the warehouse.

“I’m going to fucking punch you.”

A laugh escaped Peter and he was quick to cover it with a slap to the mouth as he watched the stand down you had with Matt. Nothing was coming out of this, and you weren't expecting it to. But it was still fun to try and bother him anyways.

Nothing seemed to get under his skin, which irked you even more. He was the water to your fire, the voice of reasoning. Fuck his reasoning.

“Punch me and I’m telling you right now things will not end in your favor.” Matt snarled, hand grabbing your wrist as you raised it.

“I’ll take my chances.” you hissed back, hair raising on your arms like a cat’s from under your suit.

“Go.” he commanded sternly. “What?”

“Go. The floor is clear, for now. Peter’s taking you over.”

“Wha-” Before you could beg to differ, confused about what the man meant, you felt an arm wrap around your middle. Matt's grip released from your wrist, yet you could still feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the area where his fingers brushed you starting to tingle.

The wind rushed in your ears as Peter grabbed you, a web shooting from his wrist as he swung you off your feet. It took everything in you not to scream, the movement so quick and sudden you felt your lungs come out through your ribcage. You were soaring through the air, Peter's grip tightening on you as you watched the world blaze by in a blend of colours from under you, coming to a standstill as he stuck to the side of Fisks building.

You looked over to where you once were, finding it empty. Matt had already disappeared, not a whisper or a trace that he had ever been there remaining.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” you whispered, looking down and regretting it immensely.

“I thought you liked high places? Don’t all cats?”

“Not this high.” you whimpered, willing for him to pry open the window quicker than he was currently. Although you gave him credit, he was doing it one-handed after all.

“Just don’t look down. That's what I did before I got used to it.” he shrugged, and you clung to him tighter, breathing in the cologne he wore through his suit. It was nice, you realized, sort of hating yourself for liking it as much as you did.

All of a sudden the two of you were much too close, the air becoming hot and saccharine despite being almost twenty stories high, the wind whipping through your hair wildly.

He let out a small grunt as you heard the window click open, the glass freeing enough space for you to wedge your body through.

“This is the storage room, down the hall from the office we’ll be at. Stay close.” he instructed, and you scrambled to grip onto the window ledge. “And don't let yarn be a distraction.” he added teasingly, darting away before you could let out a sly remark in return.

“Asshole” you muttered to yourself, slowly and quietly shutting the window behind you. You had landed upon a shelf, filled with cleaning supplies. The smell of chemicals burned, your nose twitching with disgust as you took in your surroundings.

It was quiet in here, minus the gentle hum of the air vents. Dark as the night outside, you were stealthy and careful not to knock anything over as you leaped to the floor, the hard tile cold under your hands.

Mops, buckets, vacuums and brooms all were dotted against the walls, cleaning chemicals so advanced you didn't even know if you could pronounce them. Sometimes you forgot how much money this man really had. It seemed unimaginable.

Kingpin could probably buy the entire city if he wanted, in all honesty. You were rather confused why he hadn't yet, since that always seemed to be his endgame. Changing the city. Changing the way people lived, changing the way the economy ran to better suit his needs.

All this change that didn’t need to happen. He could change his shitty attitude, or even the paint colour in here. You thought with a sigh, dusting your hands off as you rose to your full height, on high alert as your hand reached for the door handle.

It was quiet outside. Too quiet.

You held your breath, feeling your lungs tighten as you slid beside the door. Your back was to the wall, heartbeat thumping in your chest as you heard a voice call from the end of the hallway, turning the corner.

Waiting wasn't something you were very good at, but you knew you had to time this right. The whole mission- and your life, depended on it. Just as his foot hit the hardwood in front of your hidden alcove, you swung the door open, arm reaching around his throat.

A meer gasp escaped him as you pounced on him, dragging him into the cleaning closet with you. His arm went back to hit you with his gun, but you had wrapped around him like a koala bear- his arms unable to you. His gun clattered to the ground as you kicked it, squeezing your arm around his airways even tighter as he fell back against a shelf.

You winced as the pain shot up your arm as he slammed you back against the wooden ledges, cleaning supplies rattling in the struggle.

“Can you pass out quieter?!” you hissed, feeling his grip lack as he slipped into unconsciousness. You jumped off of him as he thudded down to the ground, limbs spread out as his breathing steadied.

You sighed, dusting off your suit again with the quick bush of your hands. He had got dirt on you- the bastard. Grabbing underneath his armpits, you attempted to trudge the large, beefy man to sit against the shelf.

If he was going to be unconscious, he might as well ruin his posture in the process. It seemed like a fair trade, seeming as he almost pointed a gun at you and smacked your shoulders hard enough to see little black spots dot across your vision.

He would be out cold for a while, hopefully, long enough for your little boy scout duo to get their shit and scramble. You watched as he slouched over, proud of your handiwork. You were lucky he wasn't as large as the other guards you had seen, or else you weren't so sure your strategy would work.

Remembering you had a job to do, you slipped back over to the closed door, poking your head out slightly as you heard the ever so slight creak of a window close from the office down the hall.

Good. They got in.

You were scared to breathe, scared the rush of air whooshing through your trachea would set off some sort of alarm or trigger. It was like walking on pins and needles. The air seemed tighter here, stuffy as it weighed down on you. It was almost an unfamiliar presence was lurking nearby, someone you had seen in a nightmare once before, but had convinced yourself they weren't real.

Shivering, you tried your best to ignore it, slipping off behind the corner- somewhere you knew the cameras wouldn't be able to see you. Peter had already mapped out the floor plan earlier- his long, elegant fingers gliding over the page, his words tuning out slightly as you felt warmth spread through you the longer you watched his fingers point and tap.

You thought of them now as you watched the empty hallways, knowing they were probably gliding across the ridges of the mahogany desk as he waited for Matthew to finish his task.

They brushed against you now as you felt the hairs on the back of your neck raise, a ghost slipping through you.

Someone was watching you. Someone was here with you, and it wasn't Peter.

Before you could turn fully, hands reached for you, tugging you under an invisible wave. You were dragged under the surface, the shock and adrenaline causing you to gasp for air as they yanked you back against the wall.

Men came from all directions, swarming you. You kicked and clawed, getting in a good few punches as you struggled.

You were caught. Again.

But this time, they wouldn't be willing to talk- like Matt and Peter were. You didn’t know what they do, which was the scary part.

“MATT-” You managed to call out, quickly silenced as a butt of a gun was hit to your forehead, the force so strong your neck snapped back, head rolling limp as the sound of the crack reverberated through your ears.

The world turned dark, and you prayed deep down he had some idea what was happening to you at the time being.

He was a catholic. He’d hear.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The world was fuzzy.

Everyone said that, that when their eyes opened it was difficult to see for a bit, shapes and colours blending together. But it was bad. Worse than they put it in the books, when they didnt know how else to change the scene, so they just made the character unconscious or whatever.

You feared you were trapped in a watercolour painting as your eyes opened, hand reaching up to grab the place where your head was throbbing like a jackhammer.

You ached for it to stop, moaning out in pain as the word started to reform itself.

“Shh, shh relax.” a familiar voice called, though he sounded slightly out of tune and distant. Matthew came into view as you turned your head, his hand reaching out to press you back into the pillows.

“What happened?” you croaked out, trying to hold back the tears as you felt dried blood crust on your forehead. There was the sound of water trickling as he twisted out a clean rag, the bowl on the bedside table scattered with medical supplies.

You managed to move slightly, allowing him to sit next to you on the bed, a slight frown on his face as he sighed.

“Peter ran out to back you up, but we were outnumbered. He grabbed you and we took off. There were too many of them swarming us for it to be a decent fight, especially because you were knocked out.”

The warm cloth was pressed against your gash, and you flinched from the sudden contact as he tended to you.

Who would have thought? Not you.

“I thought the Matthew Murdock never backed down from a fight?” you asked curiously, knowing it would twinge a nerve or two. But it didn’t. He just shrugged, setting the cloth back down next to the others.

“I do when someone who is on my side is hurt.” he stated, voice seeming to be filled with an emotion you couldn't quite decide on. It was a factual statement, and you were honestly shocked he wasn't more upset with you.

You were silent as he stood, bed creaking slightly from the removal of his extra weight, his arms hanging limp at his sides. It was then you could get a good look at him, though the lighting was dim in his apartment.

His knuckles were slightly smeared with dried blood, some slashes dotted across his forearms that seemed fresh.

But he was unbothered.

He had put on the mask you had put on so many times before, becoming a soldier. Becoming guarded.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” he noted, sensing your gaze on the marks that dotted across his exposed skin. All you could do was clear your throat as you peeled your eyes from him, desperate to think of anything else but running your fingers across his skin.

You focused on the red numbers from the analog that stared at you, seeing it was an odd hour in the early morning. The heavy rain pattered against the windows, the comforting sound reminding you of nights at your mother's, listening to the rain hit the tin.

Her soft perfume would wrap you in an embrace as she’d lie with you, book in hand as you’d drift off to sleep. The sound always brought you back to a place of serenity, even in the toughest of times. You urged to find yourself back to the memories of her, but were interrupted by the sound of the door slamming, and the squealing of wet boots.

“He returns triumphant.” Peter called from the entrance, a plastic bag dropping to the ground with the water that dripped from his coat as he shrugged it off.

You groaned, forcing yourself to swing your legs over the bed, the hardwood cold against your feet. Pushing up, you wobbled slightly as you rose to your full height- feeling like a fawn on its new legs.

“Did Claire cause a fuss?” Matt asked, flicking on a light from around the corner. You heard water run from a faucet as Peter shook out his dripping hair, running his fingers through it before carrying the bag over to him.

“No, no she seemed fine with it. Kinda rushy but-” His attention slid over to you, concern across his features.

“Hey, hey you're supposed to be in bed.”

“I don't like you.” you murmured, trying to shoo him away as he walked towards you.

“I don't care. You’re supposed to be resting.” he sighed, rolling his eyes as you protested. Peter's hands were warm, despite being outside in the crisp, chilled New York air as they picked you up gently.

He treated you as if you were a piece of fine china when he walked, moving ever so slowly to avoid jutting you around more than necessary. It was odd, considering you both had given each other the side eye more times than you could count.

You weren't used to the attention. You weren't sure if you liked it or not, it was too unfamiliar and new. But you accepted it, tucking your head to your chin as you clutched his sweater tighter, the clenching of your fists bringing you relief.

He carried you to the bathroom, the brighter lighting making you squint as he entered. Matt stood at the vanity, the bag of goods Peter had picked up scattered out on the counter. You gulped at the sight of the medical tools, the needle and thread making your skin crawl.

“I think I’m fine.” you said, anxiously clearing your throat as Peter set you down beside the sink. Matt resumed his doings, gathering the thread as if this were an everyday occurrence for him.

It very well could be, you realized.

“Seriously, I’m okay-”

“Hold her still.” Matt insisted to Peter as you made a move to slide off the counter. Panic swarmed you like flies, maggots chewing away at your lungs as you found it harder and harder to breathe.

It wasn't because of the boys, far from that. They had taken quite good care of you, despite the circumstances. It was the needle, the damn needle that made your stomach turn in on itself.

The idea of something sewing through layers of your skin did not sit right with you. You wanted to turn to the invisible camera,  break the fourth wall during this shit.

“Can you believe this shit? I can help take down Fisk, but I’m scared of a small needle? (and commitment sometimes)”  

“Breathe.” Matt commanded sternly as his hand gripped your thigh, sensing your bubbling fear. You shook your head frantically, your stomach starting to clench.

A gentle touch to your other thigh startled you, and you looked over in alarm as Peter's fingers brushed your skin, his eyes seeming to bleed raw with empathy. He seemed genuinely concerned for you, and you welcomed his touches with open arms as you started to shake and buzz with nerves.

“Kitty, it’s okay. I promise you, he knows what he’s doing.”

”I used to stitch up my dad after his fights when I was a kid. I’ve been doing it my whole life.” Matt replied softly. “It’s not that it’s just… it grosses me out. The needle- I mean.”

Matt tilted his head slightly, a small little smile on his face. The one you had seen so much when you were around him in the short period of time, the one he did when he was teasing you.

You wanted to rub it off his face, smear it like chocolate into his skin with the palm of your hand.

“You’re a brave lil thing. You’ll be okay.” You closed your eyes, doing anything to dissociate, anything to convince your mind you were in a better place. Knuckles clenched around the counters edge, nails scratching the sharp surface as you keened.

“I’ll be gentle.” he murmured in your ear, close enough so that you could breathe in his scent, could feel the heat that pulsed off him in a sinusoidal wave. 

He was far, yet so close in your mind, sight like tunnel vision as you tried not to be consumed by him. But it was impossible. The soft gentle squeeze on your thigh took away from Matt's actions, and you exhaled softly, steadily.

In for four. Hold for four. Out for four. In for four. Hold for-

“Which one of them did this to you?” Peter asked you benevolently, finger strumming a steady rhythm. You were scared for him to stop.

Suddenly, you didn't want to be left alone anymore. It was strange how the human body could react like this, how it could change and fluctuate depending on each situation was thrown at it. It wasn't equipped to handle them alone. It was a machine, but was unusable, nor was it well-oiled if someone wasn't there to support it.

In some cases, that was the last person you'd ever expect in your life to keep its maintenance.

“I’m not sure. He had a scar, right across his cheek. That’s all I could see of him, before the others came.”

Silence. Then another beat.

“We’ll kill them all.” was all he said, eyes slipping up to admire Matt's handiwork. Matt nodded, humming to himself softly as he patched you up with ease. Your eyes threatened to bulge out of their head at their comments, shocked that they could talk about this so… so lightly.

And for you? They would kill for you, someone they could barely stand to work with. It rubbed you the wrong way.

There was more to this than you realized.

“I thought the two of you didnt kill?” you asked hesitantly, gritting your teeth so hard they hurt as you felt Matt tug on the final stitch.

The two of them just shrugged. You didn't like how much they shrugged.

“We don't really.”

Then this was personal. This was about Fisk. You needed- no ached for more answers for the more questions that brewed in your mind,

Why Fisk? Why bring you into this? They most likely weren't planning on killing them because of you. You seemed too insignificant. There was a larger cause behind this, if it was driving them to killing instincts.

“So why?” You couldn't help but speak your current interest, too many questions churning deep inside the labyrinths of your mind.

“Done.” Matt sighed, ignoring your questions. A chill spread through your thigh as you felt Peter's hand slip from the surface of your skin, slightly scarred but smoothen after healing.

It felt like a shock, his hand retracting as if he was zapped from you. As if the trance was broken, and things were back to normal. Where you hated him, and he hated you, and neither of you could look at each other for more than two minutes without making faces like children.

His footsteps were silent, cat-like as he removed himself from the tension sharp enough you could cut it with a knife- as he should.

You’d go, or he would.

You slipped from the counter, watching as Matt started to put his supplies in random drawers, although they weren't random to him. He opened each one swiftly, knowing exactly where to put each item where.

You stood still, hoping he’d provide you with the answer you desired. You didn't want to leave this apartment without one.

But he ignored you, acting as if you weren't there. A childlike tendency was brewing inside you, and you fought the urge to not stop your foot against the cool tile and huff.

“Matt?”

“Yeah?”

Why won't you tell me anything? Why am I being left in the dark? Why, just why can't you tell me anything? But you didn't want to push anything.

It was too soon. You had a feeling deep down, small but visible, that’d they'd tell you at some point. Patience was key. It was key in that cleaning closet, and it was key now. It had overtaken so many parts of your life- being patient. It was difficult to master, but it was essential for independence.

“Thank you. For stitching me up, and taking care of me. I appreciate it.” you nodded, not waiting for a reply before you stepped out of the bathroom, heart heavy in your hands.

It had weighed on you- how exhausted you were. It was a lot for your body to handle, in such a short period of time. It was hard for you to admit it to yourself, but you registered the fact you hadn't done something as extreme as this.

Of course you had taken down organizations before, small little street gangs and such that caused disturbances to your true targets.

But this? Fisk? It was a lot. And you had a very strong feeling it wouldn't be ending soon.

The sound of a glass shifting across the table made you jump, the scraping of the glass against the mahogany an uncomfortable pause in the everlasting silence.

Peter’s hand closed around the cup, adams apple bobbing as he chugged the water back.

“You gonna sleep in just that?” he asked, eyebrow raised with a sly grin on his face. You looked down, the oversized tank top hanging down just past your knees.

You presumed it was one of Matt’s considering how large it was on you- and the fact all you had on you at the time was your suit.

They had seen you mostly naked. Oh my god.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you looked back up at him, determined not to let the humiliation you felt win. Besides, Peter was more pretty to look at than the floor anyways.

“What else am I supposed to wear? You gonna be a pervert?” His hands flew up in mock defense, eyes widening.

“No, no I’m a gentleman. Just worried you’ll be cold, that's all.”

“These floors better be heated then.” you shrugged, snagging a warm fuzzy blanket off the arm of the couch.

“No ones sleeping on the floor. I’m on the couch, you're with Parker in the bed.” Matt chipped out, emerging from the bathroom at last. It was as if he was your conversation- not wanting to interrupt in case someone said something snarky and he’d drop the popcorn.

It took you a second to understand what he said fully, feeling incompetent.

“The bed?”

“The bed.” You shook your head hectically, the room blurring.

“I can sleep on the floor.”

“I know you can.” he replied, hand touching the lower area of your back as he passed you, making you shiver.

“But it’d be much better if you slept in the bed with your injuries. And besides, what guest sleeps on the floor?” he asked coyly, fluffing up the couch pillows.

Peter’s smile was mischievous as ever, a glimmer in his eye as he took you in.

“C'mon kitty. I don't bite. Promise.” You refused to trust a promise from Parker. But you felt your feet begin to automatically walk over to the comfort of the bed, with its warm sheets that smelt of lavender.

Today was bundles of nightmares all smashed into each other, toppling over one another to cram themselves into the twenty-four hours.

What would sleeping next to Parker do to add to that? 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ He added a lot.

Though it wasn't nightmares- the opposite in fact, it was more trouble to your own morals than you thought was possible.

You woke just as the sun rose, only managing to muster a few hours of shut eye despite the events before. Though your injuries were numbed from pain meds, it was spent tossing and turning between the sheets, trapped in the labyrinth of your own mind.

You were internally angry at yourself, mad at the attraction you felt towards the two men. It had only been a few weeks, and anytime their eyes lingered on you for too long you felt your panties start to dampen.

You wondered if they could tell.

The idea that they could excited you even more.

This wasn't supposed to happen, this little rendezvous of sexual tension between the three of you. You were the villain, they were the heroes. The villain wasn't supposed to clash with the hero in that way- it was off-script.

Yet you felt frozen in place as the birds chirped, Peter's warm body so close to yours you felt the hardening bulge in his pj pants- his large arm draped over your body.

Everyone was still asleep as far as you knew, but you wouldn't be surprised if Matt was awake. He was as quiet as a mouse, most likely listening to your quickening heartbeat as Peter's arm brushed against your hardened nipples, and you opened your legs slightly.

You swallowed, too afraid to make a sound.

“Mmm here kitty, kitty.” he whispered, voice husky and laced with sleep against your scalp.

Your eyes widened.

Was he dreaming about you?

Shifting, you brushed the curve of your ass against his bulge, making him groan. There was no harm in a little fun- was there? It’s not like you were in love with them or anything.

Who said you couldn't mess around for a bit- act on that sexual tension?

You heard his breath catch in his throat, eyes opening slowly to feel you pressed up against him.

“Were you dreaming of me?” you asked innocently, starting to slowly tease him, his fingers brushing circles against your hardened nipples.

“I like when you do that, ya know. They're so sensitive.”

“You minx. You're being a tease.” he growled softly, pinching your nipple harshly as you softly yelped.

“Don’t you like it when I’m a tease though bug boy? It just means you’ll have to train me real good.” you smiled, turning back to give him puppy dog eyes, resulting him practically dry-humping you.

You knew Matt could smell your sweet arousal, and you wondered how long he would hold off before yelling at the two of you to stop fucking around on his bed.

“I thought you hated me?”

“I do. But you feel so good.” you sighed, coy smile blooming as he shimmed lower, teeth sinking deep into your neck as he slid his hand down to part your legs even further.

“Such a fucking whore. Just some cock will shut you up- won’t it?”

You nodded frantically, the hiss that slipped from his lips sounding like music to your ears as he felt how wet you were through the flimsy fabric.

“Please. Please I’ll be so good I promise-” you begged, squirming with anticipation as he chuckled lowly.

“Oh so now she switches up hmm? Silly girl.” he cooed, slipping your thong to the side. You couldn't believe this was really happening. It made your head spin, made your limbs tingly at the thought alone how wrong this was.

Wasting no time, he tugged down his boxers, slowly teasing you as he slid the tip along your wet folds. You knew he was doing it just to spite you, and you were insistent on not giving him the satisfaction.

Biting your lip, you shivered as he toyed with you- a cat playing with its dinner.

“Oh so no back talk now? Good.” he growled, sliding it in to the hilt, making you slap your hands over your mouth with a means to silence the moans that threatened to escape.

Though there was no point, Matt heard every little breath and whimper you protruded, cock hard and heavy in his hands as he stoked it like some pervert.

Peter stuffed you to the brim, brushing your g-spot as he tossed his head back in pleasure.

“F-fuck-” you whimpered, almost unable to speak with how sudden the stretch was. It sent fire coursing through your veins, an adrenaline rush bringing you back to when you were in his arms on the rooftop.

“Fuck is right, Jesus Christ you feel so good. So fuckin tight.” he moaned, slowly sliding out of you, feeling your juices coat the base of his cock as he thrust into you hard enough to send your body jolting before he steadied you.

A new body had entered the room, his presence searing and as hot as embers. Little moans escaped your mouth as you stared at Matt, mouth agape, eyes wide as Peter hammered into you.

“In my bed? Really?” he smirked, and you followed his happy trail down to where his large, veiny hand palmed himself as he heard your heartbeat skip a beat.

“Well someone’s happy to see me. Hmm kitty?”

You moaned, hiccuping on your spit and drool as Peter’s thrusts became more erratic. By the way he was handling you, you knew he didn’t care how quickly you came.

He was using you as a toy, a means to get off. That turned you on even more.

“You’ll get your turn with her after Matty. We talked about this.” he mused, watching your breasts bounce from his harsh manhandling.

“Oh, I know. It’s only fair, isn't it kitty?”

“Y-yeah.” you choked out, Matt’s fingers reaching out to wipe the drool that had dribbled from your lips, swirling his tongue around the coated digit and releasing it with a pop.

“She’s already going dumb. Like a bitch in heat.” Peter smiled, him and Matt holding you steady as your body instinctively attempted to wiggle away from the intense waves of overstimulation, his moans ringing out throughout the room as he came in you with a grunt.

“She just needs to be bred.” Matt smiled, tugging off his boxers and your eyes nearly rolled at the sight.

This was addicting. The way they were making you feel, the way they spoke to you as if you were just a toy for their pleasure. But that's what you liked. Which made it so you knew it would be even harder to avoid this scenario again. It was like a drug.

His hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze on his as Peter slid out of you, cum oozing out all over your puffy, swollen cunt as you whined from the abrupt emptiness.

“Shhh. You’re fine.”

Your body was limp as Matt took over, flipping you on your stomach, knees bent with your ass in the air. Kisses trailed down your spine, thin tanktop slung somewhere in the room.

You didn’t know. You didn't care.

All you cared about was the way he handled you, so gentle compared to Peter. But you knew he’d get rough soon.

“S’too much-” you mumbled sleepy against the sheets, feeling spent.

“She's spent. Fuckin whore is cockdrunk.” Peter smirked, shrugging on a t-shirt as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

It felt dirtier with him watching in a way, knowing his eyes would linger on you in your most vulnerable state.

“But she had so much backtalk with us these past few weeks. What happened to that now angel?” Matt asked mockingly as he slid back in you, stuffing Peter's cum back into your abused hole again.

“Mhm-” you moaned, fisting the sheets as he entered you. He was more patient than Peter, slowly filling you instead of slamming to the hilt- but the stretch was just as delicious.

“M’so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” you mindlessly babbled- for what you didn't know. You just wanted to be good, to make them happy, and to please them. If that meant shattering your ego, then so be it.

“Silly girl.” Matt provoked, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he started to use you as he saw fit. You sunk your head deeper into the pillows, tears starting to stream down your cheeks from the sensitivity.

“M’gonna cum-” you hiccupped cautiously, seeing as Matt’s pace was not stopping for anything, or anyone.

“Yeah? Go ahead baby. I’ll let you, since Parker was being so cruel.”

“She was being a tease. She had to learn a lesson.” Peter mused, teeth digging into his lower lip as he watched where you and Matt connected, knowing his cum was being shoved further into you.

“But she’s such a sweet girl. Deep down, you just wanna please us, don’t you baby? Your little demeanor doesn't fool us.”

You felt your brain go fuzzy, his voice sounding distant as you came around his cock with a high pitched whine.

“Atta girl kitty.” Peter called, creaming Matt’s cock as he stilled, filling you up just the same. His grunts were like music to your ears, following you as you came down from the little cloud you were perched on.

“So good baby. Just stay put, yeah?” Matt murmured, and you didn’t even have the strength to nod as he slowly inched his way out of you, both of their cum now slowly spilling out of you as your legs twitched and quivered.

You couldn't move even if you wanted to. Your body felt like jello, and you felt your lower half slowly slide down onto the bed as you whimpered.

“Hurts s’bad.” you groaned, Peter's hand finding its way to stroke your cheek bringing you some form of comfort as you heard Matt start to run the tap, warm water spewing out onto a clean washcloth.

“I know kitty. But you did so good for us. It’s okay, just go back to sleep yeah?”

You nodded, eyes starting to droop as you clung to consciousness.

“I fucked her better you know.” Peter called, making Matt scoff as he returned with the damp fabric in hand.

“Yeah right. Older men just do it better Parker.” he shrugged, and you almost wanted to deride them. They were bickering like children and if you were in the position to bicker back- you would.

The feeling of the cloth against you made you jolt, and Peter reached out to steady you, rubbing small soothing circles on your back as Matt cleaned you.

It was strange and unfamiliar, the kindness and soothing physical contact the men were showing you. You bathed in it, scared it would all slip away like sand when the after-orgasm haze wore off.

“I’m sure Murdock. But who got to have her first?”

“Because she was sleeping right next to you! In my bed, may I add.”

You rolled your eyes, their endless arguing lingering over to the kitchen as you clung to the warm blankets that smelt of them.

It was going to be a long day indeed.

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[jinwoosungs]

{ 124 }

joy.

peter parker x fem.reader

10 stages of love

notes: unedited; post no way home; no one remembers that peter parker is spidey; both the reader and peter are in their second year of university.

{ joy is the coldest lover i know | only because she never comes }

1. first sight

lab had kept you on campus for far longer than usual, and it was nearing midnight when you completed your research with your professor, dr. kingsley.

he kindly asks if you would like for him to walk you home, but you declined his offer, saying that it was best for him to head back home to his wife, that you would be just fine by yourself. after all, you had no reason to be afraid, since you went home alone almost every night.

despite how new york city was known to be a dangerous place, you considered yourself quite lucky to have never faced any problems or issues during your walk back to your apartment.

perhaps it's thanks to that vigilante... what was his name again? wait, it was spider-man.

as you crossed the darkened streets of the city, you allow your mind to wander, thinking back to all those videos you saw plastered all over the internet. lately, there's been sighting of a young man swinging around new york, dressed in a skin-tight suit that bore the motif of a spider.

whenever you could see him clearly from the video's blurry screen, you realize that his form was quite lean and lithe, and you figured that he was a hero that was just starting out. during your free time, you find yourself browsing through youtube and tiktok, just to see if anyone had caught any further sightings of spider-man.

the sound of some rowdy laughter makes you stop in your tracks, and you saw a group of guys standing on the sidewalk, blocking your usual path home. you purposely took a step back, not wanting to draw their attention as you turned around to search for an alternative way home.

with your hair whipping in the cold wind, a sudden whistle causes the hairs to stand from the back of your neck. "whoa, hey babygirl, you lost or somethin'?"

ignoring their catcalls, you quicken your pace-

only to bolt out into a run upon hearing their footsteps chasing after you.

their laughter was heard intensifying, taking absolute pleasure in your panic and fear. the weight of your bag that carried your school belongings was weighing you down, and you half considered tossing it at them to make a clear getaway-

but when you found yourself suddenly trapped, with all three men surrounding you, there was a feeling of despair felt in the pit of your stomach.

"p-please, just let me go, i'll give you all the money that i have."

"come on, don't be so scared and shy. we don't want your money, we just wanna have some fun with you."

you brace yourself, ready to scream for dear life when a rich chuckle was heard coming from just a few feet away from you.

"didn't your mothers ever told you assholes how to treat a lady right?"

your throat felt dry when your would-be attackers stopped gaining up on you, facing whoever spoke in that cocky tone as you saw spider-man standing before you.

it was undeniable that it was him, with the suit and all. his mask was all that was seen as he tilts his head to look at you. the three goons talk amongst themselves, not believing that this was the real spider-man as the quickly gained up on him.

"come on, there's no way this guy's the real deal, it's just some poser lookin' to get laid by 'saving' her."

you gasp, taking a step back once punches were thrown, and spidey dodged every single one of them. he manages to grab one of their arms and twist it back, kicking him away as another one tried to tackle him from the front.

being distracted by the two thugs, spidey was unaware of the third one, coming at him with a blade shining in his hands.

"spider-man, watch out!"

your warning came a second too late as the man manages to slash at spider-man's left arm. you hear him let out a hiss of pain before kicking the knife away. with your mind racing, you look onwards to see spidey managing to detain all three of the guys miraculously, even with his injured arm.

with your heart felt pounding within the confines of your chest, you look at spider-man, seeing him continuing to grip at his injured arm all while meeting your gaze from beneath his mask.

"are you okay?" spidey's voice was gentle, and you mentally cursed, jinxing yourself for ever believing that you could spend all your days remaining safe while in the dangerous city of new york.

2. introduction

"you're hurt." you ignored how shaky your voice came out, coming closer to spidey as you gingerly touched at his injured arm.

he replies to your statement with a strained laugh, "it's alright, i've experienced a pain much worse than this." the way his voice cracked near the end sent a sudden sharp pain within your chest, but you quickly ignored the feeling as you coaxed him to follow you home.

"wait, it's okay, i don't need any help...!"

"i'm not letting you say no, spidey. i have to help you or else... i won't ever forgive myself if anything bad happens to you. what if your arm gets infected and you get sick?"

your words manage to silence the young vigilante, making you break out into a tiny smile. "just... let me do this for you as a thank you, for saving me."

you see spidey give you a gentle nod, and you continue to lead him back to your apartment complex. the walk was relatively peaceful and silent now, and thanks to how late it was, not a soul was even awake enough to witness you taking spidey into your apartment.

you gesture at him to wait on your couch as you head to the bathroom and search for some neosporin ointment, cotton, and a roll of bandages. it wasn't much, but you hoped it would be enough to help out spidey and his pain.

returning back to him, you kneel on the ground and ask him to take his arm out of his suit. spidey remains silent, simply giving you a nod before freeing his arm. seeing the fresh cut on the side of his bicep, you apply the ointment on the cotton before gently dabbing at the wound. a light hiss escapes from spidey, and you softly apologize for hurting him.

"the cut isn't too deep, but it'll take some time to heal." once the ointment was placed over the wound did you finally wrap the bandage around it, making sure it was completely covered before sitting back with a laugh.

"perfect. i'm no doctor or paramedic, but i'm sure that you'll be healed in no time, spidey."

you hear him let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward as he reaches out to you with his uninjured hand. "if you don't mind me asking, what's your... what's your name?"

you blink up at him, finding yourself leaning into his touch when you tell him your name. spidey repeats those syllables, making your heart flutter even more at the sound.

a few moments pass, with neither of you saying a word. as if awakening from a trance, spider-man backs away from you, adjusting his suit once more when he places his injured arm back inside of it.

he coughs, standing back to his full height as he walks over to your fire escape. "uhm, thanks for helping me. i-i gotta go, so-"

"wait...!" you call out to him, your voice sounding hopeful as you prayed that he would tell you his true name.

"what's your name...if you don't mind me asking?"

you wait with bated breath, seeing spider-man still hanging from your open window. and even though you couldn't see him, somehow, you knew that he was smiling from beneath the mask.

"you can call me peter."

with that final phrase, spider-man left your apartment, and you knew that you would never be the same after such a fated meeting.

3. interaction

you were distracted, and you knew that you were.

but you couldn't help it.

you could not stop thinking about him-

about spider-man / peter.

despite your troubled thoughts, you did your best to remain completely and utterly normal throughout the entirety of your classes. yet none of your professors caught on to your less-than-optimal state. it wasn't until you went to do research with dr. kingsley that your inability to focus was made to be achingly obvious.

dr. kingsley calls out your name with concern, "are you alright? there's something going on with you, since you spent the last hour reviewing data we had already completed weeks ago."

upon realizing that your professor was right, you felt your blood turn ice cold. looking back at the desktop's screen, you chew at your bottom lip, upset that you had wasted so much time. "i'm sorry, dr. kingsley, l-let me pull up the right file and-"

"no no, i insist that you go home now." his voice was gentle when he takes a hold of your arm and forces you to stand up. "classes are getting tougher now that midterms are right around the corner, and i realize that it may have been selfish of me to require you to do all this work. tell you what, you may come back and do research with me after your midterms are complete. are we clear?"

"yes sir." you grab all of your belongings together, shooting a grateful expression at him. "thank you for your understanding, and i promise, i'll be back soon!"

dr. kingsley merely gives you a wave, wishing you luck on your midterms before going back to his lab. with a sigh, you head out of the building, craving for something warm and sweet to cheer you up. as you walked across campus, you felt the hairs standing at the back of your neck-

you look behind you to see a boy around your age standing several feet away from you. his features were indiscernible, but you figured it was just another student.

but just in case...

without glancing back, you dart away from the concrete path and into the grass, making a shortcut towards your university's café.

but when you heard footsteps still following you, you had a hunch that it was the same boy with brown hair. with a click of your tongue, you run towards one of the campus buildings, keeping yourself pressed against the wall in hopes of hiding yourself from him.

why does the world feel like messing with me all the time? first it was those three goons, and now this totally random guy was chasing after you.

when you caught sight of his brown hair was when you made your move, tackling him from the side as he landed to the ground with a grunt.

anger was felt sizzling through your veins as you glared down at the guy, only to feel it simmer down. the boy that fell to the ground looked... soft, achingly soft. he had matching, coffee brown eyes and full lips that were painted in a frown, still in pain. he struggles to get up, yet when you looked towards his left arm, you saw something that made your blood freeze up even further.

it was a bandage wrapped around his left bicep, letting you know just who this guy was.

"peter?"

he lets out a nervous laugh, standing back to his full height while brushing back his hair. "y-yeah. here and in the flesh... i didn't think we went to the same university."

4. attraction

your mind was spinning, unable to comprehend or even believe that spider-man was actually here. you couldn't believe that he was revealing yourself to you like this.

"come with me."

you quickly grab on to peter's arm, leading him towards the café while trying to hold back the heat that was threatening to dye your cheeks. for starters, you weren't expecting spider-man to be so cute, with his doe eyes and full lips parted in a half grin-

he was totally the type you would go for.

but one thing was bothering you-

why was he so willing to reveal himself as the spider-man to you? wasn't the whole point of being a vigilante to keep your superhero identity a secret?

so just why did peter basically out himself to you?

with the café in sight, you enter with peter in tow, making a beeline towards the further table in the back. letting go of his arm, you take a seat across from peter at the table, with you looking around to make sure no one would hear you or listen in.

"is it really you, spidey?" you ask peter in hushed tones, with him answering you with a nod.

you look back to his arm, "does it still hurt?"

peter shrugs while smiling at you, "it's nothing a little ibuprofen can't fix. i'm fine."

relief was felt coursing through you, "that's great!" you tell him before clearing your throat, wishing to ask him this specific question, "listen, i just wanted to reassure you that your secret is safe with me, b-but i was just wondering, isn't it better to keep your identity hidden from anyone? w-why did you basically confirm that you and spider-man were the same person?"

peter gives you a deprecating smile, "you're a smart girl, much smarter than you let on..." he thrums his fingers against the table, as if searching for the right words to say.

after a few moments of silence, peter speaks once more. "i don't know, i guess i was just... tired to keeping this a secret. i didn't want anyone else i cared about get hurt from my dishonesty so... so i came clean to you right from the start."

he closes his eyes before leaning forward, placing his hand over yours. peter opens his eyes once more as a deep pain was seen settled within his gaze.

"i already lost everyone that once meant the world to me, and i guess i just wanted something to change, that's all."

peter gives you yet another smile, but this one was much softer, much kinder as he kept his gaze on you. with you sitting with peter, you felt as though you were the only two people in the world, allowing the strange warmth to take over as a new emotion began to blossom deep within your chest.

5. date

you were currently finishing up your essay when a series of knocks were heard coming from your front door. taking out your headphones, you stopped playing the music from your phone and went to answer the door.

but what you weren't expecting was to see peter parker himself standing in front of you with a bouquet of daisies in his hand. you take a step back, feeling the familiar warmth gracing your cheeks as you called out to him.

"p-peter, what's this?"

ever since your first meeting, you and peter had started becoming closer as friends. of course, you couldn't deny that you had one of the biggest crushes on him, but there was no way in hell you were admitting that to him.

sure, you had some study dates here and there, but this was the first time you saw peter standing outside of your apartment with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. and he was dressed kind of nicely, too, ditching that plain t-shirt for a sweater that fit him to perfection with a dark pair of jeans, completing his overall look with a pair of converses.

"hey, i-i was hoping you'd like to... go on a date with me...?" his words came out a bit slow, and you could practically see the anxiety shining within his eyes. he was afraid of rejection, but little did he know that you would never deny this chance to get closer to him.

"like, a date date? a real date?"

that's when peter flashes you a genuine smile, "yeah, a real date."

you look behind you, seeing your essay still displayed on your computer screen as you quickly ignored it, setting it aside to complete at a later date.

because there was no way you were going to say no to going on an actual date with peter parker.

6. holding hands

peter ends up taking you to a movie with a dinner afterwards. the date was completely casual, and you found yourself having the time of your life.

the sky had long darkened as stars littered across the expanse of the universe. your heart felt peaceful while you walked with peter.

"so... the city is not in need of any saving?"

your question earns a chuckle from peter. "nope, not tonight. i think the police can handle all the petty crime seen around the city for once."

you laugh with him, playfully running your hips against him as peter gave you a feign expression of pain. he rejoins you in your laughter, but this time, taking your hand.

this wasn't exactly the first time you had held hands together, but the emotion remained the same. the touch was so soft and benign, void of any urgency the moment peter interlocks his fingers together with yours. he smiles down at you, with you doing the same as you decided to walk closer to him.

keeping you by his side, peter takes your hand to press his lips against your knuckles, filling you with a sudden joy you weren't sure you had felt in a long time.

all you knew was that you never wished for this feeling, or this night, to ever end.

7. first kiss

you and peter spent the next couple of hours just walking around the city, talking about your lives and how you grew up.

you had parents who loved you, but desired to be a bit more independent, hence why you attended a university a bit further away from home.

peter didn't have anyone that was close to him anymore, telling you that his aunt had passed away a couple of years ago, that his death still stung him to this day.

you knew that this was just another part of peter that he was afraid of showing; the one who truly had lost everything within a blink of an eye. after he admits to how lonely he was to you, the silence returned, but only because the pain and empathy you felt for him was so raw that you didn't truly know what to say.

so you spent the next couple of minutes walking back home in silence, with peter still holding hands with you. with your lips pursed, you gently gave peter's hand a squeeze, catching his attention as he meets your gaze.

he gives you another tiny smile, squeezing your hand back in reply.

time goes by in a blur, and you found yourself standing in front of your apartment. peter remains silent, but you could see how shiny his eyes had become, alerting you to how he was having a difficult time holding back his emotions.

not saying a word, you take a hold of his face, framing it with your two hands. he looks at you, allowing a single tear to fall from his eyes before leaning in to softly kiss him.

he gasps, feeling him let out a slight hiccup before kissing you back. you allowed your lips to slot perfectly against his, tasting the saltiness of his tears when you deepened the kiss.

after a few seconds, you pull away from the kiss, gently caressing at peter's skin when you ask, "do you wish to spend the night here, with me?"

peter remains silent, merely wrapping his arms around you as he hugged your form even tighter to him, never daring to let you go as you invited him into the comfort of your apartment.

8. relationship

your relationship with peter was something that was still growing, yet already there was some rockiness felt along the way.

for starters, peter had gone back to his vigilante duties, often leaving you on read each time you would send him a text to check on him. but regardless of how his silence and distance hurt you, you knew it was only because peter was busy saving people.

but that didn't make it any easier.

each night, you found yourself aching for his presence, with all of your texts piling up with each day. you knew peter could see each and every one of them, but had yet to make an effort to even call or text you back.

truth be told, you were hurt. couldn't peter spare you even just a few minutes of his time? can't he call you so you could talk; so you could hear the sound of his voice? and why, whenever you search for him on campus, was he always nowhere to be found?

why did he feel so far away now, when things haven't even begun?

as the days morph into weeks, you decided to burn the sadness that was felt in the pit of your heart. you turned that sadness into anger, stopping all of your contact with peter as you went on with your life.

if he wants to give up on our relationship, then fine. it's better now when we're barely a few months in than suffer in the longterm.

thanks to your spite, you end up blocking his number, cutting off all contact with him. you refused to allow the guilt to fester within the pit of your stomach and tried to move on.

it continued on like this for a few more days, with you feeling the tiniest bit better without having to stress about peter and what he was doing. even if you were still hurting, you wouldn't force yourself to go through such unnecessary pain ever again.

and just when you were so confident that you could do this; could leave peter at a blink of an eye-

it all came crashing back down on you.

when you came home, you expected your apartment to be empty-

not to see peter parker himself settled on your couch with the utmost look of defeat on his face. he was still dressed as spider-man, and you were left flabbergasted, unable to react or respond as you looked from him to the sight of your open window, the one that lead out to your fire escape.

"get out, right now, just what the fuck are you even doing here?" you spat out with as much venom as you could muster, only to wince when peter's head fell.

"i'm sorry, you have every right to be mad at me, b-but, i can't do it. i can't let you go."

peter sounded like he was going to cry again, and the sound of his pain was enough to push you forward.

"peter..."

"i know that my life is a fucking mess, that everyone is probably better off without me. i realized that i was being selfish when i tried pursuing a relationship with you."

"b-but, i was so happy being with you that i forgot all about that. all i wanted was to fall deeper for you, but my stupid thoughts prevented me from making you happy. i'm just... so scared all the time."

feeling your own tears welling up within your eyes, you come closer to him and join him on the couch, wrapping your arms around him as you allowed your lips to brush against his unruly locks of hair.

"it's okay... it's okay. i get it, i do... all you need to do is just... trust me, peter." peter then clings to you, hiding his face within the curve of your neck while letting out a sigh of your name.

"it's just... you won't ever forget about me, right?"

"never ever."

you seal your promise to him with a sweet kiss, knowing now that you could never leave this boy with a heart of gold behind at all.

9. love

you and peter both lay back in bed, with you resting your head against his chest. you simply spent the entire day basking in each other's presence. as you listened to the gentle beating of his heart, you reach out to grab a hold of his hand, linking his fingertips together with yours before giving it a squeeze.

peter let's out a soft chuckle, taking a hold of your hand to press a lingering kiss at the back of it.

after you and peter finally communicated about your mutual feelings, you came to a mutual understanding. with your relationship growing stronger, you knew that you could never truly leave peter, that this boy who lost everything deserved to have a happy ending for once in his life.

as if reading your thoughts, peter takes a hold of your chin and leans closer to you, giving you a kiss that made your mind turn blank. you end up relishing the warm that he exuded, kissing him back with as much fervor to show him how you truly felt.

he pulls away first, staring deeply into your eyes while tracing at your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

"i've never felt so happy before... i can proudly say that this is the first time i have felt so much joy in my life-

"and it's all thanks to you, i love you." peter completes his statement by pressing yet another searing kiss against your lips, the sensation of it all enough to make your heart burst with happiness in response.

"oh peter parker, i love you, too."

as you and peter continued to lay in bed together, you knew that sharing this type of life with him would not be an easy one-

but you loved him enough to try, knowing that it was all going to be worth it in the end.

10. commitment

peter held your hand, leading you to the graveyard with a solemn expression on his face. knowing that this was an important day for him, you remain silent, just keeping your hand interlocked with his as you prayed that this would be enough to ease his pain.

you follow him throughout the cemetery, only stopping when he stands in front of a gravestone. he was silent, giving you a moment to read what was engraved:

here lies may parker...

"hey may, it's been a while." peter's voice breaks, and he sharply inhales before continuing, still giving your hand a tight squeeze. "i just wanted to tell you that you don't have to worry about me anymore..."

"i know how i told you about ned and michelle forgetting all about me, and for the longest time, i was stuck in such a deep darkness, one that i wasn't even sure i could even get out of."

"but... i ended up escaping that darkness, and it's all thanks to her." peter looks over at you with true love shining within his eyes. "i met her due to certain circumstances, and i was so happy i was able to protect you that night."

you could feel your tears forming, but no words would come out, instead, you mouthed the word i love you to him, basking in his sweet smile.

"i just wanted to tell you that you don't have to worry anymore, may. that i found someone who truly is my soulmate, who makes me happier than anyone in this world."

peter looks away from you briefly to stare at the bright morning sun, "so if you're up there, please know that i am happy now."

no words were spoken, but you swore you felt the sun warming your body as a gentle wind goes through your hair, the sensation making you let out a soft giggle as the sound catches peter's attention. he looks down at you with his own grin, saying your name when he reaches down to touch at your lips.

and as you were caught in his embrace, you were unaware of how brightly your golden wedding bands shone from beneath the intensity of the sunlight.

a.n. - it's been roughly 2 and a half years since no way home's release, and i was finally able to write a comfort fic for peter parker 🥹 he deserves his happy ending.

i apologize for any errors in this story, but i hope you readers enjoy this anyways.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

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